Mompetition: What it is and how to avoid it.

(Sorry for the long absence, my day job is suddenly very busy, which is a great sign for our economy. If the arts are picking up, certainly other industries are as well! But it means less posting, apparently. We will return to Sewing Week after this brief interruption!)

From the day our babies are born, us Mothers are entered into the Mompetition Games. How big was your baby? Eight pounds? Puh-lease. Little Elsie was eight and half pounds! You don't know what a big baby is!

As they grow, it goes on. How much are they eating? How long are you nursing? Does your child eat sushi or just chicken nuggets? What growth percentile are they in? Do they know their letters and colors? Oh, pfft. Mine knew the alphabet at six months. And you are teaching Baby Signs, right? We've moved on to pre-algebra, the first grade math program is just boring her. Oh, you're just doing General Education? We're doing the Special Curriculum, we just think it's best for Junior.

Yeah. You know what I'm talking about.

It's annoying as all hell, because no matter what your child does or did or could ever hope to do is certain to be bested by some Goody-Two-Shoes Mom who is defining herself through her child and their acheivements. Even if those acheivements are little more than having the biggest fecal production of the day in the pediatrician's office, this mom takes the spotlight by proxy.

It was Mompetition that drove me from the playgroups early on in my parenting career. I simply could not tolerate the constant inference that my son was somehow inferior because he could not "sign" for water at three months, and that I was an inferior parent for not doing math flashcards at three weeks. After getting the stinkeye for admitting that I had trouble nursing in the early days, I just decided these women weren't worth my time. (Double mastitis? Clearly I had done something wrong, was their implication.)

So for years I operated safely outside the Mompetitor games. I just collected Stitch from Preschool, nodded politely at the other mothers and made a hasty exit. I didn't bother answering questions about diet, study habits or bowel movements.

Then Stitch began Figure Skating, and I inadvertently entered the Mompetitor Olympics.

He's stuck at Freestyle Three? Oh... *insert subtle look*

And somehow your child's inability to master a complex skill overnight becomes a reflection on you. Honestly, sometimes I think I'd rather say that Stitch has a drinking problem than say he's still working through the Change Foot Spin, just because I can't stand that Judgey Look. (I believe my detractors have used the terms "struggling with," which I find to be disheartingly mean. I struggle with separating grocery carts. I am working through forward crossovers, a new skill.)

Conversely, if you have a child who can skate, who really does master complex skills overnight, you're in for a different world of hurt. Yesterday I received a gift of chocolate from a fellow skating mom, thanking me for "being so nice."

All I do is talk to her while the kids have lessons. We talk food, our various craft projects, pets, school, homework, politics, and occasionally, skating. But really, she gets a lot of cold shoulder at that rink, and I think it has a lot to do with how her little girl owns that ice. She's blowing away Freestyle Four at the moment, much to the consternation of a Mompetitor who does nothing but give Other Mom the silent treatment.

As a mom, it's all too easy to fall into the trap of defining yourself through your child. When your child does great things, of course you are proud and want to share that success. It's certainly cool to be the "Mother of the Awesome Kid." But when you fall into that pit, you run the risk of exposing yourself to severe ego damage when your child falters, fails, or even worse, is outperformed by another child. And if you don't think that's going to happen, think again.

What makes it worse is the weird imperative that your child must Figure Skate as a "Serious" Competitor or not at all. ("Your child just does ISI competitions? Pfft, we switched out of that long ago.")

Once you and your child's performance are linked, you simply cannot face those Other Moms with children you percieve as better than yours, nor can you spend enough time around those moms with children who are behind yours in their skillset. Your friendships at the rink are suddenly terribly limited, based on fragile terms, and very often under false pretenses. Is that any way to lead a Social Life?

Other Mom often hung out in the lobby, just doing her own thing, and yes, she did seem a little aloof. But one day I introduced myself and struck up a conversation with her. As it turns out, she's in the lobby because her daughter wants her there and it's too cold in the rink anyway. It had nothing to do with her personality, which is warm, funny and inviting.

So, how do you avoid Mompetition? Just don't buy it.

Whenever someone starts talking smack about another Mom, smile and nod, and gently steer the conversation to something else. If they insist, find somewhere else to be. (The Booth. The Cafe. The Broom Closet. Anywhere.) If you see a mom hanging out alone, say Hi. If you meet a new family at the rink, be nice.

And when you meet a Mom who is making dubious choices in pursuit of their child's skating, simply mind your own backyard, stay out of their way, and try to be a positive influence.

We're just here to skate. No one at the rink is curing cancer or writing a Middle Eastern Peace Treaty. It's just figure skating. Do unto others as you would have them not talk about you when you go to the bathroom.

Our Jump Rope is SubPar

At this point, Stitch is pretty well outfitted as a skater. He's got the pants, the jacket, the Zuca, the guards, the soakers, a billion gloves, thin socks that he always loses, and some trophies.

His jump rope, however, is apparently not appropriate.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to locate a simple, reasonably priced jump rope for a child? Not a "yoga" jump rope or a weighted jump rope for adults, but a simple child's toy.

I wanted this.

I do not need this.

I searched Target for what seemed like hours, before giving up and going to World Market for some wine. We actually found one there, a playful business with little children painted on the handles. Sure, why not.

On arrival at Practice Ice one day, I handed Stitch his jump rope and told him to go at it. Stitch starts jumping and Other Kid is on him. "Why do you have a jump rope? You don't need a jump rope until Freestyle five!"
Stitch ignores him, so Other Kid hits me.
"WHY DOES HE HAVE A JUMP ROPE? HE DOESN'T NEED ONE YET!"

"Our Coach says differently, that's all. So he has a jump rope. If your Coach says you don't need one yet, that's fine, too."

Other Kid is flummoxed and starts asking Stitch if he can try it. The two of them start goofing off, and some other Cute Girl Skater comes over with her jump rope to join them. Her Jump Rope is more professional, red plastic and no kids painted on the handles. She notes Stitch's jump rope, and says he needs a better one.

Stitch, eight year old Stitch, thinks this is insane. "It's a jump rope! You jump it! Does it matter?"

Cute Girl Skater insists that it does.

I'm overhearing all this and laughing.

No matter what you've got, someone else has something better. As the song goes, it's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got.

Strange Days

The rink has felt awkward lately. There's just a general awkward, strange, silent vibe going through the building. I think people know what happened, or have some clue, but no one wants to acknowledge it. Those that have details aren't talking and those who are in the dark probably want to stay there. Honestly, as someone who seems more in tune to emotional undercurrents, I've been dreading going to the rink for the past week.



But I've always lived by the "fake it till you make it" mantra. None of it affected us directly so what really do I have to complain about? So things are awkward, so what? Keep going.

I talked about things with my Neutral Third Party (who knows no one at the rink) over lunch on Tuesday and I felt better. The waiter brought us the House Salsa and some on the house beverages to wash the hot-as-lava vegetable mix down, and all was right again. (Carrots should never be that hot.)

Newly resolved, Stitch and I went to Practice Ice last night.

And we had fun. I talked with my rink friends about the upcoming show, Stitch had his lesson (lots of sit spins and jumps), we laughed a lot and wasted a fair amount of time, but I felt it was okay in light of how weird the past week had been. My rink friends are determined that I be in the show. I assured them that it would be a cold day in hell before that happened, then I remembered where I was.

Stitch and I headed home, and as much as I have high hopes for evenings after Practice Ice, both of us are too shot to do much but drink hot chocolate and watch TV. So that's what we did; watching Esteban, Zia and Tau search for the Mysterious Cities of Gold on Netflix.

This morning I found two wet little boy socks in my jacket pocket, and an errant glove. Now that I know his number, I'll put Stitch's rehearsal schedule on the family calendar, and this weekend we may be cleaning the Costume Room. Or, at least we need to before work starts on Winter Show.

Literature, movies, TV shows, they all have us spoiled by their endings. The Ends are always neat, wrapped up nicely and clearly defined. But in real life, that doesn't happen. It doesn't happen that way because nothing ever really ends. It just keeps going, for better, for worse, like it or not, one foot in front of the other.

My Rink Friend expressed some desire to see me step up more at the Rink. I said I'd do whatever was needed of me. Again, for all my crabbing on this blog, I wouldn't be doing this if I truly hated it. I really do like spandex and glitter, wet blades, bad spills, high egos and drama. If it weren't for the crazy in my life, I'd be pretty bored. And let me tell you, Rink Life comes pretty darn close to working the exotic animal show when it comes to the ridiculous factor.

I still miss the exotic animal show. Lion pee, possum puke and all.

Stop talking about Axels!

Last night in the stands, I was looking for one good toe loop. The boys were doing great, but MsV kept asking, "Is that an Axel? Are they learning Axels?"
"No, looks like a toe loop."
"How can you tell?"
"It's got a toe assist. Watch."
"When do they learn Axels?"
"Freestyle five. Not for awhile. All the other jumps come first."
"Oh. Why is that?"
"Axel has a forward entry, so it's a rotation and a half. It's a half rotation harder."
"What about double Axel?"
"Two and a half. Then they can start triples. But that's not now." Or possibly ever.
"But olympic boys do quadruple jumps, right?"
"Yes, some olympic men have quads."
"Is that a triple Axel?"
"No. Triple Axel is three and a half rotations."
"Do girls do quadruple jumps?"
"Some can, but not many."
"But they all do triple jumps."
"Yes. Anyone who is serious does triple jumps."

At that moment one of the Primo Skaters flew by into a double or triple jump. "He's so good," said MsV wistfully.
"His jumps aren't high enough," my mood was soured. "Watch. He's not getting high enough in the air, so it borks his landings and screws up his combos."

Sure enough, Primo Skater jumped into a wonky double, landed badly and fell on the second jump which he singled.

"He's got a good spin," she said.
"His sit spin isn't low enough."

She then started talking about how she ran into Coach at opening night at the Opera, then about waiting lists for private schools and how it would be so hard for a private school child to transition to a public school and I was done. "I mean, it's such a different environment," she must have realized what she was saying, and I was so tempted to say, "Oh yes, in with the riffraff like us. It's awful. We're all dealing drugs and none of the kids can read so we just have cage matches in the lunchroom." I wanted nothing more than a beer. A cheap beer.

"Another student goes to private school and does five lessons a week," remarked MsV. "She's so very good."
"I can't afford that." And amazingly, Stitch is still good.

And at that, the conversation ended.

I don't know why all that depressed me so much.

Rink Pal came to my rescue, giving Stitch a skating Snoopy pin for his jacket. I may not have much, but I do have a lot of friends.

The Tiny Tightrope Walkers

Stitch often gets lazy about holding his arms out. He's better about it in lessons, but when he's on his own, it's a lost cause.

Last night I pulled him off the ice for a moment. I held his arms out. "Stitch, imagine for a moment that there is a string, tied to your wrists," I tied an imaginary string. "And on that string are six tiny tightrope walkers." I motioned where the tightrope walkers would be. "You have to keep your string taught, so the tightrope walkers don't fall down."

Stitch found this hilarious. "What if they fall? Do they die?"
"They jump right back up, but try to keep them up there. So try the dance step again, and remember your tiny tightrope walkers."

So he went out, holding his imaginary string taught, and he did the dance step a few times. Then he slid belly first onto the ice, smooshing his tightrope walkers. Then he ate them. Then he blew them off their string. Then he put them into a cone. We had a lot of fun with our hapless tiny tightrope walkers. But every time his arms would drop, all I had to do was hold my fingers where the tightrope walkers would be, and his arms would go up.

I brought him off the ice again. "Here's another thing. When you jump or spin, you have to hold your tightrope walkers tight so they don't fly off. So don't forget to protect them."
"But that would be funny if they flew off!"
"This is true."
Again, it worked.

I think we went through about eighty tiny tightrope walkers before the night was out, but he had held his arms out and there had been no fighting or stomping or arguing. Just laughing.

And now when I'm in the stands, I don't have to do the bird. I can do a subtle hand motion, which will make him laugh again and get my point across.

How to Gossip; Avoiding Hurt Feelings

In spite of all the crabbing I do here, I really do like people. I talk to just about everyone and I like to make friends. But of course, sometimes you have friends that aren't friends with your other friends, or you talk to clueless people who derive opinions about others from third parties and not on their own. This can sometimes lead to awkward situations.

Some what do you do when friend A runs up and tells you something untrue and/or horrible about your friend B that she heard from friend C? Well, I know that Friend A is relatively clueless, and Friend B and C have their own thing going on that I'm not privy to. Do I think it was wrong of Friend C to diss B to clueless A? Yep, but what's done is done.

In this instance, to avoid drama, politely STFU. Here's why:

Again, A is clueless. Nothing is going to change that, so don't waste time refuting whatever she heard from C. In this case, I stated that I thought differently and offered nothing further. Friend A tried to goad me on, continuing to say awful things, but I restated my position and changed the subject. Friend A tried a few more times, but eventually she gave up and went away.

I'm also not going to go running to B to let her know what was said, because the only thing that can come of that is hurt feelings. I'm not going to march up to C and tell her she's wrong, because she's entitled to her opinions, doing so would only damage our relationship, and someone would get hurt. Further, the conversation between A and C was just that, between A and C. Had C come to me and said B was a psycho, at that point I could have refuted her. But that didn't happen, and I doubt it will, so I'm letting this one go.

When you're as bad a gossiphound as me, it's important to have a neutral third party you can spill things to. Preferably someone with no knowledge at all of anyone you're talking about. So of course I went right to Friend D and told her everything. She asked me why in the world I hang out with such people and bought me another drink.

So, just what happened last week?

Yesterday I spent most of the day in a hot and dirty little room, examining and marveling over old theatre parts, debating why the proscenium arch is starting to drop (it's 100 year old building), and how I can go about repairing and freshening drapes and drops next week. Hope Johnny Weir (the sewing machine) likes muslin, Red Velvet and commando cloth. The 100 Year Gala is in October, and I'm not sure what management's plans are for this event, since management is still in flux. (We're still burying valuable goods in trash before we leave, to hide them from Old Management. He's already sold one of the theatre's original spotlights, so we hid the second in a secret location. The other old spot is probably too big for him to take, she's the Original Big Bertha.)

I came home, took a shower, and went to settle some business at the rink and go skating. It's cool, quiet, and I need to ask what happened to Other Kid. Rink Informant was there, and I waited a good hour before asking the big question. "So, did they get sick or something?"

"No," said Rink Informant. "He said they just canceled it for him."

Let's review that statement. They: "They" must mean his coaches. Why would they do this? For whatever others were saying, they and Other Kid were practicing that program with all the gusto of a normal skating kid. When Other Kid flew into the boards backwards, they treated it like it was normal. When he fell, Coach said, "He bounces," and never seemed to note that he fell a lot more than the other skaters. Did they suddenly see what I, and others, were seeing?

Just Canceled. This is huge. "Just Canceled?" You don't "just cancel" a show! And not at the last minute! That Saturday night, we all left and said, "See you tomorrow!" and they said "See you tomorrow!" So when did they get the call saying not to compete? Sunday morning? How heartbreaking for Other Kid, who (for all his difficulties) really was trying his best. He'd just been crippled by being skipped up so fast. This part makes me sad, which leads me into the next part.

For Him: Dad and I have talked about Other Kid. We don't like the way he talked down to Stitch about being at a higher level. It made Stitch angry and confused, because Stitch is a miles better skater. And please don't accuse me of not liking kids who can't skate, I can't tell you how many little nonskating kids I help out and encourage at the Public Sessions. Beyond my ability to avoid my toepicks like the Sudden Death they are, I can't skate either. But I don't go around mocking those who do trip on their toepicks. I don't give a whit about skating ability, I don't like kids who mistreat other kids on baseless accusations. And others tell me that Other Kid is actually really nice and sweet and funny when he's not talking about skating. I'm sure he is, but when I get him, he's quizzing me about what Stitch is learning, and how he can "already do that, that's for kids" and how he's "learning a Salchow, does Stitch even know what that is yet? I'm learning faster than he is!"

I honestly want to shake him by the shoulders and scream, "It's not a race! For pity's sake, if you'd just slow down, you'd be so much better!"

But I don't. I smile and nod and try and change the subject, and Stitch has started to avoid him. Which is sad, because the Boys really do need to stick together.

So, Other Kid's coaches at some point decided that Other Kid shouldn't compete. If I were Other Kid's mom, I'd be in their face demanding WHY, and why they would allow or encourage my kid to learn a program and sign up for a comp, only to have them say, "yeah, no" at the last second. In fact, I'd be furious, because at that point I would have paid my non-refundable entry fee, hours and hours of ice time and the extra lessons. Not to mention the time I'd spent at the rink. I'd tell them they can deduct that entry fee from their coaching fees for the next however long it takes to pay that off, and absolutely no more rehashes of this event if I stayed with them at all. Just thinking about it makes my hair stand up. Glad it's not me, but it's someone.

At any rate, last night I just stroked around, enjoying the cool and the camaraderie. I counted spins for Awesome Guy, who's getting to ten or eleven revolutions with much more comfort and ease now. I told him he's looking much better on his spins, maybe he should try crossing his feet someday, and I encouraged him to reach both his toes on his stretching. I guess I have to be Skate Mom for someone while Stitch is gone.

The Day Wherein I had to Leave

I haven't been to Practice Ice in about a week. We were supposed to go Monday, but after such a rollercoaster weekend (Surprise Party, then the cat finally died, which I'm sad about but relieved with at the same time) I needed a night off.

So we went tonight. The usual suspects were there, doing the usual things. Nothing seems to change much until it does, I guess. I saw Ms V, and went to say hello wince I hadn't seen her in weeks. She greeted me and said they were just chilling for awhile before heading home. I said we were doing Practice ice. All was fine until she mentioned Gordon's skate. "I think it's broken, I don't know what to do."
"What's wrong with it?"
"The sole part is pulling away from the boot."
Uh..... "That sounds serious. Can I see it?"
"It's in the car. I'll go get it." So she traipses out to the car and Stitch is asking if he can get on the ice and the monitor is saying no, so I'm deflecting him from getting ice cream too soon. (After practice, please.)

Ms V returns and digs out the offending skate. "See?" she pulls back gently, the heel part pulling away from the sole.
I take the skate and turn to the nearest Coach. "Coach Q? Um..." I hand her the carcass of the skate.
Coach Q's eyes get wide. "Oh my god, I've never seen that before!" She looks up at another Coach. "Coach S! Look at this!"
Coach S gives the skate a look. "What brand is that??"
"Reidell," says Ms V. "It's supposed to be good quality, but we got it secondhand..."
"He can't skate in this," says Coach S.
"But we can't get new skates so close to competition," says Ms V.
"Call Coach H," Coach S says. "He's good at skate repair. But it may not be done by the competition."
"I guess Gordon is rough on his skates," Ms V is kinda freaked out.
Yes, he's rough on his skates. But he's rough on his skates because you let him tear around the lobby for a half hour after lessons are done with the skates on. They aren't jogging shoes. That's also why his blades are in such bad shape. But I didn't say anything. What was the point?
I excused myself to help Stitch practice. I was watching him do forward crossovers when Ms V came back in. She looked resigned. "Coach H says he can't skate in them, it's not safe. I don't know what to do."
Me neither, but can I be a fly on the wall when you tell Coach Y about this? "Something will work out, you can get new skates or borrow some." (This is a lesson in equipment maintenance, folks! That didn't happen overnight!)
She talked with me forever, while Gordon was tearing all around, poking at Stitch whenever he came to the ice door. At one point, Stitch fell and Gordon was prancing all around.. "Stitch went boom! Stitch went boom! Stitch went boom!" I swear my eye got a tic.

Ms V was complaining about how the boys will be separated from the girls for this comp, so it will be harder for them to win. This is funny, because she used the exact opposite excuse as to why it would be hard for Gordon to win at the USFS comps. Just as I was longing for a flask of vodka to help me with my Diet Coke, she and Gordon departed.

But wait, there's more!

Other Kid walked up. "What level is Stitch competing at?"
"Freestyle one," I hope.
"I'm at Freestyle two. So that means he's going into Freestyle one."
"No, that means he's going into Freestyle two."
"No, he's going into Freestyle one."
Kid. I'm going to stash your body either under the stands or between the speedskating mats. "Well, he's competing at Freestyle one."
"My coach says that if I do a good job at the July Opening (sic), I can skip Freestyle three and four, so then I can get a solo in winter show."
"Do you think that's a good idea?"
"Oh yes! I can do a solo!"
"Excuse me for a moment." I bolted through the lobby, dying. I had to find a safe place to laugh.

Skip Freestyle three and four? Just like that? I mean, it's one thing to skip Beta maybe... but something else to jump two freestyle levels just because you managed to get through your competition without breaking your butt. Secondly, I don't know what solo this kid has in mind, but it won't be a lead role of any kind! If any of that happens, I'm complaining. Especially since Stitch is being put through the wringer on backwards inside edges and the steady of his spiral. 

Finally, with three wet runs of his program, a full six minutes of backwards inside edges and spirals later, Stitch and I headed out. He bought some candy and a Diet Coke for me, what a sweetheart. He was in a good mood, but I reminded him that he needed to be polite tomorrow for lessons lest he risk losing all his weekend activities. He was okay with this, and we had a minor disagreement as to which run of his program was the best, first or third. I also mentioned that it was probably a little odd to start dancing to someone else's program music. He didn't see a problem with this.

Can someone explain what's going on?

Okay, for more than a year now, I've watched kids skate in class levels that made no sense. I didn't say anything at the rink, I kept my ranting reserved for this space, and I kept going. No skin off my teeth.

Stitch passed Gamma and Delta yesterday. According to Dad, he was close to passing FS1, but his backwards edges were not "on the line" and while his spiral was high, it wasn't steady. I get the feeling we're being messed with or something. Mysteria is giving him a second chance to pass FS1 on Friday. Dad days Coach worked with him on the missing elements, which we all know are there, but for some reason decided to not happen on this particular day.

I was mad at Stitch because Dad reported he was sporting a rather sour attitude the entire time. I can understand why; having three skating tests tossed at you by surprise is upsetting. But the way to deal with it is not to get angry. (And had we done this my way to begin with, it wouldn't have been an issue at all.) The fact that Stitch chose this moment to wear his best "Mouthy Boy" attitude was what upset me more than the test situation. I came home and had a chat with him, threatening him with a grounding if it kept up. This means no friend's birthday party and no selling flowers this weekend. "Just do the test, I don't care about the result. Do the test and do your best, don't be mean about it. It's rude."
"I did my best, mom, but she just didn't care."
"She cares. She just thinks you're capable of better, and so do I." 

Dad is using this moment to call Skating a subjective non-sport. "Coach said she would have passed his spiral, but Mysteria said it wasn't good enough. It's so subjective."

Right, but there's a reason why Coaches can't judge their own kids. I understand the rules, and while it sucks when they don't work in your favor, they stand. Because you know and I know that if Coaches could judge their own kids, chaos would erupt.

Dad tells me that there were somewhere around 25 elements that Stitch had to polish up, remember, and ID on his own to perform for some strange woman we hardly ever see. Mysteria's nice enough, she's just so absent as to be a relative stranger to the kids in her own skating school. Stitch probably sees her as "the woman with the clipboard and patches." And again, had we done this my way, the elements would not have stacked up so high and the test process not as arduous.

**taps head** See, I'm figuring this stuff out. Now I have real ammunition.

After all that, Dad says Coach wants me to cut more music for her. Um, okay, but I'm going to start charging for this stuff. She probably didn't get the memo, so no problem this time. I'll let her know when I see her next. Dad hands me a CD and says, "It's either track 32 or 33, I can't remember."

I play track 32, and I can't get through it without falling off my chair in laughter. It's some ridiculous Techno/Russian/Latin/Can-Can mix. I can't make this stuff up. No. I'm not cutting this because I won't let anyone skate to it. Track 33 is a much better Pop Jazz mix. I cut that. If they come back and say they wanted the other track, I'll have a talk with them about music genres.

I want to know if this was a blanket sweep of competing kids, or was it just a few? Because I can think of a dozen kids right off who would have gotten caught in this dragnet. For one kid in particular, it's a safety issue. No one in good conscience can allow this kid to start doing jumps when he falls on mohawks and runs into the boards on back crossovers out of control, but it's happening. I mean it when I say this, I don't give a rat's ass about him being some kind of threat to Stitch. What I worry about is this kid breaking his neck, and putting a stop to it would be the best thing.

An Ice Skating Party

Last year we did a skating party on the Public Session on the big ice. The kids had fun, but it was tough to round them up amid the crowd, we couldn't do anything special, and we noted that the kids separated themselves into skaters and nonskaters, which made things a little awkward.

This year, we have the small rink to ourselves. Dad and I discussed the lessons from last year, and so I have a plan to make this year more inclusive.

Hospitality: One Parent is in skates, on the ice with the guests. The Other Parent (or Friend to Whom You Owe Beer for the single parents out there) is in the lobby, greeting guests, tying skates, running down safety and ensuring everyone is comfortable. I was Lobby Parent last year, Dad was Skate Parent, so I'm assuming we'll switch roles this year. Bring extra gloves for kids who may need them.

Food:  Kidfood. Pizza and Cake. Always a win. Don't cast pearls before swine, just give them what they want. Non-spillable drinks. Hand Snacks I'm avoiding, as I don't want food on the ice, and I don't want to be Food Police, watching for someone chewing while they skate.

Treats: No gum or hard candy until they're walking out the door. It's too easy for someone to be tempted to waltz onto the rink with a lollipop and suddenly we're doing the Heimlich instead of swizzles. Also, small candies get dropped on the floor, waiting to be picked up by a skate blade and then dragged on the ice. So, while I love candy, there won't be any for the duration of the party.

Favors: Again, nothing until they're walking out the door. At least nothing small and easily dropped or ferreted onto the ice. (Kid Party Favor Rules apply: NO WATER GUNS and NO WHISTLES.) For some On-Ice fun, I'm thinking of handing out ribbon batons to the girls, and I can make a second billowy cape for my other Boy. Who knows, I might get an impromptu Ice Capades. Small goodies can wait until it's time to go. Typically I buy the bag of Pinata Mix and distribute evenly into cheap bags tied with a pretty ribbon. No one's complained and it's half the price of prepackaged favors.

Contingency Plan: It's not a Kid's Party until someone cries, and since we're all courting disaster by skating in the first place, it's double the fun. The Rink has ice packs on hand, but I'll bring my first aid kit all the same. If any parent leaves, and they're welcome to do so, they need to leave me their phone number. I think everyone this year has skating experience to some degree, but last year we kept an eye on the first time skaters, helping them as they needed it.

Games: Since we have skaters and nonskaters in attendance, making sure everyone has fun is a challenge. This year we can actually have organized games. While I don't intend to take up the whole party with them, they are a good way to break the ice with kids who don't know each other very well.

Beanie Baby Relay: Just like a relay race, but instead of batons, the kids have to make it around the rink with a Beanie Baby on their heads. (Tip: for any racing game, outline the course with cones. Kids are smart, they will cut the middle unless it's marked.) Among the Skaters, I know who has terrible posture, so I can make this a fair fight.

Pairs Race: One goes forward, the other backward, and see which pair makes it around first! We can pair a skater and a nonskater for this game, evening out the odds.

Flag Tag: I don't like Tag Games on the ice since kids get carried away and end up checking each other. This isn't safe for the nonskaters, so let's change it up. Each kid gets a belt with a flag on each hip attached by velcro. When those two flags get taken, they're out. I can make Flag Belts pretty easily with scrap material I have now.

After some rounds of games, we will eat pizza, cut cake, and they can skate free until the end of the party.

The idea at any gathering is to keep everyone comfortable, safe, well-fed and feeling welcome. It can be a challenge when dealing with kids who have varying degrees of skill, but I think we can pull it off this year.

Stitch is still super bummed thinking there is no party, and it's so hard to not clue him in. I keep telling him to wait, sometimes Life surprises you. Sure as hell surprised me. His Zuca bag is on hold at the Skate Shop. I know it's dumb but he's going to be so happy.

Stairway to Somewhere

For the past year and a half I and many other parents have all bidden our children, "Do NOT run up and down the stairs!" We usually do this in loud voices and admonish them with tales of newly brain damaged kids who ran and fell down the aforementioned stairs. Every time I see one of those bigger Skaters running up and down the stairs to warm up, I cringe and pray that they don't trip and fall. Even I can't make it down the stairs without careening every so often.

Yesterday, (and this is told through Grandma, I wasn't there) Stitch became one of those kids. Coach apparently had him run the stairs, jump the stairs, jump some of the stairs on one foot, and then do push-ups. He has been directed to do this, and "practice his jumps" every time before he skates. "She says we have to get there early and do this," says Grandma.

Great, I will buy him a bubble wrap suit and a helmet. I hate those friggin' stairs.

"Oh, and Coach is a year younger than me," says Grandma.
"I knew she was older, but she sure as hell carries it well," I said, making dinner. Grandma has some issues, including bad knees and age denial. We joke about it constantly.
"Yes. She told me. Then she told me I had to be in shape, because I had a young grandson." Grandma was not amused by this remark.
I laughed for five minutes solid. When I dried my tears I returned to stirring chicken. "Well, you could walk more."

Grandma told me about the workout, the skating, how she had to traverse the stairs once for a moves ticket which I was unaware of and again for music. I didn't think they were going to do the program, but whatever. "Oh, and Coach yelled at the people in the booth."
"The ice monitors? Why? What were they doing?" Oh god, I miss everything good.
"They didn't see Stitch wave. They were too busy talking."
"Yeah, that's lame."
"Then they didn't see Coach wave."
"Uh oh."
"So she yells, 'WOMEN! STOP TALKING!'"
Again, I collapse in hysterics.
Grandma keeps going. "And then some other lady walks right up to me and demands to know who I'm with."
"Okay."
"I point to Stitch and suddenly she's real nice. She says, 'Oh! He's good! How long has he been skating?' and I tell her about a year and she doesn't believe me. But she seems to know him."
Damn, I'd give money to know who she was talking to. "Well, that was nice of her to say."
"That place is crazy."
"Just a bit."

That was just her first day at the rink, and Stitch's first day of actual conditioning. Apparently they came home and collapsed into word puzzles for the afternoon, exhausted. The two of them may have some really good stories by the end of the month. 
 

Is Coach Scary?

Short answer: No.

Well, at least Coach shouldn't be scary.

Last night at Practice Ice, Coach was with another little boy and occasionally grabbing Stitch for a quick demo. Stitch was doing his warmup routine and his program, but was acting crabby for reasons unknown. Grandma is in town to watch Stitch while Dad catches some work and I'm at the office, so Grandma was sitting with me and we were chatting.

"He's talking back to her," observed Grandma.
"Yeah, I'm working with him about that."
"Kids got some gumption, I don't think I could talk back to her."
"Yeah."

Afterwards, Coach introduced herself, knowing that Grandma will be the one handling Stitch during the day and not me. She said she'd tie his skates and not to worry, very friendly. I told them to have fun without me.

Grandma, on the other hand, felt intimidated. "I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the accent."
"She's really nice."
"I'm sure she is. But she scares me."
"She gives the little kids stickers, she's fine."
"Oh, sure, she's from a war torn country and stickers are a reward? What was her reward for skating well? Eating?"
Well, this just sparked an evening of hilarity that hopefully dissipated some of Grandma's intimidation.

But I know a few parents who find the Coaches a little intimidating. I know I used to. And some Coaches act intimidating. My response was to be friendly. If any Coach wants to roll their eyes at my lack of skating information, I'd be happy to avail them of my vast knowledge of lightbulbs and polyester color media. We all have our specialties, but most people come together with smiles and self-deprecating humor.

What about you, dear readers? Do you or did you ever find your skating coach intimidating? How did you handle the situation?

In Search of Non-Toxic People

I've made a life decision in the past year, and that's to stop allowing Other People's Problems to encroach on my life. So far, it's worked well.

Now, this isn't to say that I don't care about other people's problems. If a friend has a real problem and needs someone to unload on or a little help, that's fine. What this new rule refers to is Other People who don't really want help, and who don't want to change themselves to end their ongoing problems (Anger, Illness, Codependency, any form of Addiction, you know what I mean.) These people I now simply tolerate and move on from. I'm polite, but I'm no longer getting personally involved. 

I'm going to have to add a new Persona to my list of Other People to avoid, and that's Toxic People. People who raise my ire in some form to the point where it distracts me from my goals and my family's goals, and I get confused. At the Rink, this confusion takes the form of Parental Competition. I can't get involved in that.

Yesterday after I was done with my volunteer shift at the school carnival, I found my friend Lady Cluck. "Someone was looking for you!" she says.
"Who?"
"Nutso!"
Well, there's a blast from the past. I haven't seen Nutso since Rink Across Town shut down for renovations. "How is she?"
"She's fine. She wanted to know where you were."
"Stitch is only going to be here for four weeks of this session, so he's not enrolled. Plus he'd be in the earlier timeslot anyway, she wouldn't see us even if he was in it."
"She was asking about you. And Stitch."
Of course she was. And I could feel those old hackles raise when Lady Cluck told me that the eldest daughter was now in Gamma, but taking the Beta course again since the two younger siblings were still in that later timeslot. That's not so bad, back crossovers are important. I started to ask where Shuffles and That Other One were, but I stopped myself. That is not important. None of this is.

I felt my competitive self thinking, "but I could get him in a group class for just a little while, just to show her." Then I remembered that while Stitch isn't in Group Classes, true, he will be in Coach's day camp just about every day for the four weeks he is here. Stitch will be skating almost every day, while Nutso's kids will remain in their once-weekly 45 minute class. This is no contest, it's a slaughter, and Nutso has no idea. But that doesn't matter anyway, it's none of her business.

All the same, it was hard to forget Nutso's roving eye and sickly sweet commentary on Stitch as her eldest daughter looked at him with daggers in her eyes. The way Nutso complimented Stitch, I somehow got the feeling she'd grind off his toepicks if given half a chance, because it was all she ever said to me. Whenever I tried to talk about Non-Skating things, she'd gravitate right back to her kid's skating and how the skating school was failing them, and only kids with natural talent like Stitch could do it "at this low-quality place." I felt the need to keep him away from her then, and I still feel it now. For both our sakes. The only thing that made me happy about the jump to Pre-Free was that I'd never have to watch the Oldest Daughter glare at and be snotty to Stitch again. Nor would I have to answer questions and give advice about practice that I knew she wouldn't heed.

Nutso was definitely Toxic. From the lies about hockey, to the endless blaming of the Skating School for her son's lack of progress, the ridiculous Coach Hopping, and all the Rink Door Hovering in between, she was a piece of work. I'm sure I'll see Nutso again at Winter Show, or perhaps at Public Skate if she ever brings her kids to, I don't know, practice?  Something. But I won't tell her our summer plans. She doesn't need to know. I don't need someone else thinking that with Stitch on hiatus for six weeks, their children can "catch up."

(Okay, the thought of Shuffles jumping makes me giggle, so I'm still going to hell.)

New Skating Toys

Yesterday was lesson day, another shared hour. This is fine by me, really. As much as the Valiums annoy me, I appreciate the friendship the Boys are cultivating, and I know that all of this could serve me very well if they continue to progress at about the same rate. Yes, this is fine. I sat up in the stands with the Other Moms, right at that magic point where we could see over the condensation in the glass yet still get cool air off the rink.

I ran into another Mom who's little girl is competing next weekend. They were doing dress rehearsal, with a pretty little velvet number, swizzles and a spin. The Other Mom was expressing some concern. "Why are they changing the choreography? It's next weekend! Why is the coach doing this?"
"I don't know, but the music is cute." It was a jazzy little number about bugs that had a old-time feel to it.
"Yeah. Is it just me, or is everyone skating to 'Dynamite'?"
"It's not just you. Everyone is skating to 'Dynamite'," I assured her. "Everyone."

Stitch ran his Pink Panther number, scoring four runs with his music thanks to an Ice Monitor change mid-session. "That's her kid," Other Mom pointed out Stitch to Other Grandmother. "What's he at now? Delta?"
"Uh, this is at Freestyle One."
"Oh. He keeps skipping levels on me. Our Coach won't pass Our Kid out of Alpha until her crossovers are clean. How do you get those patches?"
"Talk to Mysteria," my plan to sabotage the Fake it till You Make it culture is starting to take root! "She'll help you get them."

Ms V was all cheery with Gordon's music. "It's so upbeat! Thank you so much!"

And actually, the "Tail Feather" part works really well with "Shoot the Duck." Most importantly, it's not "Dynamite."

"Did you cut Gordon's music?" asked Other Mom.
"Yeah, I think it's gonna look good. It's a popular song," I would have to give Ms V some costume pointers. No blue shirts this time, and might need a black fedora.
"How much do you charge to do that?"
"Um. Ten bucks?" I don't know, it doesn't take me very long.
"Good to know."

Well, okay, sure. Whatever. Ms V was already promising me something in return for my favor. "What should he wear?"
"Black pants, white button down shirt, thin black tie and pin it," I said. "Everyone will recognize him."
"Are you sure?" Ms V was getting nervous already.
"I'm sure." In fact, if Gordon can get up some speed and a smile, he'll bring the house down.



The lesson ended, and I took Stitch's things out to the stifling Lobby. The Rink is on day five I think of no AC in the lobby area, so only the rink itself is cool. I've been going from one temperature extreme to the other, and I'm taking precautions for Stitch's health and mine.
Ms V came out and looked anxiously for Coach. "I guess it's done... is she..."
"She has another kid on the ice, she may not have time today," I was taking off Stitch's skates. I'd left a note for Coach earlier in the week with the comp papers and my decision about Pre-Pre MIF testing.

But Coach came out anyway. "Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked me.
"Planning on it."
"I may have some time for him."
"Done."

She then moved to Ms V, taking some time with coupons and scheduling. That explains why Ms V had been quizzing me about Stitch's practice habits earlier. "But Stitch can practice on his own? You don't have to tell him anything?"
"No, I tell him what to do," I replied, and she looked crestfallen at this information. No, I don't sit in the stands and read just yet. I'm rinkside with a list of stuff and a stern expression, reveling in my Inner Joan Crawford. I've decided to embrace this role, at least for now.

I hear Other Moms lamenting as their daughters spend an entire hour spinning, "Why doesn't she practice anything else? She says she doesn't know what to practice!" Well, I had that same problem, and I solved it. If Other Moms want to think of me as a tyrant and a Stage mom, so be it.

As Coach lingered too long with Ms V, I watched the clock, knowing that some Other Mom was doing the same thing in the Rink. Coach dismissed herself quickly, with a "See you tomorrow" at me. Sundays are usually the best time to talk with her anyway.

That night, Stitch ran his program a few times, practiced the Kneel Thingie, and was looking much improved. "Work on those backwards edges," I told him. "Those are your weakest point right now, and those are judged. So, take some extra time on those."

Stitch did them, then went to play. He danced, spinning and jumping, and I finally saw the Bunny hop with a hand clap under the knee. His waltz jumps were higher, and I could see he was testing himself. Then he did a two foot hop, full rotation, and then he grinned at me like "did you see that?"
I see you, and you're awesome, but I may have to leave your practices when you start doing that with Coach. Mommy has a weak heart.

Dad and I have discussed Stitch's general negativity towards formal skating instruction. If he just wants to skate for fun, then why do lessons? Couple of reasons: One, Stitch clearly wants to do the cool Big Skater moves, and the only way he can do those safely is with a Coach at his side. Two, he loves to perform, and to learn moves worth performing with, he needs the formal instruction. Three, no matter how much he complains about new moves, the moment they enter his Skating Vocabulary, he will use them. The Three Turn, back crossover, waltz jump, half flip, all of that he now does on his own in his Improv Skating routines. And last night he did the Kneelie Thing, over and over and over again. It got better, every single time. In fact, if this keeps up, he'll have a smash ending to that program. New Skill; New Toy, and the kind that won't take up room in the closet.

I have a feeling that once we get out of this developmental Stage he's in, I'll be reading in the stands more often and spending less time rinkside. But I may keep on scowling, just to keep up appearances.

The Theatrical Code of Ethics and Figure Skating

In case you're just joining us, I have a deep theatre background. I did a travelling animal show when I was in my early teens, I was a Thespian in High School (including some acting), and I did Stage Management out of College and some Special Event Production. I still work in the business, but I don't do shows as much since that's real hard with a kid around. (Rehearsals until 12am and such.)

My approach to Skating has mirrored my theatre experience. From my vantage point, there's not much difference, just more athleticism involved. During Ice Shows, I tend to get some funny looks since I'm at every rehearsal, every show, from start to finish, no exceptions. Some Other Parents find me freakish for always being early for lessons and practices, and never missing a Group Class. Ever. I have discovered that I am a weird anomaly. Let me explain.

In theatre, we have an unwritten code of ethics. Well, someone did write it down in 1924, but for the most part actors, performers and stage folk operate by these rules. Let's go down the list, trading out theatre references for skating, and imagine the Skating Utopia that would happen if everyone followed these same unwritten rules.

Theatrical Code of Ethics

1. I shall never miss a performance Practice, Competition, or Ice Show.
2. I shall play Skate every performance Program with energy, enthusiasm and to the best of my ability regardless of audience size, personal illness, bad weather, accident or even death in the family. (Yes, you read that right.)
3. I shall forgo all social activities which interfere with rehearsals Lessons or any other scheduled work Practices at the theatre Rink, and I shall always be on time. (You read that right, too.)
4. I shall never make a curtain Competition, Ice Show or Practice late by my failure to be ready on time.
5. I shall never miss an entrance a Warm up or Start Time.
6. I shall never leave the theatre Ice Rink or the stage ice area until I have completed my performance Program or Practice, unless I am specifically excused by the stage manager Coach. Curtain Calls are a part of the Ice Show.
7. I shall not let the comments of friends, relatives or critics change any phase of my work Skating without proper consultation. I shall not change lines, business, lights, properties, settings or costumes or any phase of the production program without consultation with and permission of my director or producer Coach or their agents, and I shall inform all people concerned.
8. I shall forgo the gratification of my ego for the demands of the play Program.
9. I shall remember my business is to create illusion; therefore I shall not break the illusion by appearing in costume and makeup off stage ice or outside the theatre Rink.
10. I shall accept my director's and my producer's Coach's advice and counsel in the spirit in which it is given, for they can see the production Program as a whole and my work Skating from the front.
11. I shall never "put on an act" while viewing other artists' Skater's work as a member of an audience, nor shall I make caustic criticism from jealousy or for the sake of being smart.
12. I shall respect the play and the playwright Program and Ice Show, remembering that "a work of art is not a work of art until it is finished," I shall not condemn a play Program while it is in rehearsal Practice.
13. I shall not spread rumor or gossip which is malicious and tends to reflect discredit on my show skating, the theatre Rink, or any personnel connected with them, either to people inside or outside the group.
14. Since I respect the theatre Rink in which I work Skate, I shall do my best to keep it looking clean, orderly and attractive regardless of whether I am specifically assigned to do such work or not.
15. I shall handle stage Rink properties and costumes with care for I know they are part of the tools of my trade and are a vital part of the physical production.
16. I shall follow the rules of courtesy, deportment and common decency applicable in all walks of life when I am in the theatre Rink, and I shall observe the rules and regulations of any specific theatre Rink where I work Skate.
17. I shall never lose my enthusiasm for theatre Skating because of disappointments.

Did any of that make your head spin? Good. Now know that I am not the weirdo you think I am, I'm just doing what is normal.

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Jumping, Part 2

I've been talking about the various half jumps that Stitch has begun working on. Right now he's learning Waltz, Half Flip, Half Lutz, and some weird step thing called a Half Toe Walley which invited an evening's worth of Wall-E jokes during dinner one night.

In Skate Parent Land, that weird place in the stands where everyone sits and stares and asks, "which one is yours" and "how old are they", Jumping is the first and final measure of your kid's skating ability. If your child is not jumping, then they cannot skate. Period. That is the culture of the Stands. Do you remember The Two Questions? Well, now there are three. Age, Level, and what kind of jumps can they do?

Even I find myself sinking into this warped mentality. When other parents ask me what level he's at, and I say Pre-Freestyle, I've been quickly following up with "Oh, but he's learning that Lutz thing!" as a qualifier.

Of course, this is silly, and it's not all about jumping. Today I read a fabulous interview with Patrick Chan, who says that his best coach was the one who taught him how to use the blade properly, and not focus on jumps. I also recall reading somewhere that within a four minute program, a skater spends about thirty seconds total in the air. Me, I love to watch the dance step sequences the most.

I've heard Rink Gossip of kids who could jump like demons but had terrible technique otherwise. I had a chat with one mom where she bemoaned that Figure Skating had become so ugly, and that it was the focus on Jumps and Extreme Gymnastic Poses that was doing it. We then did a Parental Pantomime of the A-Frame Spin together, perhaps as a token of our shared opinion.

So, as of today, I am making a promise to myself and to Stitch to not participate in the Jumping Contest. When Other Parents ask me, I'll say I don't know what jumps he can do and I don't really care. I'm getting weary of the insinuation that Stitch can't skate simply because he's not making full rotations yet.

What Kind of Blade Guards should I buy?

This is a weird question I get from time to time from the newbies. The question usually takes the form of, "Do we need those thingies? The blade thingies? You know..." Yes, I know, and if you've invested in a pair of skates worth more than $100, then you should just pony up the additional $12 or whatever for some Blade Thingies. Protect the investment, if nothing else to retain some resale value. The less you sharpen them, the more they stay worth, and guards lengthen the time between sharpenings. Also, Guards protect you, the Skate Mom or Dad. Little kids are incredibly clumsy with their feet (this isn't an insult, it's just true) so adding a steel blade at face level while you try to lace them, when kid is wriggling and turning and playing with their friends can turn into an act of death defiance. I've seen several moms coming away from lacing up their kids, bloodied and battered. Better to take the blunt end of a guard to the face or sandaled foot than a toepick.

There's a few kinds of guards out there, and by observation I've seen that some are more of a pain in the ass than others.

First up, Soakers are not guards. Especially the cutesy animal soakers. Nothing is more disturbing than a six year old girl walking through the lobby with decapitated kitties on her feet. Soakers are for storage only, and even then you still have to give the blades a quick wipedown with a cloth to nix all excess snow before you put them on. Otherwise too much moisture will build up within the fabric and they will mildew. That's just gross and defeats the purpose of the soaker. Soakers are to catch condensation while the blade is still cold, not to soak up the Slurpee you dragged after you when you left the rink. Having said that, you can escape soakers entirely by laying a towel down on the bottom of your skate bag. That's what I did for Stitch for the first year, and it worked beautifully. (But now we have Bunny Soakers and I want to jab a toepick in my eye every time I accidentally hit one and it goes "boing! boing! boing!" and Stitch is nowhere so I look foolish. Again.)

Guards seem to be a personal preference thing. I like the Guard Dog hard guards, the kind where you get the four pieces and you cut off and assemble to fit the blade. Yes, this does mean that you need to buy new guards whenever you upgrade blade size, but we've had the red guards for a few months now and they are absolutely disgusting. It wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't handling them every time I'm at the rink, but I always end up carting them around for at least a half hour and I always think I'm going to get leprosy or something. Worse, Coach is now using them as teaching aides every so often, and I've seen other Coaches use them as Relay Race batons. New ones with every blade set doesn't sound so bad.

You, however, should purchase the other kind, the one with the top that goes over the toepick and a hook over the back end of the blade. While I have seen that this variety is more of a pain in the rear, what with me hunting those hooks all during ice show because they chronically fell off and Other Mom was having a hissy fit, these are easier for me to swipe from the Lost and Found in event that Stitch loses his. All joking aside, I would not buy this kind. I have spent countless hours with small children hunting down and replacing those stupid hooks, and since the guards themselves are poorly marked, I can never tell where they had been placed to begin with. Terrible, terrible, flawed design.

What about this kind?  You know what, hey, if you've got that kind of cash and don't mind dropping $25.00 on something that gets lost as quickly as your sanity, go right ahead. But if Sparkle Queen is passing on the LED Seizure Inducer Guards, that's saying something.

Be as religious as possible with the guards. I've recently seen a Coach call a pair of new (expensive) blades "destroyed" because Mom never put the guards on and little kid was always running rampant in the lobby with skates on his feet. If Kid is in skates but off the ice for more than ten minutes (longer than a Zamboni pass), get the guards. There are blade mawing holes in that rubber flooring, just waiting for your kid to try an off-ice spin. Just don't forget to remind small children that they've got them on. Nothing more embarassing than getting on the rink and taking a dive in front of the other kids, but they usually only do it once. On the plus side, you look a little more professional with plain hard guards than you would sliding on your butt with the decapitated kitties.

Wednesday Night Lights, Final Weeks

Last night I rushed home to get Stitch from lessons. (For all my Rink Friends: No, my Babysitter is not a Domestic Violence victim. Her husband is serving overseas, but her friend's car has no airbags and they had an accident. She's dinged up, but fine.)

I ran smack into Ms V, Other Mom and Coach talking at the Ice Door. I really had no interest in talking with the other moms, but Coach thanked me for running copies of the Practice Sheets for her other students. I said no problem and just let me know when it needs to be altered. I then relieved The Babysitter, offered her some parting Tylenol and sent her on her way. I stepped out into the lobby to talk with Rink Pal about what he wants to wear for Spring Show and everything went downhill from there.

Stitch came out for a quick hug and pants fixing (I hate that elastic for feet, never using it again) and back out he went. Rink Pal and I looked at drawings and made some decisions, and then we started talking. And talking. And talking. My beads languished in my bag, unfinished thread and all. (I'd say it's 65% done right now.) But we talked, slowly moving closer to the glass as I tried to see what was going on with the kids. I explained about by ban from watching, Rink Pal laughed at me and I stood on the benches to get a better view. Ballet jumps. Edges. Spins. The usual.

Eventually I creeped over and peered over the edge, while Ms V said that she hopes Gordon is "never like that, never wants me to watch him or hug him." Lady, your day is coming. Stitch caught me watching but did not give the Dismissal Hand Signal. I still didn't get to see much, as pretty soon all of us Parents were doing Parental Pantomime, mimicking and trying to figure the kid's moves.

If you've never caught a Parental Pantomime Act, you're missing out. All of us, with the exception of Other Girl's Mom, were doing spirals, hops, ballet moves, you name it. If we'd just had some French Mime outfits we could have sold tickets.

As a Parent, I tend to not realize I'm being ridiculous until it's too late. I'll start leaning from left to right, deeply, while Stitch is doing edges, like I'm using The Force to improve the element. Silly, isn't it? And yet you can't help yourself.

Stitch came off the ice, I made a quick appointment to talk to Coach about July, and we were done. Stitch and Gordon loitered at the Vending Machines, but unfortunately Stitch had spent just about all his allowance and a small Field Trip Bonus at the Nature Museum Trip the day prior. (Hard lessons about money. Sorry, kiddo!)

We came home and turned on Internets World Championships, Men's Short. We did our usual jabs at the costuming and such, but it hit me that Stitch is doing some of the same things these guys do. Stumbly first time tries, but it's the same concepts. Those Half Flips have the same basic concept as a Triple Flip, right? Just a few more times around?

Cool.

Rink Pal told me that he felt sorry for me, volunteering for costume room duty the weekend before Ice Show. "Why?" I asked.
"Because the costumes never arrive on time!"
"Then it seems I picked one of the better gigs then, right? Nothing to do if the costumes aren't here."

See, this is how I see the breakdown of Figure Skating.

You can't negate that 25% Show Business. The Costumes will never be on time.

Meanwhile, At the Vending Area

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(Edit: My International Readers might not get this one... Here in the US we still use mostly Paper Single Dollar Bills. Yes, it's silly, but all attempts to start using Dollar Coins have been met with resistance and suspicion. We can get them out of the vending machines, and it's really cool when we do. Yes, Stitch and I have pretended to be Pirates with ours.)