When I was younger I liked bowling. It was a good group date type thing to do before alone dates were allowed in my parent’s house. Then it was really fun, something intimate about removing ones shoes with a boy. Then I grew up and had kids. I went bowling once with my kids and my friends and their children. My son was 2.5 years old and my daughter was 6 mts. I stupidly thought she’d sleep in her stroller and the boy would bowl and I’d sip ice coffee, tell him how good he was doing and marvel at the bliss it is to be a mother. What actually happened that day was the girls was hysterical with the bowling thundering sounds, my 2 year old could not even pick up or roll a bowling ball nor could he kick it which was also a source of frustration to him and worse of all? The alley did not even sell iced coffee. I left that day thinking I just could not handle juggling this and I cried on the drive home. It seemed all my friends were doing fine with their children why did I need to leave? That was the last time I went bowling until this week. This go round with an almost 6 year old and an almost 4 year old went much better. Both children were able to pick up and roll their own ball down the lane, even if it was at a painfully slow pace. With the help of gutter pads they actually knocked down pins. They even had shoes that fit each of my children!
I did go again with a group of girls. This time it went about the same I imagine but from my prospective it was very different. A girl had to leave in tears, another needed her husband to come along and a few were struggling in their own right. There was another mom there who has a four year old and we chatted and that was nice too. After offers of help was extended and the chicken dance had played I just sat back sipped my iced coffee and thought about how far my children and I have come and tried not to worry about what new hurdles lay ahead for us.