Which means there were wobbly adults and children alike.
And I was one of them.
Remember when I joined the derby girls? Same general idea. Just add ice.
And a three year old clinging to my hand.
As wobbly as Chad and I are, we realized it was a Very Bad Idea to hold onto Joseph's hands. So he grabbed a large bucket to help with his balance and within the hour was doing fantastic - even if he was drenched from sliding across the ice on his knees.
Elizabeth grabbed my hand and put her other hand on the hay bale wall.
Yep, hay bale wall because we're country like that.
I tried to explain to her the ice closest to the hay wasn't the easiest to skate on, but she refused to let go. Her little legs went one way and then the other. After the third agonizingly slow trip around the rink, we sat down to take a break, our legs sticking out onto the ice. I picked her up, set her arms length away and spent the next few minutes pushing her away and pulling her back. By the time we started again, she didn't realize I'd pulled her a few feet from the wall until we were half way around.
We inched our way along, Elizabeth putting one hand out like she was on a balance beam while maintaining her grip on my hand. I scooted along slow enough to find my balance when she fell of jerked my arm.
We spent an hour and a half on the ice, only leaving when they were getting ready for the next group to come in. Elizabeth cried as we left, wanting to stay longer. Joseph asked when we could go back.
Sometimes I wish we lived someplace where we could do things like this on a more regular basis. It's wonderful when we find something we all enjoy that's also active.
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