Stirring myself

As I've said many a time, the real success of Eric's and my parenting is that we've managed to raised our kids with zero expectations. As I recently told Abby, there are parents out there who actually do stuff with their kids: Plan activities, play games, give treats, and go on adventures... and then there's her father and me. Look, having kids is exhausting. I've given up sleep, and personal desires, and the last bit of milk that would have been ever so tasty in my coffee... and now you want me to pay extra attention to them?

What the hell, man?

Actually, Eric recently read this generation of kids is the most pampered since the Ming Dynasty. Well, everyone but my kids, I guess. And even they aren't doing so bad.

So all of that is to say that somehow I let Johanna rope me into taking her to the school's Friday Skate Night yesterday. I'm not sure who thought getting a huge group of kids together in the gym and putting them on wheels while pumping in loud pop music was a good idea, but the school has been doing it for years and apparently no one has ever questioned it.

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Abby was never interested and she never went ever in all her years there, or maybe she was interested and I just didn't notice because we had a baby in the house and everything between 2004-2010 is kind of a blur.

But Johanna is all about movement. And the kid is fearless. Actually it would be kind of awesome if she had a little caution to temper the unabashed enthusiasm, but you can't have everything.

I took her once last year and it was horrifying. Well, she had no idea what she was doing, so I had to run around with her on my arm to help her get the feel of it before some of her more skating-pro friends turned up and took over the job themselves. Squished toes is what I'm saying, added to the usual headache that groups of children normally produce.

This was the first skate night of the season, so you know that means we're in for a long haul. Anyway, though, the kid had a ball. They've been skating on Mondays at her after-school care program, except half the time she doesn't wear socks and can't participate (her feet get hot, she hates socks, who cares if it's twenty degrees outside?), but she kept mostly on her feet and even entered a "race" with her fellow second grade girls and took third. Or fourth. She wasn't sure, but she was thrilled.

Also: I got to sing along to "Call Me Maybe," which is pretty catchy.

Anyway, I guess it wasn't so bad. I mean, it was cold in the gym, and the music was terrible, and Johanna kept crashing into my legs every time she came around to where I was sitting, but aside from THAT, seeing all the laughing, happy people? Especially my kid? That was cool.