Ice skating

Right outside our garage, the driveway is a sheet of ice. It’s pretty impressive. Our front step is covered with ice, too, and I feel a little bit guilty about sending the dog out that way, and then giggling when she slips around.

When we got home from the shop tonight, I told the boys they ought to stick their boots on and go “skating” on the driveway. They thought it sounded like a GREAT idea, and headed right back out after depositing their backpacks. They talked about wishing they had ice skates, and one of them even asked if they could put their rollerblades on.

Um.  No.

I’m not entirely sure why I suggested it, since sliding around on the ice doesn’t actually sound like fun to me.  It’s something their Dad would do.  Does do.  I’m such a klutz, though, and have had bad luck with slipping and falling and throwing my back completely out of whack.  I don’t think I ever really learned the art of falling.

It was only about 5 minutes before they returned. Joe had this look of disgust on his face, so of course I had to ask what was wrong.

“Ice can be very dangerous,” he replied as he glowered at me.

There didn’t appear to be any broken bones, and he seemed to shake it off OK.

I try to be a good Mom and censor myself around the boys, choosing not to share things that might make them fearful or give them nightmares.  In this particular instance, I decided not to tell him about the time my sister broke her arm. She hadn’t even made it on to the ice to go skating when she slipped and fell. At least it wasn’t my fault that time. I freely admit that I helped break her other arm. (On a plastic kiddy pool of all things.)

Right before bed, Joe came in and wanted to know what caused hiccups. We talked about it for a minute (and Googled it to learn more) while he hiccuped.  One thing we learned is that most of the time, no matter what “remedy” you try,  your hiccups will go away if you ignore them.  He was concentrating so much on what I was reading to him that sure enough, his hiccups stopped.

I chose not to tell him that when I was a kid and got hiccups I would always worry that I’d be like the guy that had hiccups for 68 years, and htat mine would never stop, and that I’d have to hiccup forever.

Who am I kidding??  I STILL worry about that.

Even though I didn’t tell him that particular crazy, I wonder what other things I’ve done or said that will drive him into therapy someday.

I’m afraid he’ll have plenty to choose from.