Ch-ch-ch-changes....

So, I always say, "As long as I'm talking, I'm happy. Even if I'm bitching, I'm happy. When I stop talking, I'm unhappy."

This blog has been quiet for a long time. And it's because I've been unhappy. Unhappy to the point where skating got very, very hard. Not hard as in "can't do this element" hard, but just plain hard. Hard to maintain motivation, hard to keep up a smile, hard to fathom just why I was throwing so much into it.

I loved skating, don't get me wrong. It was my love of skating in general that kept me going, but love only gets you so far. There was only so much plugging away I could do before I started getting frustrated, knowing I wasn't where I wanted to be or on the trajectory of getting there. I had started to dread lessons.

I used to love lessons, but what had once been a weekly session of checking in on tips from the previous week and learning something new had become a drawn out drag of the same thing, over and over again. Shifu complained about the hour, and when he didn't whine about the hour, he cancelled outright. My skating calendar was full of "Cancel/Reschedule," over and over. Makeups were missed, and by the time I got to a lesson I was so strung out I could barely skate. I had no schedule, and without a consistent schedule of Lessons and Practice Time, I was literally just going in circles.

I had to make a change.
I let go of Shifu.

There's more to it, more of my opinions as to why this was happening, but the bare bones is that I could not train without really knowing when my next lesson might be, or if it would be cancelled at the last moment as so many of them often were. Without consistency, I would continue to struggle. Shifu blamed me for being unable to skate on "Normal Sessions" at presumably normal times, or on sessions where there were lots of other skaters for me being unable to train. It's true; I don't like crowds and I have anxiety issues with crowded spaces. But that didn't make much sense, as I was already spending upwards of seven hours a week on the ice. Working as much as I do, my schedule is what it is, and fussing at me for having a job and a family that interfered with what Shifu considered reasonable was hurtful and a waste of time. And if there was ice that was empty, I'd be a complete fool to pass that up anyway. Besides, the one "reasonable hour" I could get to, he had already promised to other people. My best efforts to work with Shifu were consistently failing, and not through any fault of mine.

So I had to let him go. And it was hard, and it was messy, and I wish with all that is in me that it didn't have to happen this way. But I felt horrible, for so many reasons, and the Horrible Baggage was literally dragging me down.

I hired a new coach. My new coach is a breath of fresh air. He's on time, he's consistent, he doesn't spend any time at all with useless personal chitchat on the ice. He's always got something new, the past three lessons have all had new things. I'm challenged constantly, and when I'm in fear of falling that's good. And while I only have Coach for a half hour instead of a full hour, it feels like the same level of instruction given that he is on time and we aren't spending upwards of 20 minutes talking about non-skating things. In this regard, new coach is less expensive and of a higher quality. For the first time in over a year, I am sore after lessons. I came out ahead.

And I'm happy again. I look forward to lessons again. The change in my confidence alone has made a drastic difference. I'm no longer dragging myself to practice, looking for something, any glimmer of why this was fun. I have things to do, the hour isn't enough. It's not just new skills, there are changes to be made to old skills; my crossovers are getting a makeover and my turns are being pushed to the forefront.

What's more, I'm seeing a sports physician/chiropractor for my hip and knee problems. While I may never have the same flexibility on my left side as I do on my right, I am not in pain anymore. I also see a massage therapist to help manage the physical manifestations of my stress, and I'll be working with an off-ice coach come springtime. In short, instead of waiting for someone to treat me like an athlete, I'm treating myself like an athlete. I think I lot of my frustration was coming from waiting and wanting people to recognize my efforts. I realized that this won't ever happen, and it's up to me to treat me like an athlete. If I don't, no one will.

I get just as much instruction from Shifu as I once did, but it's in a much less expensive and much more stringent format: It's in a class. It's harder to be late/bail on/spend half the time allotted talking idle drama in a class. He still doesn't wear skates, which makes things confusing sometimes, but again, it's much less expensive so it doesn't bother me as much. And maybe one day he'll realize just why the entire class is confused. (It's the lack of visual demonstration. A lot of people need visuals, I'm one of those people.)

New Coach is in skates, and I have to chase him. We spent a morning on forward crossovers; he was pulling my free leg up and back, way higher than I'd ever thought possible. Being physically grabbed and maneuvered into proper position while at speed will take some getting used to. The past three lessons have been packed with new fixes to old problems, I have tons of skating homework, and I'm already feeling better about things. What's more, I don't feel the need to run to YouTube to get a visual of what an element is supposed to look like!

I'm happy again. And my skating is about me, not anyone else, and I can't and won't apologize for that.

Wrong Ways to Leave a Coach

When I first started out on this adventure, I never understood why Coach hopping was such drama. Now that I've been with a Coach for nearly two years, I totally get why. The USFS Parent's Guide says it's like a Divorce, and they're pretty much dead-on in terms of emotional attachment. But in squicky terms of decorum and manners, switching Coaches is a gray area. You don't want to hurt feelings, but you know you're going to, so people seem to do all sorts of weird, evasive, and sometimes passive aggressive, things to dodge the problem.

Here are some of ways that I've observed Other Parents handling Coaching swaps over the past two years.

The Dissatisfied Customer

As a consumer buying a Coaching Product, this Parent isn't liking what she's getting. What they're getting is Second Place. Or last place. Or any place other than First. You get the idea. Never mind that there are a host of other factors at work at any given competition and skating in general, clearly any loss or failure to progress is the Coach's fault. So, obviously a New Coach is needed. Duh.

The Conspiracy

A Vaguely Dissatisfied Mom is in the stands, and she happens to hook up with another Vaguely Dissatisfied Mom. The two of them start talking, and talking, and watching, and talking, and pretty soon Coach is not only responsible for the Skater's poor progress, we're pretty sure she's delivering nuclear material to Iranian malcontents. Neither of them say anything to Coach, because Coach would just ask them to be Drug Mules, probably. Who knows. Better just leave quickly.

The Slow Withdrawal

They haven't scheduled any private lessons in awhile. They used to have a pretty regular schedule, but now things are up in the air. A few weeks go by, they're rarely spotted at all, maybe at Group Lessons on the Off Day. Another few weeks go by, and then suddenly they're spotted with some other Coach. No one knows why, no one asks. We all just move on.

Magician Mom and the Disappearing/Reappearing Skater Trick

Sometimes some skater drops off the radar for awhile. Just gone. Magician Mom has waved her magic minivan and they stopped coming. Coach asks if you've seen them, and you say no. You just assume they've moved or in some cases hope they've been carted off by gypsies. But no, a few weeks later they reappear. Magician Mom opened her magic minivan and Skater reappeared! With a New Coach! It's magic!

The Surprise

Surpriser just pops up on a lesson day and says, "Well, I guess this is goodbye." Doesn't give a reason or explanation, never gave any indication that she was the least bit concerned or unhappy, just parts ways. Like ripping off a Band Aid. It's okay. No real feelings hurt here, right? .... *crickets*

The Mover

Want to move to a new rink? Clearly, this means a fresh start! Mover believes this method also clears any unwanted and awkward meetings with Old Coach. Because Coaches always stay at their Home Rinks, and never go anywhere else. **snorfle**

The Hopper

This one likely comes with a lot of baggage. Hopper goes from Coach to Coach, never sticking with anyone and always thinks of her kid's private skating lessons as "one-offs." Because she's chronically switching, her kids progress really slowly and Hopper will say it's because she hasn't found the "right" coach yet. Hopper really doesn't fit in with the "Bad Ways to Switch Coaches" list, because she's more a "Clueless Parent" category, but she's worth mentioning because it's just as rude.

Me? If I ever do switch, it will be via Fax. Fax, Voice Mail, or Text Message, these are all the clear winning ways to fire an employee. (This is sarcasm.)

What horrible ways have you seen or heard of when people switch coaches?

Countdown to Round #5

Stitch is getting worked up about this competition, moreso than in the past. I've taken more of a backseat approach to this one, letting Coach and Stitch handle the On Ice things and me just arranging the scheduling and sewing. Apparently I should be stepping in with a bit more cheerleading, as he seems to need it.

Lately he's been carting out his past trophies, setting them and arranging them while wearing the two medals. He looked at the Second Place trophy and called it "an embarassment." Honestly, I don't know where he's getting this from, because it doesn't come from me. I tell him to do his best, and if he doesn't want Second Place, well, he better get it together. No one makes that decision but him.

I talked on the phone with Coach at some length over the holiday weekend, and she reported that during the final days at "skate camp" Stitch did very well. He was engaged and working hard, and this made me happy. She also relayed the disturbing news that Gordon and the Valium Family had left her, taking off for Other Rink and some other Coach.

I was kind of sad at this. While listening to Gordon drive Stitch nutty with his talk of how much better his Tiger Soakers are than Bunny Soakers, the two boys did do well together. Honestly, this wasn't entirely unexpected for me. I'd been listening to MsV rattle on for weeks about "more competitive Coaches" and "will we ever go somewhere with this." I could sense her growing unease with what she percieved as a lack of momentum. I knew why she was going to Other Rink, I knew who she was going with and why they were leaving en masse. MsV had even spent a good half hour encouraging me to follow, stating a bunch of weird things about "Olympic level Coaches" and "getting Stitch evaluated" to see if "he could do 'it,'" but I'd politely declined.

Godspeed, is all I can say.

At any rate, this leaves Stitch as Coach's only Figure Skating boy. (To my knowledge, anyway.) The departure of two boys also thins the field of boys at our rink. At least now I won't have to worry about Gordon's mom actively copying my costume ideas.

I'll finish the bottom hems on Stitch's competition pants this weekend, since the pants I sewed not but two months ago are now too short. I'm getting concerned about skates; while Stitch says his skates feel fine, I'm debating just going ahead and ordering a new pair in the Spring, right after the planned March Comp. He's shot up nearly six inches in the past year, I can't believe his feet haven't grown as well. And the new emphasis on Jumping is starting to take a toll on the boot itself. With a four to five week lead time on boy's skates, it may be wise to plan ahead.

Tonight is Rescheduled Lesson, as neither Coach nor myself wanted to end the Holiday weekend with a 5am wakeup call. Next week we get back on normal schedule, and begin the honest fretting about Competition Day. The weather seems cooperative, so my fears about an event named after Bad Weather are needless.

I think he'll be fine, and his worrying is encouraging to me. A little worry is fine, it riles to blood a bit. Don't lose sleep over it, but worry enough to make yourself prepare, kid.

How Can Coaches Promote Themselves?

Reader Kristen brought up an interesting point in the "Who's That Skater?" post, regarding Coaches who skate in shows. It was mentioned that the shows might be a way for Coaches to promote themselves, but Kristen noted quite wisely that if ALL the coaches did that, there would be no room for the kids.

Again, I already assume a coach can skate fairly competently. But this is going to be a shocker; I'm not really paying for skating ability. I'm paying for a Coach's ability to teach my child. And my child is different from other children, so I have to make sure I have a good teaching method match compared to other Coaches teaching methods. Not only that, but I have to make sure that these two get along.

There's a Coach who I watch do some pretty great skating moves, but I wouldn't want this Coach for Stitch. This Coach doesn't teach in a way that kids learn well from, in my opinion. There's another Coach who I consider to be too stand-offish, another I think secretly hates children, one is too soft for a hard case like Stitch, another is hard to understand and Stitch has trouble with accents sometimes. And there's a lot of Coaches I'd love to toss Stitch to just to see what happens, but for that I have to rely on Luck of the Draw in Group Classes. (Another reason I value Group Classes.)

But how can Coaches promote themselves? I've never seen a Coach's business card, was never approached by a Coach back in the early days, and even now I think some Coaches talk to me only because I've established myself as relatively harmless. We've been with Coach Y for a year, and I've never seen her have a card, or even any semblance of paperwork with her name or contact information on it. My invoices are scraps of paper and my memory. It seems less of a business and more of a Mob operation. Mister Miyagi from Karate Kid was more organized. (Did that kid's mom ever get a bill?)

If this is these people's livelihood, how are they advertising themselves? How are they getting more kids to their stable?

Back when I "hired" Coach Y, I asked her on the phone, "Which one are you?"
"I'm the one in the yellow coat. You've seen me."
I had to think back. Stitch was in Pre-Alpha, and yes, I'd seen a woman in a yellow coat with the PA2 kids, and I liked the way she kept them off the wall and used cones. Cones are cool. Okay, this seems fine. (Again, no one had talked to me beyond, "Fill out the form and wait for a call." I had no clue how this process worked.)

The way I understand it, Coaches get visibility in the Group Classes. They can see the kids and parents, so when the kids want a private coach, the parent has some idea of who to talk to. (Provided the parents know that, yes, you can talk to Coaches you have a fondness for.) This relies on Coaches actually being in Group Classes, being on their best behavior in Group Classes, and maybe stopping to chat with Parents in a friendly way before rushing off. This is a fine way to get yourself seen.

But I don't see this happening that often. That scenario is really rare. I've had some Group Class coaches I've wanted to hit with a blow dart from the stands, and some Coaches I hardly ever see in Group Classes at the PreStyle level. When they do deign to show up, they act kinda nonchalant or distant. Again, give me my blow dart because I know swizzles are boring but they are important! Some of these PreStyle Group Classes wound up as glorified public skate sessions, because none of the Coaches took the warmups seriously. (Blow darts for all the parents in the stands that day, 50% of whom were bitching about the wasted time and lesson.)

And then there are the Secret Coaches, the ones you only learn about from hanging around the Rink long enough and asking enough questions. The Coach who only works with adults but is really cool, the Coach who is renown for his choreography, the Dance Coach, and the Jump Coach who may as well be on a gilded litter, pushed around the ice by a pack of Pre-Alpha Servant Kids. How do they promote themselves?

Working in Sales, I know Word of Mouth Advertising is great. But how do these people get the mouths going? If anyone asks me about Coaching, and how I feel about Coach Y, I say she's tough but she gets the job done in a caring way. If they feel their kid can handle it, go for it. So yes, I will freely promote Coach Y. But I also promote other coaches, too. "This Coach is great, that one works well with the littler ones, this one might be a good fit for your kid, that junior Coach is fantastic, avoid that one because she seems to be a changeling of some kind, stay away from that bunch," and so on. But I can't imagine running a business based on Other Parents talking about me. I know how I can talk about people sometimes.

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?

Crap, what now?

I think I've made it abundantly clear how much I like Coach. Hopefully I've made it clear to her as well. I'm always saying thank you, I keep her paid up, I'm offering to help if she needs it and staying out of the way when they need serious time. I don't know what else I can do.

Apparently we've had our first misunderstanding. Like in a baby book, but with a touch more drama. I hate drama. Hopefully I've cleared it up a little, and will do so entirely on Saturday when I see her next, but I have to wonder what kind of clientele she keeps if four minute long rambling voice mails that go into way too much of her personal business are standard operating procedure. (Seriously, I 3'd through some of it because I didn't think it was my business to know..)

I'm a bit vexed. I never did anything but be where I was told to be when I was told to be there. I don't think I've been demanding in any way, but Coach interpreted something I said as a demand. Then I got frantic phone calls when there's nothing to be frantic about, with subtle apologies like I might blow this incident out of proportion and leave. What in god's name goes on in that Rink?

I've often wondered what Coach makes of me. I have to admit, when all this first started I was a bit intimidated by her. Okay, more than a bit. Maybe she thought me mousy and weird at first. But as we've gone on, I've gotten more accustomed to it all and realized that she's just people too. We've had some great conversations about skating, where she's from, what I've done, and Stitch. Nothing to be scared of here, and it's the same story with all the other coaches and the skating director. Just people doing jobs. I'm sure that some of my clients can find me intimidating when I start warning them of Keystoning, Rush Charges, and Logistics. I'm pretty sure I intimidated some truck driver when I unloaded a pallet of paint while wearing 3" heels. At the end of the day, Skating People are just people doing jobs. I understand her worry that I will find another Coach, but she has nothing to worry about. This was a simple misunderstanding. I was the one who wasn't totally clear, so I take responsibility.

So. (Buttons)  I have a bit of a mess waiting for me on Saturday. Maybe this will make it clear to her that I don't expect hand-holding, and if I need help I will ask for it. I don't know what other kinds of parents she has, but they're not me. Please don't interpret a casual request as a demand. I can take a "No" and not lose stride. When I'm being demanding, she'll know.

Coaching

Stitch has private lessons. Most skaters do. The reason being that skating is exceptionally hard and it's not always possible to pick up the skills completely in a group setting, so the kid needs a little help. The flip side is that the skills get picked up too quick and the kid spends a lot of time bored at the boards. (Get it? Hardeharhar.)

In the early days, Stitch spent a lot of time being bored in Pre-Alpha 1. He got it pretty fast, and since he was spending his time chasing rink guards at public skate, he had a fair amount of speed. I debated for about two weeks and consulted an online expert before proceeding.

Is it expensive? Well, how do you define expensive?

Stitch gets supplementary privates for a half hour twice a month. It costs me the same as fifteen trips to Starbuck's within that same thirty day period. I had a choice; I could stop on my way to work and ingest a calorie laden coffee beverage, or I could watch my kid rock a two foot spin.

I really didn't need those calories.

Our rink has forms that you fill out to request private coaching. I turned one in, and got a call a few days later. She gave him a trial lesson (which must be paid for) and he did some amazing things at. So she's our Private Coach, and Stitch still takes the Group Lessons.

It's a perfect balance, actually. I wouldn't dream of doing strictly Privates, because Stitch learns the mechanics of the moves in Group, and learns polish in Privates. When he's got the moves down pat, she introduces him to more challenging things, like Shoot the Duck and the Waltz Jump. Coach will also choreograph his competition routines through the Learn to Skate levels, so it's a great bargain.

I will admit now that I was seriously debating a coaching change. I even went so far as to ask my Coach in question. He said sure, and his rates were the same. The reason I was thinking about it was because Stitch was interpreting Coach as "Mean." He would often be angry after lessons, saying he was tired of being bossed around. Skating is supposed to be for fun, right? So, I asked this coach because Stitch saw this particular coach as Fun.

That was a month ago, and a lot can happen in a month. I have since changed my mind. Coach is making some great progress with Stitch, and I love her coaching style. I don't want to interrupt a good thing, especially when he's walking into Backwards Crossovers and just on the hinge of learning a Waltz Jump.

There is a Russian welder in our shop, and I asked him if he could teach me to say, "Isn't she a bitch," in Russian so I could say it about one of our skating moms. He laughed and we got to talking. I said that my kid thinks Coach is Mean. "She isn't mean, she's Stern. Stitch needs to get the difference."

Wolfgang (his nickname) smiled and said, "That's the way they are, especially with sports. If she's just being stern, she's trying really hard."

Coach clearly likes Stitch, and she does try hard. Today I'm going to give her Carte Blanche to push Stitch. I have video evidence of a one-foot spin and a catch-blade spiral, moves Stitch refused to do for Coach because he knew full well that she would make him work harder.

I gave the same permission to Stitch's teacher to get him to read material that was more appropriate for his reading level, and not the baby board books he will pick out on his own. He freely admits that they are easy and he'll get done faster. Stitch thinks he's cheating me, Dad, and Teacher. He's not, he's only cheating himself.

I showed Stitch "She's a Good Skate," the Snoopy cartoon where Snoopy plays irascible skate coach to Peppermint Patty. "Is that like Coach sometimes?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you think Snoopy is being mean, or is he trying to get Patty to skate better?"

"Skate better."

"That's what your Coach is doing, too."

So, as Peppermint Patty says so succinctly, "There's no one harder to please than a Skate Coach."

I Listen

I'm a Listener. Had I been an American Indian, I would have been the one with my ear to the ground. I overher all sorts of crazy crap, but mostly at the rink.

I'm told that our rink is very unique in that mostly everyone is supportive and friendly. I know a lot of names by now, and mostly everyone knows or at least knows of Stitch. Stitch enjoys a minor celebrity status being the favorite of the Rink Guards. However, we're not free of our share of weirdos, and Stitch is encountering what will be his first tastes of rivalry. Not that he knows it, I just overhear it.

Saturday Stitch had a private lesson. His regular Privates are on a smaller rink, usually shared by four or five other kids getting privates from other coaches. One of these coaches I'll call Neil Diamond. (Not because it's a dead match, but he reminds me of the famous singer.) I don't particularly like Coach Diamond's teaching style. It mostly involves him running fast circles of the maneuver to be learned, while the kid struggles to perform it in the center of this whirling madness. Add to that Coach Diamond's calls of, "Do it! Put your foot there! Come on!"

Our Coach first does a patient explanation, followed by demonstrations, then Stitch tries. Demonstrate, try. Demonstrate, try, try again. Demonstrate, try, try, try again. And so on. Stitch may not pick it up right that day, but as I always say, "Tomorrow is another day." (Skating is hard.)

Coach Diamond's student I will call Richie Rich. Because he is a millennial version of Richie Rich. His mom and dad sit on the benches, watching like hawks. The mom wears fitted furs and does a lot of glaring. Sometimes at me. It's unnerving. I tried once to engage the dad in conversation, but he politely responded before making it clear he wasn't interested. Richie Rich has never once spoken to Stitch, even though they are the same age and skating level. He wears some serious high test skates, very new.

Coach Diamond and Richie Rich were out together again this past Saturday. I was in the lobby, having just finished up with Stitch's skates and told him to report to the ice to wait for Coach. Diamond was greeting Richie's well dressed parents and the Dad was making comments about the Ice Show rehearsal the previous day.

"Oh, yes, we're really happy. At rehearsal that night, all those other boys were marching like this," and he made some wonky jerky motion. "But not Richie, he knew what he was doing!"

I smiled. "All those other boys?" Yeah, okay.

I learned from Rink Informant that Coach Diamond at one point was "watching" Stitch. But now that Stitch is the clear property of Coach Y, he may have switched camps. Stitch informed me that Coach Diamond ushered him to "shoo shoo shoo" away from a specific area during practice ice one afternoon. Now, I don't know the context or what Stitch was doing. I wasn't there. But if Stitch was doing crossovers or any other sort of serious practicing, then I have a problem. For now, I let it go.

Coach Diamond knows what his parents want, and he gives it to them. A few weeks ago, he was teaching Richie a two foot hop with a half rotation. He called this a "Mazurka." (I know it's a real move, I just don't know if they were doing it right. They weren't moving when they did it.) Mom and Dad gushed and applauded from the sidelines. They spent a good ten minutes doing this, and again, I'm not sure if it was correct. Parents love jumps. Jumps are Super Cool. A half done jump is way cooler than a boring crossover, sure. But the Boring Crossovers come FIRST.

So, Richie Rich is doing standstill Mazurkas, and Stitch is still stumbling through the mechanics of a backwards crossover. That jumping over there is way cool, but watch Richie try a backwards crossover. He stumbles a lot more than Stitch. I think this is a grave coaching error. Basic moves come before jumps!!

At the end of the lesson, Coach Diamond picked up Richie and swung him around head down on the ice. Both of them were laughing and making noise, round and around they went, and I was horrified. If at any point I had considered switching to Coach Diamond, that door closed in that moment. One, that is incredibly dangerous. Two, I'm paying you to coach, not turn the ice into a playground. Three, I'm all for being friends, but a Coach needs to have a student's respect. Hard to maintain when you're swinging a student by his toes. (And I don't see Stitch being very responsive to his coaching style.)

I will continue listening to Coach Diamond and his parents, and I will see if my Rink Informant has any new information for me.

On the homefront, Stitch showed me rather definitively that he can do a very low Shoot the Duck off the ice. He got down and stuck that foot right out there. "Holy cow, kiddo!"

"Yeah, but I can't do it on the ice," he lamented.

"Try it on Friday, just keep practicing."

He also showed me that he can almost make a full rotation jump. I was having him do half-rotations in the parking lot, but then he decided to go all the way. He can almost make it!

One of my points with Coach will be to ask for a list of things we can do off the ice, at the playground so Stitch can improve his strength. Another is a list of moves I can run down with Stitch on Public Skate.

Good Days and Bad Days

Yesterday was "test day." It's the day when all the parents sit in the stands, watching and waiting anxiously to see if our child will "test out" of his or her current level and be moved up. This is where the blades hit the pavement, and any weak skaters are winnowed out, and here in the Pre-Alpha ranks it means doomed to repeat another ten weeks of forward swizzles, one foot glides, and backwards wiggles.

I had been gearing up K to practice for the past two weeks, telling him test day was at hand. He did his backwards swizzles with glide dutifully.

Then came the day. I watched in growing horror as only two coaches led the warmups. Four weeks of this Pre-Alpha run, K had been bunched with the Pre-Alpha 1 kids. It was looking more and more likely he'd test with them this week. Sure enough, a junior coach and an older man who was a stranger to me, skated out and bunched the two groups together. K was mad. He scraped ice, made faces, rolled his eyes, and crossed the ice with the angry one foot glides he normally reserved for me. How could they test so many kids (about 20) in twenty minutes?

Short answer: They can't.

At the end of the session, K skated up to get his paper, and was told, "Come back next week. We'll test you then."

Well, that's a problem, fellas. We won't be here. We had planned our vacation schedule around the fact that the last class session is typically Game Day and easily skipped. As much as I love watching my kid skate, my husband has other ideas about actually getting away from things for awhile. So, what now?

The gentleman huffed and hawed and fished out a paper declaring that K had passed. well, I knew he'd passed, but this lacked the ceremony, the joy, the grandeur of skating on your own in front of a coach that K had loved last time. In comparison to skating across the ice, waving a sheet of assurance that YOU ARE A GOOD SKATER, this felt like a consolation prize and a dismissal. K was mad.

Remember me saying that K makes mountains out of molehills, and one bad event will upset his day? He's getting better about these things, but yesterday was awful. K could have cared less about skating, and didn't want to talk about Alpha 1 at all. I signed him up for the class, pointed to the Xmas show schedule, and he muttered that he didn't want to do it anymore.

One of my skating parent friends walked past me, and asked if K had passed. I said yes. She narrowed her eyes and said that her daughter was being held back. I sighed. It had been an off day for her little one to begin with, and the grouping made it worse. I had to wonder if Shuffles had passed. (Have I mentioned Shuffles? Another post...) If he did, I'd have to question the sanity of this coach.

We went back to skate that afternoon. K had the ice relatively quiet and to himself for the first half hour, and he did some serious "fancy skating." He danced. He did crossovers. He hopped and spun. He then made snowballs and coated his gloves with snow before pounding them all over me, showering me with snow. We both felt better.

Here in the lower levels, things don't seem to be taken very seriously. Pre-Alpha is the lower, lower level of this hell, truly, and I am glad to be out of it. The kids who shuffle and fall, the ones whose ankles bend in perilously and painfully close to the ice, the ones who turn to go backwards and then stand in stark frustration as nothing happens, those are the ones who aren't taken very seriously and need to be. In the last session of Pre-alpha 1, the head coach skipped out at least three times out of a ten session class. In this session of PA1, the head coach dropped the class entirely and gave it to someone else, who skipped out three or four times. Our session of PA2, the head coach skipped out three times. These are ten class sessions, with the last class being a non-learning day. That's a 30% to 50% skip rate for the coaches. Is anyone going to tell me seriously that this happens in Freestyle?

You know, I get that it can be boring. I understand that watching Shuffles shuffle across the ice for the hundredth time can be maddening. It's maddening for me and I'm a spectator. But my job is deadly boring on some days as well. I still show up.

Kids know when they're being dissed. They know when adults don't care or are indifferent. I know that the lower levels are akin to a Skatey Mill, and kids cycle out and through quickly, but there's always that one kid who might do better. I have the benefit of a private coach to make up for bad Group Lessons like this, but other kids don't. I really feel bad for them right now. (And where is Teddy Bear Hat? I haven't seen him in three weeks.)

When Coach Y called me to cancel Saturday's lesson, she had a valid reason and an apology. I explained things to K and he understood. Coach Y had a make-up day in mind, (which is today) and he's ready for it. He looks forward to all his skating lessons, but he truly likes the private lessons best. And yesterday when I watched those few unrequested crossovers happen, I was assured of progress. He's seven. Let him be seven. It's something I say to myself daily. It's one day, but it was a bad day for it.

Today is our last day of skating for almost two weeks, and the month of August is a complete clusterfuck. I have told myself, "DO NOT FRET OR WORRY ABOUT SKATING FOR AUGUST. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING RELATING TO THE COMPETITION DURING AUGUST." That being said, I spent the final days of July learning that I could rent a sewing machine for $15 a week, and downloaded a free music editor off the interwebs. But it's August now. We have a few public skate sessions, which have been specially designated as "play only" (I can't request anything) and two private lessons. Class starts again in mid-September.