This past weekend Son No. 1 had his first speed skating meet of the year. First, I'm going to preface this by saying he didn't sleep well the night before and had to be up at 6:00 to be at the rink for 7:30 a.m. Second, it's a really long day at a speed skating meet. We were there from 7:30 until 5:00 and he skated four races. It's adrenaline rush followed by sitting and waiting.
I'm not making excuses but these were definitely factors in what ensued.
Are you getting the picture that this isn't going to a good place?
I'm going to make this as short as possible. Son No. 1 had four races. In the first race (222 m), he was too nervous to do crossovers. Something he does in practices but he's still not completely comfortable doing. I so get it.
The second race (222 m ), he did crossovers but his left skate went past a puck that marks the track. He knew his foot went in and thought he would be disqualified (as did we). His brother coming in to the change room to announce 'your skate went inside the puck, you're disqualified' certainly didn't help matters. While I admonished Son No. 1 for hitting his brother with the skate guard, Son No. 2 sort of deserved it. That's all I'm saying about that.
This is where it started to go downhill. He was upset that he was disqualified (but he wasn't.) and it threw off his confidence. There were 'almost' tears and he was afraid to do crossovers in the next race.
Enter Race No. 3 (333 m). He didn't do crossovers, his foot crossed the puck again. His time wasn't great. He was afraid of falling.
Let me just say here and now, his dad and I don't shiv a git if he wins a race. It's all about personal best and trying to get better each time. If he's trying, we're happy.
After the third race, he was on the brink of tears and angry feelings were being taken out on those he loves best. He wanted to be on his own so I let him but I finally walked over and talked to him about how he was feeling. And then I launched into a story about how I was afraid to drive after we were in the head on collision and that I didn't want to drive but I forced myself to because the longer I waited the worse it would get and if he didn't do crossovers in the next race it may be one of those things that weighs on his mind and he might feel better if he did crossovers and fell than if he didn't do them at all and it's not about winning the race but beating your personal best and BLAH BLAH BLAH.
BECAUSE WHAT DO I KNOW?
I've clearly entered the realm of BEING THE STUPIDEST PARENT ALIVE. I know this because of the eye rolls and looks of disdain. I ran into another mom who's son has been skating at the same club for about eight years. I told her what happened and she asked if Son No. 1 could sit with her while her son raced. I said yes and asked if she could maybe talk to him about how her son had fallen in races but got back up and kept going.
Off they went and when I looked over to where they were sitting, Son No. 1 was smiling and laughing. It didn't matter what I said to him yesterday, he wasn't going to listen. But he hung on this mom's every word.
It appears that I have entered the phase of the stupidest, most annoying person on the planet (or as my son calls me for short, mom) earlier than expected.
Son No. 1 skated the fourth race and did crossovers. And he fell. Then he got back up again and kept skating. I couldn't have been more proud. He didn't just do crossovers, he crossed a mental barrier and THAT is a difficult thing to do.
Son No. 1 is a good good kid. I mean really GOOD. He's kind, smart, polite and a person I'm extremely proud of. Yesterday was a blip, albeit difficult blip, on the radar screen.
We spent the rest of the night sitting on the couch, talking about what happened throughout the day. What he learned, the parts of the day where he was proud of himself and the parts where he wasn't. We talked about this guy and what kind of trophy we would give him if we could (for the record: Most Perserverence). We talked about how I feel insecure and afraid sometimes when I skate and what I do to get past it. Together we read some of my posts from Speed Skating Mom. There was a lot of me running my fingers through his hair and hand holding.
And then he told me how next time he's just going to try his hardest and not going to get so frustrated if he doesn't do well or makes a mistake.
So maybe I'm not so stupid after all.
At least until tomorrow.
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My inlaws.
My sister-in-law.
My brothers-in-law.
My husband's business partners' parents (did ya even understand that one?).
These are the hard-to-buy-for people in my life. Not because they're difficult by any means but because (a) they already either have everything or (b) I don't know them well enough to buy them that perfect gift.
So each year they end up getting wine or chocolate which essentially screams "I had no idea what to buy you".
But not this year. This year I've got the perfect gift for the hard-to-buy-for person in your life. The Heart & Stroke Lottery Calendar.
I got the brochure in the mail a few weeks ago and had one of those 'aha' moments but only got around to buying the calendars this week. Which means that even though it's the beginning of November, or what I like to call the season of "If you don't start listening right now, I'm calling Santa", I've already got some of my Christmas shopping done already. Plus a bonus calendar for me.
If you have hard-to-buy-for people in your life, maybe it'll be a good fit for you too.
This blog wasn't sponsored in any way. My mother died of a heart attack and this is a cause that's near and dear to my heart.
Plus, the calendars are reasonably priced. So I can feel good about being cheap.
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I spent a large portion of my life in Winnipeg - from the time I was in elementary school until I was an adult. When I was a kid, the cold winters didn't bother me. There's something about being a kid that deflects any feelings of cold. We would spend hours outside building snow forts, making snow angels, skating and sledding. Our cheeks would remain pink for hours after we returned to our warm house.
Then in my teen years, I refused to even acknowledge the cold. Minus 25 celcius? Puh-shaw! I'd walk to school in my high tops, my jacket unzipped, hands stuffed in my pockets, no hat atop my head. There was no way I was going to mess up my feathered hair.
As an adult I got smart and started dressing as warmly as possible. When your exposed skin can freeze in less than a minute, you start to realize that having ears is a good thing.
Did I mention I also have Raynaud's Phenomenon? If I'm out in the cold, my circulation cuts off in my outer digits. Not all at once and not even the same fingers and toes every time. But when it happens my digits turn freakishly white. If you're ever out with me in the winter, I'll show you. It totally freaks my kids out. It's not dangerous, more a pain in the ass...or fingertips and toes as the case may be.
Basically it all boils down to 'I hate the cold'.
Which is funny because in a 'cool' twist of fate I now find myself at an ice cold, ice rink four to six times a week, every week.
There's Speed Skating Son - twice
Speed Skating Mom (that's me) - also twice
Hockey Skating Son - twice
Luckily Hockey Skating Dad manages to take Hockey Skating Son to most of his practices and games leaving me with only four trips to the rink. And the ones where I'm skating aren't all that bad since I'm moving around. I've only come home to random white toes twice.
Irony is a bitch.
And I'd flip her the bird but my circulation cut off while I was at the rink and I have to go run my finger under warm water.
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