While there were many great mom confession moments this week, including taking my youngest back after Christmas break Monday only to find out that preschool actually resumes today (note to self- read emails), I'm going to focus on one particularly splendid moment because it is just that good.
During Christmas break the Nesdahls were able to share a week together. It was a needed time of blessing, affording the adults opportunity to sit in the same room and see/discuss our new reality for the first time since Gary's diagnosis and the little cousins time to play. They LOVE to be together and it's gift to say we adults do too. Your words of love shared with us as a family after posting about Gary's cancer certainly added to our seeing the face of Emmanuel, God with us, during Christmas celebration.
The Nesdahls are an active family. When we're together a full day doesn't go by without some kind of family fun that everyone participates in. We go places. We watch movies. We do talent shows. We play games. Something is done to make new deposits in the memory bank every single day.
For New Year's Eve this year my mother-in-law made reservations for the family to go bowling at one of the local bowling alleys. I was super excited and, in true form, started smack talking a few days in advance.
However, all my mad skillz speak imploded when I FELL IN THE LANE after my very first turn.
Not having put enough muscle into her roll, Ava was up in the kids lane and her ball stopped a short two feet beyond the foul line. I had NO IDEA how slippery a bowling lane was. Yes, it looks shiny, but so are some wood floors and I'm not falling all over the place on those. So, I made a mental call that given the busyness of the bowling alley it would be better for me to slowly retrieve Ava's ball than interrupt the already frazzled looking employee.
Two feet, people. Remember, twwwwwwoooooo feet.
I tip toed my thoughtful self out into the lane and before I could even make sense of what was happening, my body was airborne. My feet flew out in front of me. My arms flopped in the air as though I believed I had pixie dust to make me fly. All the parts were in panic motion before landing HARD on my wrist and rear.
Those floors are like an ice skating rink with butter smeared on them. DO NOT CROSS THE FOUL LINE. At this point, bowling has become a show experience for all who were there. Laughter everywhere, including from myself because....funny. But, also, OUCH. Those floors are VERY UNFORGIVING.
I filed the aerial bowling moment under "parental sacrifice" and quickly told Charlie if our girls ever think they want to work in a bowling alley the answer will be no because the danger risk involved to them in rescuing other kids' stopped balls in simply too high. NOT. EVEN. KIDDING.
Before we left my wrist had started to bruise. When I woke up the next morning everything hurt. Happy New Year's to me. I didn't get out of my PJs all day and moved the heating pad around various parts of my body while singing praise to Motrin's maker. This had perks of its own - namely, doing nothing productive. I watched football all day like a boss.
Now that the soreness is beginning to subside, I'm setting my sights on our next bowling event. I did get a strike in my first frame. Be afraid Nesdahls. Be very afraid. :)
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