My boys are now proficient with a device known as a "Rip-Stik." It's like a skateboard only harder. And it isn't for me. They scoot up and down the driveway and around the inside of the house (we've got a great floor plan for skateboards and nerf dart guns).
I do not scoot anywhere. I fall -- either flat on my face or flat on my tuckuss. I believe I even said, "I can't do this." But the boys, who also fell flat, kept at it and have some skillz now. It occured to me that my issue wasn't that I couldn't do it, it was that I didn't want to do it. Too much pain and not enough payoff. There are other things I'd rather do with my time.
I was greeted this morning by a very sweet little girl who interupted herself when she saw me to yell, "Uncle Jon! Uncle Jon!" I expect that later today we'll get to dance. To me, that sounds much more fun than a trip to the emergency room.
There's a day of possibilities ahead of us. I'm sure we won't get to do everything we want to, but we'll do something, and for now that could be anything.