The day after we had our wine party we bowled in fundraiser benefiting Hemophilia. What inspired us to schedule in that fashion? Oh yeah...that was the Lord's doing. The prior week a snow storm postponed the charity bowling event to the following week. It probably occurred to Leslie that we would have to attend after the tasting, but it didn't occur to me.
I posted to facebook:
And it did. But a couple Tylenols and I was good as new. Leslie, however? Well, I won't speak for Leslie in this matter. But she didn't eat food that day. Mostly.
We went to the bowling alley. I kept calling it Treasure Island, but I think the actual name was Paradise Island. Lily, who thought I was referencing the movie, "Chipwrecked" kept asking me where Zoe was.
"She's on the island, Lil." (times a thousand)
We had fun. Hangovers notwithstanding, we had a good time and raised money for bleeding disorders. But I was tired. Emma probably had the most fun. They had a black light on so that colors looked glowy and vibrant and bumpers automagically popped up when it was her turn to bowl. The alley was newer and clean. And they served wings and pizza and fries.
Lily was not in love with the Alley. The music was too loud. There were too many people. She was visibly anxious, holding on to things to keep her balance and find her place in the noise and bustle, anchoring herself physically. Papa took her outside to wander, but she lost interest and came back inside.
I felt really bad about it. I mean, that much...muchness...it was too much for her. But it's the debate we always have with ourselves as parents. Do we push her limits to experience new things or do we exclude her from activities with the rest of the family knowing she'll struggle. And it felt wrong not to include her.
Leslie and I initially flanked her so she wouldn't wander off. She would hold our hands, or the ball rack. I offered her a fry.
"NO!" she yelled at me, pushing my hand away, then grabbing the fry and eating it. She was just very discombobulated. Eventually she got accustomed to ambience. She settled down, even sitting with us as we bowled. I offered her a chance to roll the ball, but she didn't take me up on it, content to watch us instead, asking for her Aunt or Emma, someone...ANYONE who was not Leslie or me. And once she started to settle down we did too. She constantly asked to go to the bathroom, which was quiet and away from the noise, and I think she recognizes that whenever she asks we will automatically take her. That was our experience when she was afraid at The Nutcracker.
The bowling itself was not spectacular. I bowl maybe once every couple years, but I was particularly bad on Sunday. For the first 5 frames I had at least one gutterball or complete miss each time. I'm no pro, but that's pretty bad by my standards. I was looking at maybe rolling a 70 or something by the time the 6th and 7th frames came up and I got two strikes in a row, followed by a 9. I sort of breathed a sigh of relief. Emma was going to beat me up until that point. After that I was much more myself, still sucktacular, but not THAT sucktacular.
At one point they must have had 80's hour because every music video (they had flat panel monitors in the lanes that doubled as TV screens when the lanes weren't in use) was from the 80s, and we found ourselves getting Rick-rolled at the bowling alley. I danced the dance.
By midway through the second round, I noticed my thumb was developing a blister. Midway through the third, my hand and ass ached. Who knew bowling was so physically demanding?
Today I'm sore. From bowling. Cause I'm fit.
My sister and her son ended up taking home a trophy for biggest team, which was cool, because we were on it so we felt like winners too. And we also ended up with our own trophy...