Some childhood things are best left behind in your childhood years

It was a day of hot cocoa, fresh mountain snow cones and a chance to break in the new sleds that Santa left for our kids on Christmas.

After watching our rosy-cheeked sweetie pies slide down the icy hill a few times, I decided it was time to show everyone how to really make those foam and plastic sleds go. I borrowed my daughter’s sled, took a run for it and screamed – vocally, yes, speed-wise, not so much – down the hill.

I was surprised that I didn’t feel the joy and freedom I once felt on ski slopes and toboggan runs; instead, I felt every rock, ice chunk and bump bruising my body. I groaned as I rolled off the sled at the bottom of the hill, wondering if my right wrist was sprained, or if it was just sore from hanging on for dear life.

To top it off, my husband was standing on the sidelines nearly doubled over in laughter, with a camera phone in his hand. I can only hope that it was set on still photos, and not video recording.

And that’s when I realized that sledding isn’t nearly as fun as I had remembered, probably because of my age, size and physical condition (or lack thereof). It didn’t help knowing that a crash at the rate of speed I was going would have scarred my face – and, more importantly, my ego.

I played it cool, gave my kids a round of high fives and then hobbled – I mean, took my time – up the hill. About 10 minutes later, my husband decided to one-up me. Yes, he went faster and farther down the hill, but he also broke one of the sleds and in doing so made one of our kids cry. Why didn’t Santa leave something rated for more than 150 pounds, anyway?

Well, we had a good laugh, and talked about some of the things that we used to love to do, that we don’t – or shouldn’t – attempt anymore. They include:

 • Sleeping outside on the ground: One of my favorite childhood memories is the night my mom slept outside in sleeping bags with my sister and me, as we watched a meteor shower light up South Sound’s sky. I’m too afraid of bugs and wild animals to ever try this with my kids, and my husband won’t sleep on the ground because of his back.

Which brings me to a question: When our son’s Cub Scout Pack goes camping next spring, can we bring an RV? We promise not to use the microwave or television.

 • Going on the dragon boat ride at the fair: With the goal of getting the most from our Dizzy Passes, my daughter and I had a great time riding the Scrambler, the Enterprise and a bunch of other spinning and climbing rides at the Puyallup Fair. I thought the first half of the dragon boat ride was lame; I thought the second half was pure torture. So did most of the adults who climbed off and talked about how sick they were to their stomachs. Most of the kids were begging to stand in line and go on it again.

 • Rollerskating with newbies: My dad always rented skates, and made skating backwards look super easy at all of the roller skating parties. As a result, I learned to skate pretty well myself.

During a recent kid birthday party, I must admit that I totally rocked the hokey pokey, the chicken dance and the Cha Cha Slide on skates. I was casually skating and visiting with some other grownups, when all of a sudden one of my kids grabbed my arm and pulled me down to the ground.

My ears rung, the lights went blurry and I was pretty sure I broke something, possibly even a hip. I made it over to the side bench, tried not to vomit and rested for about 10 minutes before slowly skating off the floor and hoping that nobody saw that. I’ve been to two skating parties since, and haven’t gotten the nerve to try it again. Maybe I’ll wait until my kids have more skills of their own.

 • Staying up all hours of the night playing video games: OK, that one is on my husband’s list. It probably should be on mine, too, but I’m currently trying to help my son beat Super Mario Bros. III on the Wii, and we’re stuck in World 7.

 • Keeping up with my kids: Last August, I chaperoned a trip to Great Wolf Lodge with my daughter’s Girl Scout troop.

After about two hours of playing in the wave pool and on the mid-sized slides, we decided to attempt the big slides. My daughter and her friends ran up the steps every time, and I tried to follow close behind.

We were attempting our third big slide, and when I jumped into the two-person raft I immediately got a charley horse in my thigh.

The teenage lifeguard was sweet, and said, “It’s OK, that happens all the time” and I knew she was silently adding the words “to old people like you.”

My daughter headed down with another friend, and waited for what she described was a “really, really long time” until I was able to make it down the slide without excruciating pain.

I headed straight to the hot tub and enjoyed some rest and relaxation.

Lisa Pemberton covers education for The Olympian. She also is one busy mama with three young children. Reach her at 360-754-5433 or lpemberton@theolympian.com.