Part of Perfect Moment Mondays…
When I started this blog two years ago, I put pressure on myself to always have something insightful and witty to say on a regular basis. Or to at least fake it. It became work rather than an escape to write. So, now I write only when I have something to share that I know I can write about quickly and effortlessly. I write less often as well, because after spending my entire day at my computer working, I need to get away from it at night.
It’s also very easy to get caught up in documenting a moment, rather than living it. And, sometimes if everything isn’t documented perfectly in pictures, I choose not to share it. Kinda’ dumb, huh? After all, writing is about sharing an experience through words that create a picture in the reader’s mind. If I’ve done my job, then no picture is necessary.
So, I hope you enjoy this pictureless post about a recent perfect moment…
She’s always been independent and stubborn; fearless and determined. After I finished lacing up her skates, she was ready to jump into the rink, pink elephant under one arm, Minnie Mouse under the other. She wore her favorite pink, Hello Kitty t-shirt, flared pink corduroy pants and a white-flower and burgundy print skirt over it. I cautioned her to wait for me, as I laced up my own skates, and she began inching away from me, and closer to the rink entrance. I caught up with her and helped her step out into traffic, reaching for her hand as she wobbled back and forth, trying to find her balance.Why I thought she’d take my hand now when she’s resisted doing so even in parking lots since she was two, I don’t know.
“NO!” she shouted. “I don’t need help! I’ll do it by myself!” and began scooting her skates forward, her arms sawing the air in harmony with her little legs. I tried again to hold her hand, but she wasn’t having it. She told me to go by myself.
“Go!” she said, “Skate!” After it was clear all I was accomplishing was to create a giant roadblock for the other skaters, I decided to let her be. Skating off, I continually glanced back at her and at the other moms and dads holding the hands of their kids twice Reagan’s age.
I lapped her just a few feet from where she started as she flashed me a giant smile. She didn’t care that she was the littlest skater moving around the rink slower than she could walk around it. Or, that she was the only skater with plushy friends along for the ride. She was in her element: cheesy roller-rink music, her favorite outfit, her best friends, her own set of wheels and an audience.
“Go, Reagan! Go, Reagan!” I chanted as I passed, making her confident smile grow from ear-to-ear. Her only cries for help came on the occasional spill. But, as soon as she was up on her feet, she instantly shooed me away again. Like the Queen’s jockey helping her on her horse, my job was done.
I admit it was a bit lonely skating by myself and not at all what I pictured our little mother-daughter outing would be like, but I also marveled at my four-year-old’s self-sufficiency; her desire to be her own person in dress and actions. And my pride outweighed my own expectations.
After a couple hours of skating and some really awful pizza in our tummies, my little Dorothy Hamill on wheels was ready to go home. Her skates set at the ready in her closet for her next original performance.