Skating Skills Currently on Vacation

So, remember me saying how some skills will be solid for awhile, to the point of you (the parent) thinking, "Oh wow, just a few more weeks of this and he's got it nailed forever!" and you're bursting with pride and anxious to post your kid to YouTube so all the other wannabe parents will be pea-green with envy? And then the next day that skill is gone-o?

Guess what skill is gone? Just guess. You'll die laughing. I would be, were it not my kid. Go on.

Ready?

THE SPIRAL.

Yes. The Spiral is gone. Where once I saw my little boy raise his foot to the level of his hip and hold it, grinning at competition judges like he owned the universe, now I'm lucky to see that free foot go above the level of the skating leg's knee. Spiral? Hardly. THAT is a glorified one foot glide. Even Coach had to concede defeat on Saturday's lesson; after much fussing and fighting she finally gave up, saying, "Well, at least you stayed on the blue line."

I didn't have much luck either on Saturday Night ice, with Stitch just breezing through it and not even bothering to lower his shoulders even a little bit. "What is that?" I kept saying, with Stitch insisting that he was doing spirals, I just wasn't paying attention. Risking the appearance of being THAT MOM, I continued to badger him. No use. No spiral.

Tonight I came home, relieved The Babysitter and asked how Stitch had been. Stitch comes running out and starts doing spirals against the sofa. I frown. "Skating tomorrow?" she asks.

"Yes, and you won't need a coupon," I reply, as Stitch is bemoaning me as the worst taskmaster ever. I tell him to get his unfinished homework and bring it to the table. During dinner he tells me that he is good at spelling because he doesn't practice, and good at math for the same reason. I drill him on some things and he misspells "pencil." We won't go into math.

So yes, skating tomorrow. Despite Stitch's insistence that he is a competent speller, mathematician, reader and skater without needing to practice, I will continue to be Mommie Meaniehead and make him practice these things. Perhaps soon we can coax the Spiral to come back from the Bahamas.

Also, I heard some crazy rumor that Other Kid is in Axel Workshop. I had to leave the ice for laughing, followed closely by genuine concern. I would kill for a verification of this fact, and pay real money for video evidence.

Oh, Mr. Paulsen with your wacky skates... say it isn't so!!

2013

Today I was in Full On Suburban Mom Mode. First stop, groceries. Then, Ice Show practice. Next, lunch and library. Further, Play Date Dropoff. Last stop, Rink again. I set up shop in the lobby with my beads and my computer, where I waited for Stitch and Lucy to arrive, and Coach to tell me what Stitch needed to practice.

Before long, my good friend Lady Cluck and her two daughters arrived, another of Stitch's classmates arrived with a birthday party, Fab Skater's mom sat down with us and we all chatted about the merits of hip flasks. After the first hour, Stitch and Lucy arrived from their playdate, we put skates on them and all five kids were on the ice. Lady Cluck and I stayed in the lobby where we talked and righted the kids as they came off the ice periodically to beg for candy and snacks and soda, and to whine about their non-injuries.

Coach arrived and told me she would talk to me after Public was done. That's fine. Lady Cluck agreed to take the kids to the playground while Coach and I talked, as I had to take Lucy home afterwards. Everything was going fine until Public ended and the kids came barreling out of the rink, all of them needing help with de-skating. Stitch had that look where he appeared to be close to tears. I knew what had happened but I let it go for lack of time. We could talk later. Lady Cluck and I worked as fast as we could, but Coach was faster so I had to pry off Stitch's skates and leave Lucy to her own blade drying. I threw three dollars at them for snacks and went to talk with Coach.

Lucy appeared just as Coach was going into detail about proper extension. "I NEED A NAPKIN!"
"GO TO THE COUNTER." I pointed.

Three seconds later she tossed her dirty napkin and empty candy wrapper at me, left her Zuca by our table and I was mortified. If Coach noticed, she didn't say anything. Stitch has better manners.

Coach talked me through a large and thorough list of Stuff Stitch must do on the ice. Stroking, crossovers, spirals, spinning, waltz jumping, etc. All stuff I tell him to do, but it hasn't been on a List so he's been getting confused. Now that I have something hard and defined, it should be easier.

I went to the playground, Lady Cluck and I ate cookies and watched the kids play, and slowly rounded them up to take them home. Lucy didn't seem to mind the fact I was driving The Beater that day, only commenting on the mess in the back. "It's my dad's car," Stitch explained. I dropped her off, setting her Zuca on the curb for her and wishing her a good evening. She turned on her heel and walked to her door, leaving her Zuca for me.
"Ahem," I said pointedly.
Lucy rolled her eyes and came back for her Zuca.

On the way home, I asked Stitch why he had been so upset.
"Because Coach grabbed me and wasted all my time to play with my friends."
Yup. "You played with your friends on the playground. You play with your friends every day at school. Ice time is precious, and time with Coach is even more precious. If she's giving time to you, that's pure gold. Don't complain about that, ever. Understand?"
"Yes." But it was a mad yes.
"You want to compete? You want medals and trophies?"
"Yes."
"Then you get them by practicing and doing what Coach tells you. You know that. I won't enter you in competitions if I don't think you have a shot at winning."
"But you signed me up for the July Open, right?"
"That paperwork isn't out. And again, I won't enter you if I don't think you'll have a chance at winning."
Silence.

We got home and made dinner. I sat down and prettied up The New List. It's long and kind of intimidating. But doable. Stitch and I went outside and I explained things. "You need to do this every time you get on the ice. I will talk to your guard friends and explain that you have to practice first, so they leave you alone, okay?"
Stitch is looking at it.
"Coach says you need to jump higher on Waltz jumps. Also you're not flexible enough, and you need to really work on Shoot the Duck."
"I hate shoot the duck."
"You can't do sit spins without shoot the duck. Right?"
"Yeah."
"So let's come out here at night and do some stretching on days you don't skate. Okay?"

Stitch set his lip. He took a Twizzler and pretended to smoke, studying The New List. Then he jumped rope, did spiral stretches, shoot the duck, waltz jumps, then asked me what was next.
"I don't know. I think we're done."
"No, that was only four things. There has to be more."
"I don't think so."
"I'm not giving up, " he says.
"On what?"
"On these twizzlers, or on this list."
"Well, that's good. But we can do more tomorrow."
"I want that gold medal."
"What gold medal?"
"The one with my name on it."
"In which competition? Do you even know?" I'm fearing the answer.
"The one in 2013," he says like I'm stupid.
"Oh. Well, that's a solid goal then. Do I have permission to be pushy on you to get it?"
"You already pushed me over on Shoot the Duck."
It's true, I did. "Yeah. So can I?"
"You don't have a license."
"I'll make one. 2013, huh?"
"Yup."
"Well, okay."

2013 it is.

"They're Freestyle Skates! For Freestyle!"

Last night Stitch and I headed out for Public. He skated, I did beadwork and chatted with Rink Pal. You know me, always talking. I coerced Stitch into some practicing, and while I seem to have reached a marginal impasse with the newer moves, it remains hard to have him actually do something useful. (More on this later.)

All the sudden, Rink Pal comes strolling in and says, "Other Kid got new skates."

"Finally," I threw up my hands. This poor kid has been in Moonboots since I first met him. My first thought is, how awesomely awful is this gonna be?

Sure enough, here comes Other Kid, all straight legs and arms and new skates. "I HAVE NEW SKATES," he proclaims.
"I see that, what kind are they?"
"They are Freestyle skates! Because I'm in Freestyle!"
"Yes, but what brand are they?" I'm asking because I may be in the market for new skates soon.
"They're Freestyle!" and he goes on the ice.

His mom comes in. "He has new skates!" she says.
"Yes, he showed me. He should take it easy while he adjusts to them."
"They are Freestyle Skates. His coach told us that if he doesn't have better skates, he won't pass."
Well, I can think of a million other reasons why he won't pass, and his skates have little to do with any of them. "Hopefully these will work out better."
"The toepick is bigger."
"Yes, that makes sense."
"They are Freestyle skates."
"Jackson Freestyle?"
"Oh, I don't know. They are for Freestyle skating."

Let's just say it one last time;

Okay, now that we have repeatedly established that Other Kid is in The Level That Shall Not Be Named, I settle in to watch. The results are predictably disastrous. If other kid was unsteady on his Moonboots, imagine the new physics involved with a longer, wider blade and a serious change in foot support. (When Stitch got his Reidells there was a period of about a week before he adjusted to the different blade and pick. Lots of tripping.)

Other Kid should have spent his time just stroking and swizzling around, forward and back. Instead, he was center ice, trying all his jumps and spins. Words cannot describe the sight. Rink Pal and I watched at the door, as I wanted to bring Stitch in soon to take him home. We stroked our chins and talked quietly about the sight before us. He revealed some ugly Rink Rumors about coaches and kids being pulled from them, about kids being pushed too fast, and kids who could jump but couldn't do basics. I expressed my concern of Stitch being subjected to a similar fate, but his love of competing would be my insurance policy. "He can't compete without testing, so he's got to test out."
"It's a good plan, but he's a pretty good skater."
"Let's keep it that way."

Other Kid came off the ice and sat next to me for awhile. "I can do a Toe Loop!"
"I know, you told me last week."
Then he tells me what a Toe Loop is. Again. I bit my lip and patiently listened, wondering just what was going on with this kid.

This morning we reported to the Rink for Privates, which was on the big ice thanks to the closing of the Synchro season. Stitch and Gordon skated around, I beaded some more and listened to Mr V badger Fab Skater's mom about how the onset of puberty in girls affects their skating.
"Things we won't have to worry about, eh?" I try to be funny.
Mr V looks me up and down. "But you have to worry about it."
"I did the puberty thing years ago, and I didn't skate. I was referring to the boys."
"Oh. Right," my joke falls flat.

Privates finish up, so Stitch and I sit up in the rafters, eat the breakfast I brought and watch the Flow and Moves or whatever class again. We watch Other Kid nail the wall again while making plans for camping trips this summer. I tell Stitch he's going to have his own backpack this year because I'm done carrying his things. This gets him excited and we talk about identification of poisonous snakes and spiders for awhile.

"I don't think Other Kid will pass," says Stitch, looking down as Other Kid flops around.
"I dunno."
"Hooray, you swizzled, you pass," Stitch says cynically.

Now, I try not to express my frustration around Stitch. I don't badmouth other Coaches or staff. I don't complain about the leaky rink, the broken seats, the holes in the ice, the dirty bathrooms, or the strange lack of skating ability in some high level kids. But I know he sees it. This moment of just how much he sees kind of stunned me.

"It'll be okay," I assure him, and put his skates back on him.

Earlier that day, Ms V has asked me how to get the patches that Stitch wears so proudly. I tell her she has to ask Mysteria, and she can do that anytime.
"Is she hard?" Ms V asks.
"Yes, she's very strict about the standards. She barely passed Stitch on Beta."
"Oh. I don't think Gordon should do the tests then. He won't pass."
"You have to test before you can compete."
"We tried to do that before his first competition, but it didn't work out. We couldn't stay for the test, so he was never tested."
I think; Gordon's first ISI comp was at Alpha! So, he's never been tested, period! This is dangerous information, isn't it? "I plan on having Stitch tested for Gamma and Delta in midsummer, before the July Open." (This way the timing looks more accurate, after the Pre-freestyle session ends.)
Ms V suddenly looks sad. "I think we'll wait."
I suddenly feel a glimmer of vindication, something that might evolve into Victory someday soon.

Coach pressed for advancement, and that's fine. Stitch is doing pretty good in Pre-Free. Tomorrow Coach and I are going to sit down and work out a Practice Routine for Stitch, and I can let her know about Stitch's plans for two events in July. And how I want to be sure he's good for Mysteria's stringent tests before then. Again, Stitch wants ALL THE PATCHES. So, let's help him get them. We'll have a Freestyle 1 Patch soon enough and that trumps Freestyle Skates any day.