The end of this class session, and Coach telling me that Saturday is out now, just hammers home that this is the end of the Saturday Routine as I've known it for about the past year. From here on out, the Skating Schedule will be catch-as-catch can, barring divine grace by Lidwina herself. Worse, even that only lasts until Mid-July, and after that I can't promise he'll be on a rink at all until September. During those six weeks, I'll be lucky if I see him myself.
What happened? Life happened.
Dad works at a theatre, so his schedule is always a bit wonky, but we've had the benefit of some regularity because of where he works. This summer, the show that has scheduled itself into his space suddenly cancelled. This means Dad is effectively out of work for the summer.
Now don't panic. This isn't the end of the world. Dad has the fortune of being able to get freelance work, but the bad news is that we won't know where or when or for how long or how much until twenty four hours before it happens. Which means we will have twenty four hours to scramble daycare if we need it, or Skating Lessons if we can. We're keeping Stitch here through Mid-July so he can compete at Home Rink.
After that Competition, we're forced to send Stitch off to his Grandparent's so Dad can have more hours and more freedom to get that freelance work. We'll be fine, but it sucks beyond words. Not just for the skating, but for Us in general. I've been waking up in the middle of the night, feeling near tears, facing the fact that I won't have my son at all or my husband around much for six weeks. My floor is giving out from under me.
We're going to try to bring Stitch home as much as we can for that six weeks, but with gas prices going up as high as they are, it may not be feasible. We may only get two weekends, tops. Grandparents tell me that they will take him to the rinks in their neighborhoods, and I'll tell them and Stitch the neccessity of keeping up practice, but without the regular instruction it's just Life Support.
Bottom line, I don't know what's going to happen. And I can't tell anyone at the Rink because you know the old adage. I mentioned it to Ms V and she seemed thrilled because Gordon could "catch up." I need a hug and a reassurance that it's going to be okay, not words of happiness at our misfortune, thanks.
Here is the Old Adage I was referring to.