Preparing the kids for dating.... not that they'll do that for a very, very long time

Yesterday evening was perfect for playing tennis, so after dinner we all rode up to the neighborhood courts to give it a try. (I didn't have a bike to ride -- Pete and I share one -- so I rode Strider's scooter.... and Pete nicely took a picture of me...It turns out that scootering is actually a bit of a work-out! At least judging from what my quads were telling me afterwards)

It's been a very long time since Pete and I have played tennis -- the last time was when we lived in Virginia, and the time before that was probably before we had kids -- so we were rather under-prepared last night. We only had 1 tennis ball (borrowed from a neighbor), one racquetball, and 4 rackets- - two of which were racquetball rackets. So the evening was good practice in family sharing. The best part of tennis, at least for our current stage of life, is that it is in a self-contained location; the balls couldn't get lost or go very far, and neither could the children.Pete and I got to play for a few brief, lovely moments as we tried to pass it off as a learning time for the rest of them ("Watch how you're supposed to play, kids. See? Now watch as he hits it back. Oh, one point for Daddy! Oh, now Daddy's winning, 2-0!" We didn't feel like tackling the official scoring system on this our first lesson... we just stuck to the basics of getting it over the net.)

The kids played with us... adding the additional fun challenge of trying to hit it where they were not. Our little volleying session came to a halt, though, when I started to get a little too into it (imagine that) and almost beaned Rayna with a backhand slam.

So then we just let the kids play with us (for real now). Rayna, sweet wonderful girl that she is, got the most joy out of chasing the ball whenever it went out. We're bringing her with us everytime we play. Whenever she got it, though, she would hold it up and say, "Ok guys! Here's the game: " as if there was a plan she had for us, but then she'd give up and hit it back to us.... or somewhere anyway... with her little racket.

Colsen just kept motoring around the outside of the courts, trying to find an escape route, and any little piece of disgusting trash he could find. Then of course he wanted to "try" with my racket... I wish I had gotten a picture of him running around with a racket as big as him.

Strider was the most excited about the actual sport of tennis... at least at the beginning. He couldn't figure out which hand he wanted to hit with -- he's proving to be a weird mix of ambidextrousness in sports.... like his mother and grandfather -- so he kept ending up hitting 2-handed backhands -- no forehands --, as if he were playing baseball. But then his interest rapidly waned.... He went from saying, "Tennis is really complicated" to "All this is is chasing a ball!" (said disgustedly, as he ran after yet another missed one), and then to, "I hate tennis!"

I started channeling my mom, saying things like "Tennis is a hard sport, sweetie. It takes practice. Someday, though, you'll be glad you learned it." And I suddenly recalled how I sounded exactly the same at his age.... and for many years afterwards. My parents graciously paid for us kids to take tennis lessons a couple weeks each summer through the parks and rec department.... something I complained about over and over. My mom kept trying to convince me of the value of it though, saying, "Someday you'll be glad you know how to play -- it's a great social thing to do! You may even go on dates someday and play tennis."

And.... drumroll.... she was RIGHT. As usual. I am very glad I finally got some grip (ha ha) on the whole tennis thing because it did become one of my favorite activities to do with my high school friends... and later with college friends, and young adult friends. And it was good for dating, too. :)

So we'll keep trying to teach these kids tennis, because someday, way way WAY in the future, their future spouses might be glad they know how to play.