My Mother in Law visited recently. And she had lost a lot of weight. She informed us of the obvious success of her recent dieting efforts, and congratulations went all around. This was a battle she had been putting off for some years, and to see her fighting and winning it makes me happy.
When we asked what had influenced her to suddenly diet and lose the weight, MIL cited a recent doctor's visit which was all bad. She knew she had to make a change, and soon. But then she said something that made me laugh: Coach Y.
When MIL was taking Stitch to Summer Lessons, she would sit in the stands and sew, much like me. And one day Coach Y asked her to please take the music CD to the booth. MIL, sighed and said how hard it was to climb the stairs.
Coach Y wasn't having it. "You have a young grandson. You should be in better shape."
MIL whipped out her standard "I'm old" excuse.
Nonplussed, Coach Y revealed that there was only two years worth of age difference between them.
And that did it for MIL. She resolved, pretty much that day, that it was time. She's lost fifteen pounds and is exercising regularly.
We're all proud of her.
And I know she can't wait to finish her diet and go see Coach Y again. Never underestimate the value of a frank appraisal.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Friday, December 16, 2011
Off Topic: The Advent Calendar
With Ice Show behind us, I can finally concentrate my domestic efforts on a Family Holiday. We typically don't travel, as Dad's show schedule keeps us home, so we just settle in and enjoy the day. I've been slowly moving away from a Consumer Oriented holiday, focusing less and less on gifts, and more on creating new Traditions and Family. We're not exactly Christian, either, so I'm going to try my hand at some other Holiday things like Latkes and Dreidels.
We also switched up the Christmas Tree in favor of a Christmas Ladder, painted green and decorated. Stitch and the Cats love it. With less stress on Gift Giving and Budget Straining, a break in the Gotta Do Tradition monotony, more focus on tasty treats, friends and family, I'm more in the holiday spirit than I've been in years.
My well-meaning Aunt had sent me a Playmobil Advent Calendar last year, and last night I got it into my head that this would be a great new tradition to start. Yes, an Advent Calendar. Never mind that we're halfway through the month, let's do this.
Stitch was in bed, I had a hot toddy in hand, holiday music was softly playing, and I bust out this Advent Calendar.
The premise is simple: For every day there is a small box with some pieces of the final "scene" to be assembled. A hat, the snowman, a park bench, a person, you get the idea. The set comes with 24 tiny numbered boxes that you have to assemble, and fill with the proscribed toys as per the instructions which are in German. There are also two unnumbered boxes and three boxes printed to look like wrapped gifts.
There are four large bags of toy pieces in various states of assembly. Medium size pieces like people and furniture are ready to go, small and large bits like hats and sleighs you have to put together.
There is one big cardboard display board, to which you will presumably affix the loaded toy boxes to. There is no sequence to the numbers, they are scattered haphazardly across the board. The final toy "scene" is a town square with three kids playing hockey in the middle. Hockey, go Figure right? (Get it, go Figure? Hahahahaha!) Santa is presumably involved.
I sit by the light of my Christmas Ladder, and spread out the cardboard scene, little boxes, small toys and instructions. I set to identifying which tiny bits go in which tiny box.
The first few days are pretty simple. Week one, we were supposed to get the big things like the Snowman, the Park Bench, and the Hockey Net. We also got a little girl, but I couldn't find her right off so some other kid went in her box. Whatever.
Week two, things got a little more complicated. We got two more kids early in week, some fences, a patch of ice and a warning sign. Then one kid got his hockey stick, little tiny hockey guard things, and some tiny hockey pucks. I know full well I will be scooping tiny hockey pucks out of the catbox come New Year. The second kid doesn't get his hockey stick or guards or pucks until three days later, so he better steer clear of that other kid in the meantime. Our little girl doesn't get her tiny scarf or hat until two weeks after her arrival onto the scene, so let's hope that snowman she's building is actually made of polarfleece.
Week three, things got bizarre. In one box went a Star of David on a stick. For a few moments I was concerned that this yellow Star of David was supposed to go on someone's sleeve, but then I found the corresponding stick. This is a lantern of some kind. The sleigh arrives in week three, which must be assembled with stickers, runners and harness. But it doesn't fit in the box with the harness on, so I had to take it apart right after I figured how to get it together.
At this point I decide to start putting the little loaded boxes on the cardboard display, but after having them fall off pretty consistently, I decide to forego the display board. I instead just stack the little boxes on the Cardboard Scene display, be done with it, and make another Hot Toddy.
Week four, our little hockey players finally get their skates. I note with some stupor that they are double runner skates. Why would hockey players be in double runners? The sober corner of my mind says, "So the toys stand up," but then I wonder why the skates were not molded to the feet in the first place. What were these kids doing, playing hockey without skates for two weeks?
Then it hits me; Broomball!
I'm instructed to put some tiny ski poles and skis into a box, and I'm wondering who the hell is skiing. I don't remember a skiier. Maybe it's Snowman Builder Girl, she needed something else to do after freezing her butt off for a week. Then the instructions tell me to put tiny wheels on a tiny car frame, followed by a tiny car body, and put the resulting toy of a toy into one of the preprinted gift boxes and put that into one of the numbered boxes. The thought "TOYCEPTION," comes to me, my mind is momentarily blown and I make another Hot Toddy.
The toy car is apparently remote controlled, but by the time I found the remote, I was boxing up the toy bear so I just threw it in there. The toy bear is now remote controlled.
The Reindeer arrives on the 23rd, but he doesn't fit in his box unless you bow his head down way low so he's nibbling his hocks. He's also stunningly realistic in comparison to our stylized people, and boxy looking Santa, who also does not fit in his box unless you take the hat off.
At this point I see the purpose of the two unnumbered boxes, as I have a smattering of hats, a part of a harness, a tiny baby bottle, and a hockey puck leftover. I put these things into Grab BagBox and clean up my mess.
Dad comes home and notes the stack of tiny cardboard boxes. "It's supposed to be an Advent Calendar," I explain. "But I messed it up. It will still work."
"We're halfway through the month," he seems confused.
"Better late than never."
As I head to bed, the thought occurs to me that the tiny Playmobil hockey skates will likely fit on our Playmobil Pirates. Pirate Hockey must become a new Holiday Tradition. Why else would there be so much rum?
We also switched up the Christmas Tree in favor of a Christmas Ladder, painted green and decorated. Stitch and the Cats love it. With less stress on Gift Giving and Budget Straining, a break in the Gotta Do Tradition monotony, more focus on tasty treats, friends and family, I'm more in the holiday spirit than I've been in years.
My well-meaning Aunt had sent me a Playmobil Advent Calendar last year, and last night I got it into my head that this would be a great new tradition to start. Yes, an Advent Calendar. Never mind that we're halfway through the month, let's do this.
Stitch was in bed, I had a hot toddy in hand, holiday music was softly playing, and I bust out this Advent Calendar.
Ours is not the cutesy animal one, but you get the idea.
The premise is simple: For every day there is a small box with some pieces of the final "scene" to be assembled. A hat, the snowman, a park bench, a person, you get the idea. The set comes with 24 tiny numbered boxes that you have to assemble, and fill with the proscribed toys as per the instructions which are in German. There are also two unnumbered boxes and three boxes printed to look like wrapped gifts.
There are four large bags of toy pieces in various states of assembly. Medium size pieces like people and furniture are ready to go, small and large bits like hats and sleighs you have to put together.
There is one big cardboard display board, to which you will presumably affix the loaded toy boxes to. There is no sequence to the numbers, they are scattered haphazardly across the board. The final toy "scene" is a town square with three kids playing hockey in the middle. Hockey, go Figure right? (Get it, go Figure? Hahahahaha!) Santa is presumably involved.
I sit by the light of my Christmas Ladder, and spread out the cardboard scene, little boxes, small toys and instructions. I set to identifying which tiny bits go in which tiny box.
The first few days are pretty simple. Week one, we were supposed to get the big things like the Snowman, the Park Bench, and the Hockey Net. We also got a little girl, but I couldn't find her right off so some other kid went in her box. Whatever.
Week two, things got a little more complicated. We got two more kids early in week, some fences, a patch of ice and a warning sign. Then one kid got his hockey stick, little tiny hockey guard things, and some tiny hockey pucks. I know full well I will be scooping tiny hockey pucks out of the catbox come New Year. The second kid doesn't get his hockey stick or guards or pucks until three days later, so he better steer clear of that other kid in the meantime. Our little girl doesn't get her tiny scarf or hat until two weeks after her arrival onto the scene, so let's hope that snowman she's building is actually made of polarfleece.
Week three, things got bizarre. In one box went a Star of David on a stick. For a few moments I was concerned that this yellow Star of David was supposed to go on someone's sleeve, but then I found the corresponding stick. This is a lantern of some kind. The sleigh arrives in week three, which must be assembled with stickers, runners and harness. But it doesn't fit in the box with the harness on, so I had to take it apart right after I figured how to get it together.
At this point I decide to start putting the little loaded boxes on the cardboard display, but after having them fall off pretty consistently, I decide to forego the display board. I instead just stack the little boxes on the Cardboard Scene display, be done with it, and make another Hot Toddy.
Week four, our little hockey players finally get their skates. I note with some stupor that they are double runner skates. Why would hockey players be in double runners? The sober corner of my mind says, "So the toys stand up," but then I wonder why the skates were not molded to the feet in the first place. What were these kids doing, playing hockey without skates for two weeks?
Then it hits me; Broomball!
I'm instructed to put some tiny ski poles and skis into a box, and I'm wondering who the hell is skiing. I don't remember a skiier. Maybe it's Snowman Builder Girl, she needed something else to do after freezing her butt off for a week. Then the instructions tell me to put tiny wheels on a tiny car frame, followed by a tiny car body, and put the resulting toy of a toy into one of the preprinted gift boxes and put that into one of the numbered boxes. The thought "TOYCEPTION," comes to me, my mind is momentarily blown and I make another Hot Toddy.
The toy car is apparently remote controlled, but by the time I found the remote, I was boxing up the toy bear so I just threw it in there. The toy bear is now remote controlled.
The Reindeer arrives on the 23rd, but he doesn't fit in his box unless you bow his head down way low so he's nibbling his hocks. He's also stunningly realistic in comparison to our stylized people, and boxy looking Santa, who also does not fit in his box unless you take the hat off.
At this point I see the purpose of the two unnumbered boxes, as I have a smattering of hats, a part of a harness, a tiny baby bottle, and a hockey puck leftover. I put these things into Grab BagBox and clean up my mess.
Dad comes home and notes the stack of tiny cardboard boxes. "It's supposed to be an Advent Calendar," I explain. "But I messed it up. It will still work."
"We're halfway through the month," he seems confused.
"Better late than never."
As I head to bed, the thought occurs to me that the tiny Playmobil hockey skates will likely fit on our Playmobil Pirates. Pirate Hockey must become a new Holiday Tradition. Why else would there be so much rum?
Sunday, August 21, 2011
And we're back
Stitch is in bed, unhappy at a quasi-normal bedtime, but cleaner than he's been in weeks. The last few nights at the cottage, he shunned his bed for a pallet and a sleeping bag on the screen porch, sleeping to the wind and the waves on the beach. I was proud of him, as this was his first time doing that alone. All week I was marveling at how he's growing up and moving away from me in bits and pieces. I'm torn over this. The only cuddles I got were "recovery" cuddles after a frightening moment, and those were few and far between. At the hardware store, I bought him a small pocketknife and showed him how to use it. (I had one when I was his age, why not?) And for the next few days he was cutting and whittling and poking everything in sight. All boy.
He's bugbitten, tanned, scratched, scarred, bleached a bit in the hair and snaggle toothed. Yes, he lost a tooth while on Vacation. His Cousin M knocked it out while they were roughhousing, and was apparently shocked at this until Stitch began bouncing around in relief that it was finally gone. We showed her the new tooth right behind the old, and then she was then alarmed that this was in her near future. (She's 4.)
We only had one scare during the entire trip. Stitch and Cousin M were tearing around the front yard at Grandpa's, when he began screaming "OW! OW! OW!" and collapsed onto the ground. He'd been running downhill, and I feared a sprain or a break, but when he kicked off his shoe and a little wasp looking thing fell out, I breathed a sigh of relief. He waggled his foot and said it hurt like a needle prick. Just stung. I picked out the stinger, and after an ice pack and some watermelon, and all was forgotten.
He's been voicing his desire to return to school, and as I was washing him down tonight for the second time (for good measure) he asked, "Remember that time the ice was so rough, the zamboni had to go over it twice?"
"Yes, I remember."
I think we're all ready for normalcy, at least as we define it. Campfires, lake swims, water guns and all that jazz is fun for awhile, but the weather is cooling. It's going to be some rough days ahead, what with Skating starting anew, the Old Theatre getting some rentals (meaning money coming in so they can pay for repair efforts and labor like me), schools starting and the Day Job getting busy. I may need three of me. But we're relaxed, refreshed, and ready to go. Tomorrow I call Coach and let her know we're back, as she said she misses him and wants him back "as soon as possible." I even brought a rink friend a fossil of her own, just like I said would.
Let's hope I remember crossovers, and Stitch remembers FS1!
He's bugbitten, tanned, scratched, scarred, bleached a bit in the hair and snaggle toothed. Yes, he lost a tooth while on Vacation. His Cousin M knocked it out while they were roughhousing, and was apparently shocked at this until Stitch began bouncing around in relief that it was finally gone. We showed her the new tooth right behind the old, and then she was then alarmed that this was in her near future. (She's 4.)
We only had one scare during the entire trip. Stitch and Cousin M were tearing around the front yard at Grandpa's, when he began screaming "OW! OW! OW!" and collapsed onto the ground. He'd been running downhill, and I feared a sprain or a break, but when he kicked off his shoe and a little wasp looking thing fell out, I breathed a sigh of relief. He waggled his foot and said it hurt like a needle prick. Just stung. I picked out the stinger, and after an ice pack and some watermelon, and all was forgotten.
He's been voicing his desire to return to school, and as I was washing him down tonight for the second time (for good measure) he asked, "Remember that time the ice was so rough, the zamboni had to go over it twice?"
"Yes, I remember."
I think we're all ready for normalcy, at least as we define it. Campfires, lake swims, water guns and all that jazz is fun for awhile, but the weather is cooling. It's going to be some rough days ahead, what with Skating starting anew, the Old Theatre getting some rentals (meaning money coming in so they can pay for repair efforts and labor like me), schools starting and the Day Job getting busy. I may need three of me. But we're relaxed, refreshed, and ready to go. Tomorrow I call Coach and let her know we're back, as she said she misses him and wants him back "as soon as possible." I even brought a rink friend a fossil of her own, just like I said would.
Let's hope I remember crossovers, and Stitch remembers FS1!
Friday, August 12, 2011
On Vacation - BRB
I'm leaving this evening, so this Blog will be quiet for awhile.
There's Internets at the local Cafe and at my MIL's place, so I may be able to join Skatemoms on Sunday.
Stitch got the third grade teacher he wanted, and when we told him the cheer from the phone could be heard across the room. "He has real desks!" was Stitch's reasoning for wanting this guy. That and the other third grade teacher hands out donuts that are "too small." School is just two weeks away, so let's enjoy these last days of summer. I don't know if anyone's noticed, but the mornings have a cool snap to them when it's early.
See ya'll around the Campfire.
There's Internets at the local Cafe and at my MIL's place, so I may be able to join Skatemoms on Sunday.
Stitch got the third grade teacher he wanted, and when we told him the cheer from the phone could be heard across the room. "He has real desks!" was Stitch's reasoning for wanting this guy. That and the other third grade teacher hands out donuts that are "too small." School is just two weeks away, so let's enjoy these last days of summer. I don't know if anyone's noticed, but the mornings have a cool snap to them when it's early.
See ya'll around the Campfire.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Summer Blues
Stitch leaves tomorrow. He's gone for two weeks, back for three days, then gone again for three weeks. The bags are all packed and summer seems suddenly really long.
I've made plans, of course. My goals are to clean out the apartment, top to bottom. Clean out closets, donating or selling what we can, getting to tough things like behind the oven and fridge, and the Pit that is Stitch's room. I'm going to help my friend at his theatre, cleaning out there and doing what work can be done. And I'm going to learn forward crossovers. I'm halfway there, I just lack the confidence to hold that outside edge for more than two seconds. Give me time, I'll get there. And not cooking, don't forget the Not Cooking part.
Stitch has orders to read for a half hour a day, do multiplication and other math, and do off-ice exercises. Grandma says she will take him to the ice rink when she can, and he has his skates and skating book which has his warmup routine.
But really, I'm facing many long weeks of what life was like before I had a kid. I don't know what I did. I'm thinking of heading to some of the Ethnic areas of town, which I've taken Stitch to before but always had to leave early as he was tired or something. I'm going to try new foods, do some sewing, maybe attempt some spandex patterns from that new sewing pattern website. I'm thinking two pairs of skating pants for practice, two practice shirts and we can do costumes as we go next year. Just stuff that's hard to do when Stitch is around....
...
Is it too obvious I'm going to miss him?
Coach left me a message with the final bill for the year and saying she couldn't wait to have him back. Me, neither, Coach. I've never been more anxious for the start of school, and I'm thinking that maybe buying the supplies now might make the time go by faster. The fact that the notebooks and glue sticks are already out gives me hope. I'll be trolling the Rink for word on when I can get him registered for FS2 classes, and I'm thinking of the whole Saturday Shebang Package. He needs dance. I've put it off too long already. And I can't forget how much he misses School.
It's going to be okay. Pretty soon I'll be in the thick of September, whining again that I have to get up early or stay up late or drive to that crazy rink or deal with Nutso.
Netflix did just put all the Star Trek series on streaming...
I've made plans, of course. My goals are to clean out the apartment, top to bottom. Clean out closets, donating or selling what we can, getting to tough things like behind the oven and fridge, and the Pit that is Stitch's room. I'm going to help my friend at his theatre, cleaning out there and doing what work can be done. And I'm going to learn forward crossovers. I'm halfway there, I just lack the confidence to hold that outside edge for more than two seconds. Give me time, I'll get there. And not cooking, don't forget the Not Cooking part.
Stitch has orders to read for a half hour a day, do multiplication and other math, and do off-ice exercises. Grandma says she will take him to the ice rink when she can, and he has his skates and skating book which has his warmup routine.
But really, I'm facing many long weeks of what life was like before I had a kid. I don't know what I did. I'm thinking of heading to some of the Ethnic areas of town, which I've taken Stitch to before but always had to leave early as he was tired or something. I'm going to try new foods, do some sewing, maybe attempt some spandex patterns from that new sewing pattern website. I'm thinking two pairs of skating pants for practice, two practice shirts and we can do costumes as we go next year. Just stuff that's hard to do when Stitch is around....
...
Is it too obvious I'm going to miss him?
Coach left me a message with the final bill for the year and saying she couldn't wait to have him back. Me, neither, Coach. I've never been more anxious for the start of school, and I'm thinking that maybe buying the supplies now might make the time go by faster. The fact that the notebooks and glue sticks are already out gives me hope. I'll be trolling the Rink for word on when I can get him registered for FS2 classes, and I'm thinking of the whole Saturday Shebang Package. He needs dance. I've put it off too long already. And I can't forget how much he misses School.
It's going to be okay. Pretty soon I'll be in the thick of September, whining again that I have to get up early or stay up late or drive to that crazy rink or deal with Nutso.
Netflix did just put all the Star Trek series on streaming...
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Super Saturday
Yesterday was my first glimpse that what we're doing isn't exactly normal. I was sitting up in the stands, watching Stitch blow off the warm up coaches (typical), shivering and anticipating the end of the skating day. He'd started out with a lesson with Coach, followed by 45 minutes of Practice Ice across town, now Group Lesson and then we had big plans.
Skate Dad, with two kids in the program (one of which went pretty far in Ice Dance recently) came up and stood next to me. "Hey, how's your little guy?"
"He's down there. He's doing okay. How's the Dance Team?"
"Oh, they broke up."
Wow! I skooched over and had him sit next to me. Details, please! He kind of shook his head as he gave me the sorry details of the firing of a coach, the hiring of a new coach, planning a new training schedule and then the mom of the partner calling the whole thing off three days later. "Did she give any reason at all?"
"Nope, they just said they were done."
Just like that. "That's too bad, they looked so good together."
"We kind of knew things were going downhill. You can tell."
"What about the other one, how's he doing?"
"He's down there in Freestyle One. He didn't pass out of it last time, which is probably good. He can't get that move. But when they spend half the class doing warmups and just a half hour doing the lesson, it's almost impossible."
"Does he take privates?"
"No. But at these levels, you kind of have to."
"Maybe you should think about it."
"Yeah, but he's only seven. My wife doesn't want to push him like that."
I was shivering more now.
"What about Stitch? Does he do privates?"
"Yeah. With Coach," I pointed. "He does so much better in Privates."
"Oh."
At that point the lesson was about done, Stitch was done with a capital "D" and we said our goodbyes. I felt weird. Why not push a kid a little, even though they're seven? They've got to grow up sometime. I didn't think I had been doing anything strange, tossing Stitch in privates, despite his age.
I also felt bad for the Coach who had lost a team. Way back when, had I known what I do now, I would have asked this one to take Stitch. Now that he's got a solid thing going with Coach Y, it's hard to go back, but I know I've got a backup in mind if I need it. The whole conversation was an indicator of just how fragile skating can be.
I collected Stitch, who was audibly complaining, and talked to Coach briefly about his lack of focus during Group Lessons. I had to cut him a little slack, though, he knew where we were going next. Coach wasn't going to care, so I just had to let it go and say he'd do better next week. She said there were buckets of ice for next week, so we scheduled a put-in lesson. It's nice, just focusing on the skills now and not worrying about a new program. The Waltz Jumps are looking more and more solid; I'd watched Stitch do three in a row with the fancy turns and everything that morning. Even Ms V is liking this little break. (Which they ended up taking due to schedule issues.)
We left quickly, hit the store for some last minute stuff, dashed home, changed clothes and back out the door for the Comic Convention. Two of my friends are hard-core fans, and they stay with us over the weekend to save money on a hotel room. It's great, and this is the first time Stitch has been around for it. (He's usually been shipped off to a grandparent's because he was too young.) But now I felt he was mature enough, so I dressed him up as one of our favorite video game characters, gave him his own spending money, and off we went. I told him that we always order Thai (he loves Thai) we always stay up late and we always laugh a lot.
Sure enough, we ran into my Friends and had a blast wandering the aisles, brushing into Stormtroopers and Cosplayers, Stitch getting his picture taken (they ask, it's protocol to ask before taking a picture) and loading up on Simpson's, Looney Tunes and he even picked up an old book of Casper comics. I bought him a graphic novel of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, which the artist was kind enough to sketch in and sign for him (you can't say I don't try.)
But the highlight was meeting his favorite Saturday night TV personality, live and in person. Yes, the guy who hosts the show we watch every Saturday night after skating, he was there. "He's REAL?" Stitch didn't believe me.
"He's right there!" I pointed.
We waited in a pretty decent line, and when we got up to the table I had to lift Stitch up since he was so short. "I'm your biggest fan!" Stitch said, the moment he was at eye level with his favorite TV persona.
TV guy laughed and signed a card for him. We posed for pictures and I said, "We watch every Saturday, but he usually passes out halfway through."
"So do I," said TV Persona.
Laughs all around. A good day. We came home, ordered buckets of Thai, ate ourselves sick, drank beer (not Stitch), and Stitch was remarkably conversational, funny and mature with my friends. We watched the Traditional Saturday Night show, as Friends had never heard of this guy and didn't know what the hullaballoo was about.
This morning we played classic video games and ate pancakes, with Stitch learning all the horrible traps we'd learned when we were his age. And again, he was witty and well-behaved. He stepped up to the occasion and I was proud of him. Every time I've held the bar high, he's risen to it. In this instance, it was: Behave well with my friends, and you can stick around for next time. The past instance was the 3 Turns and the January Comp, but that was more Coach than me.
One of the artists at the show told him, "You've got a pretty cool mom if she lets you come to something like this."
Well, yes. I am pretty cool, but he can handle it. (Sure, there were a lot of things there that were too Adult for him, but he's seen stuff like that. I didn't slam the Magritte book shut just because it has boobies.) I have to think the skating is the same way. Challenge him, and he steps up. Assume he can't, for whatever reason, and he never will.
Skate Dad, with two kids in the program (one of which went pretty far in Ice Dance recently) came up and stood next to me. "Hey, how's your little guy?"
"He's down there. He's doing okay. How's the Dance Team?"
"Oh, they broke up."
Wow! I skooched over and had him sit next to me. Details, please! He kind of shook his head as he gave me the sorry details of the firing of a coach, the hiring of a new coach, planning a new training schedule and then the mom of the partner calling the whole thing off three days later. "Did she give any reason at all?"
"Nope, they just said they were done."
Just like that. "That's too bad, they looked so good together."
"We kind of knew things were going downhill. You can tell."
"What about the other one, how's he doing?"
"He's down there in Freestyle One. He didn't pass out of it last time, which is probably good. He can't get that move. But when they spend half the class doing warmups and just a half hour doing the lesson, it's almost impossible."
"Does he take privates?"
"No. But at these levels, you kind of have to."
"Maybe you should think about it."
"Yeah, but he's only seven. My wife doesn't want to push him like that."
I was shivering more now.
"What about Stitch? Does he do privates?"
"Yeah. With Coach," I pointed. "He does so much better in Privates."
"Oh."
At that point the lesson was about done, Stitch was done with a capital "D" and we said our goodbyes. I felt weird. Why not push a kid a little, even though they're seven? They've got to grow up sometime. I didn't think I had been doing anything strange, tossing Stitch in privates, despite his age.
I also felt bad for the Coach who had lost a team. Way back when, had I known what I do now, I would have asked this one to take Stitch. Now that he's got a solid thing going with Coach Y, it's hard to go back, but I know I've got a backup in mind if I need it. The whole conversation was an indicator of just how fragile skating can be.
I collected Stitch, who was audibly complaining, and talked to Coach briefly about his lack of focus during Group Lessons. I had to cut him a little slack, though, he knew where we were going next. Coach wasn't going to care, so I just had to let it go and say he'd do better next week. She said there were buckets of ice for next week, so we scheduled a put-in lesson. It's nice, just focusing on the skills now and not worrying about a new program. The Waltz Jumps are looking more and more solid; I'd watched Stitch do three in a row with the fancy turns and everything that morning. Even Ms V is liking this little break. (Which they ended up taking due to schedule issues.)
We left quickly, hit the store for some last minute stuff, dashed home, changed clothes and back out the door for the Comic Convention. Two of my friends are hard-core fans, and they stay with us over the weekend to save money on a hotel room. It's great, and this is the first time Stitch has been around for it. (He's usually been shipped off to a grandparent's because he was too young.) But now I felt he was mature enough, so I dressed him up as one of our favorite video game characters, gave him his own spending money, and off we went. I told him that we always order Thai (he loves Thai) we always stay up late and we always laugh a lot.
Sure enough, we ran into my Friends and had a blast wandering the aisles, brushing into Stormtroopers and Cosplayers, Stitch getting his picture taken (they ask, it's protocol to ask before taking a picture) and loading up on Simpson's, Looney Tunes and he even picked up an old book of Casper comics. I bought him a graphic novel of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, which the artist was kind enough to sketch in and sign for him (you can't say I don't try.)
But the highlight was meeting his favorite Saturday night TV personality, live and in person. Yes, the guy who hosts the show we watch every Saturday night after skating, he was there. "He's REAL?" Stitch didn't believe me.
"He's right there!" I pointed.
We waited in a pretty decent line, and when we got up to the table I had to lift Stitch up since he was so short. "I'm your biggest fan!" Stitch said, the moment he was at eye level with his favorite TV persona.
TV guy laughed and signed a card for him. We posed for pictures and I said, "We watch every Saturday, but he usually passes out halfway through."
"So do I," said TV Persona.
Laughs all around. A good day. We came home, ordered buckets of Thai, ate ourselves sick, drank beer (not Stitch), and Stitch was remarkably conversational, funny and mature with my friends. We watched the Traditional Saturday Night show, as Friends had never heard of this guy and didn't know what the hullaballoo was about.
This morning we played classic video games and ate pancakes, with Stitch learning all the horrible traps we'd learned when we were his age. And again, he was witty and well-behaved. He stepped up to the occasion and I was proud of him. Every time I've held the bar high, he's risen to it. In this instance, it was: Behave well with my friends, and you can stick around for next time. The past instance was the 3 Turns and the January Comp, but that was more Coach than me.
One of the artists at the show told him, "You've got a pretty cool mom if she lets you come to something like this."
Well, yes. I am pretty cool, but he can handle it. (Sure, there were a lot of things there that were too Adult for him, but he's seen stuff like that. I didn't slam the Magritte book shut just because it has boobies.) I have to think the skating is the same way. Challenge him, and he steps up. Assume he can't, for whatever reason, and he never will.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Stitch's Goldfish are Sick
In other news, Stitch's two goldfish are on Deathwatch. Yes, both of them. These guys have been around for two years, and on Tuesday I noticed them looking a little sluggish and slimy. I put a little antibiotic in the water, but I'm guessing I was too late. Little Gold is visibly struggling, and Silver Gold (my favorite) is swimming sideways. I give them another 24 hours. That means we may be having fish funerary rites the day before the Comp.
We've done this before with Goldie, the original goldfish, and with Mini Gold, the goldfish his K-Garden teacher gave him. It looks like the same bacterial infection. I've warned him that his fish are sick, and there's not much to be done for a sick fish.
Hopefully this won't throw him too much. We've been over Death as a part of living, and Stitch has even expressed interest in exhuming Goldie to see the bones. I said we could visit a museum if he wanted to see bones. Honestly, I'd rather it happen Saturday than come home Sunday to dead fish.
Yes, the hidden life of a Skating Parent is full of silent logistics that Coaches probably never even consider. There is certainly no "Dead Pet" provision in the Basic Skills Competition Rulebook.
**Update: I called home, Little Gold has passed. Stitch is still at school, so we will have a small funeral tonight.**
We've done this before with Goldie, the original goldfish, and with Mini Gold, the goldfish his K-Garden teacher gave him. It looks like the same bacterial infection. I've warned him that his fish are sick, and there's not much to be done for a sick fish.
Hopefully this won't throw him too much. We've been over Death as a part of living, and Stitch has even expressed interest in exhuming Goldie to see the bones. I said we could visit a museum if he wanted to see bones. Honestly, I'd rather it happen Saturday than come home Sunday to dead fish.
Yes, the hidden life of a Skating Parent is full of silent logistics that Coaches probably never even consider. There is certainly no "Dead Pet" provision in the Basic Skills Competition Rulebook.
**Update: I called home, Little Gold has passed. Stitch is still at school, so we will have a small funeral tonight.**
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Happy New Year
Last night I was sitting with Stitch and playing with Legos when I remembered some contraband in the high cabinet above the fridge. I beckoned Stitch to put on his shoes and coat, and come with me to "take down the recycling." I shoved a nondescript white bag and a box of matches in his hands, I grabbed the bottles and other crap, and down we went into the gangway. We lit old Firework Tanks until we heard sirens and raced back upstairs, laughing. Once the commotion died down, we went down again, this time with the old "party poppers" I bought a case of one year for some reason. I still have four tanks.
We all made it to midnight, playing rounds of dominoes and Scrabble. Stitch is still learning the art of Scrabble, so we play without points for now. And I watched in extreme pleasure as Stitch lost to his Dad with humor and grace. We've certainly come a long way.
Had anyone told me last New Year that Stitch would be on a path to becoming a competitive figure skater, I would have laughed my ass off. Stitch couldn't make it through a game of Connect Four without throwing down the pieces and storming off at the first indication of loss. Stitch would wail and cry at papercuts. He'd cringe in the shadow of the high jungle gyms at the playground. If someone made a snotty remark, he'd want to go home, and he'd wallow in his sadness for days. All his friends had neat things that were unique to them. Stitch, well, Stitch had no niche. And he knew it. He watched his friends do their swimming, their soccer, their baseball, and when I asked him if he would like to try, he always said a sad no. Perhaps it's for the best, I thought. Things like determination, courage, and competitiveness were just not things I saw in my son. I knew he was smart, I knew he had some potential, but I didn't know of any way to get him out of his self-imposed shell.
All of this changed. It's like night and day.
Now, when he loses, he sets his lip and tries again. When he's hurt, he brushes it off. When someone makes a snarky comment, he rolls his eyes and walks away. He's at the top of those scary jungle gyms. And when things aren't going his way and he's had enough, I can see those tears at the edges of his eyes and that firm look that says he's trying not to let them fall. (This is actually kind of sad.) Stitch has come 180 since last year, and it all started in March with that first Pre-Alpha skating lesson, when he fell and got back up.
Stitch isn't just on his way to being a great skater, he's on his way to owning himself as a whole person. This is what I care about, not the medals. Stitch isn't afraid anymore to show off his knowledge of science in school, he's not shy about his quirky sense of humor, he's.... he's just... grown.
To say I'm proud of Stitch is a gross understatement. I want to hold him aloft a la Rafiki in the Lion King, "Isn't he the coolest kid ever??" All this means more to me than any medal, anywhere.
I do consider what will happen if/when he decides to stop skating. It's become such a facet of our lives that we'll have a gap for awhile. I'll be fine, just give me something shiny to play with. (Swarovski Rivolis are a sure win. I like the green/pink foilbacks.)What matters to me is that Stitch has gotten so much out of it in such a short time.
The family is convinced that he is the next Evan. I don't care about any of that, really. Would it be cool? Sure, but what's really important is that Stitch learns this most important character lesson:
I made a resolution last night. I can fund the skating by selling boy's skatewear. Two or three shirts a month will be plenty to cover it at the moment, and the rest will go into savings. I'm getting my sewing machine today, the nice new high-test one, putting the word out and going on My Skating Mall. As Prepschool, Richie Rich and now Gordon are certain to be competing, then that's a solid customer base for a PreStyle skater. I've also decided to switch from beadweaving to bead embroidery. Everyone and their dog can do a right angle weave (but I have to say that I do a killer cubical right angle weave), and as such I can't do much with the jewelry. But I love shiny things, and skaters love shiny things, so $10 per hour for bead embroidery work. Includes design. (I am partial to Native American.)
Happy New Year, Skating Universe.
We all made it to midnight, playing rounds of dominoes and Scrabble. Stitch is still learning the art of Scrabble, so we play without points for now. And I watched in extreme pleasure as Stitch lost to his Dad with humor and grace. We've certainly come a long way.
Had anyone told me last New Year that Stitch would be on a path to becoming a competitive figure skater, I would have laughed my ass off. Stitch couldn't make it through a game of Connect Four without throwing down the pieces and storming off at the first indication of loss. Stitch would wail and cry at papercuts. He'd cringe in the shadow of the high jungle gyms at the playground. If someone made a snotty remark, he'd want to go home, and he'd wallow in his sadness for days. All his friends had neat things that were unique to them. Stitch, well, Stitch had no niche. And he knew it. He watched his friends do their swimming, their soccer, their baseball, and when I asked him if he would like to try, he always said a sad no. Perhaps it's for the best, I thought. Things like determination, courage, and competitiveness were just not things I saw in my son. I knew he was smart, I knew he had some potential, but I didn't know of any way to get him out of his self-imposed shell.
All of this changed. It's like night and day.
Now, when he loses, he sets his lip and tries again. When he's hurt, he brushes it off. When someone makes a snarky comment, he rolls his eyes and walks away. He's at the top of those scary jungle gyms. And when things aren't going his way and he's had enough, I can see those tears at the edges of his eyes and that firm look that says he's trying not to let them fall. (This is actually kind of sad.) Stitch has come 180 since last year, and it all started in March with that first Pre-Alpha skating lesson, when he fell and got back up.
Stitch isn't just on his way to being a great skater, he's on his way to owning himself as a whole person. This is what I care about, not the medals. Stitch isn't afraid anymore to show off his knowledge of science in school, he's not shy about his quirky sense of humor, he's.... he's just... grown.
To say I'm proud of Stitch is a gross understatement. I want to hold him aloft a la Rafiki in the Lion King, "Isn't he the coolest kid ever??" All this means more to me than any medal, anywhere.
I do consider what will happen if/when he decides to stop skating. It's become such a facet of our lives that we'll have a gap for awhile. I'll be fine, just give me something shiny to play with. (Swarovski Rivolis are a sure win. I like the green/pink foilbacks.)What matters to me is that Stitch has gotten so much out of it in such a short time.
The family is convinced that he is the next Evan. I don't care about any of that, really. Would it be cool? Sure, but what's really important is that Stitch learns this most important character lesson:
I made a resolution last night. I can fund the skating by selling boy's skatewear. Two or three shirts a month will be plenty to cover it at the moment, and the rest will go into savings. I'm getting my sewing machine today, the nice new high-test one, putting the word out and going on My Skating Mall. As Prepschool, Richie Rich and now Gordon are certain to be competing, then that's a solid customer base for a PreStyle skater. I've also decided to switch from beadweaving to bead embroidery. Everyone and their dog can do a right angle weave (but I have to say that I do a killer cubical right angle weave), and as such I can't do much with the jewelry. But I love shiny things, and skaters love shiny things, so $10 per hour for bead embroidery work. Includes design. (I am partial to Native American.)
Happy New Year, Skating Universe.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Stitch's Christmas
Stitch had been begging for his own laptop for months. Lately, it's become a pain to find him on mine or Dad's laptops, and forcibly removing him. Dad thought about this, and with a cheap new hard drive, rehabbed one of the old Laptops and gave it to Stitch. Stitch was thrilled beyond words. Stitch also got: A Hexapod Monster, a build-it-yourself robot kit. A Triops set; they're like Sea Monkeys but bigger and akin to prehistoric shrimp. Break your own Geodes. Dad and Stitch can spend the week building the Titan Tanks; wirelessly remote controlled tanks that fire infrared "bullets" at each other and reverse direction when hit. Counting Cubes; multiplication is hard. An Enviro-battery set; he can now make simple batteries with fruit and vegetables. And a few other sciency things.
I got a Wii Game that features Figure Skating, and when the announcer called "AXEL JUMP" I replied, "That was a waltz jump." Stitch looked up from his computer and said, "I can do those!" I fell on my virtual ass a lot, and my virtual coach wouldn't even look at me. It's fun!
A coworker commented that Stitch got nothing "Skating related" under the tree. I replied with a short explanation of the outlay for practice ice at two rinks, extra coaching costs, competition fees and the ongoing contributions to the New Skate Fund. He shut up real fast. Yes, when it comes to skating, nearly every day is Christmas Day.
I believe in well-rounded children, and I love that Stitch can not only do a decent bunny hop, but also build me a water detector for the kitchen floor in case the dishwasher leaks. Stitch was building a recording integrated circuit with the additions to his electronics set and asked, "Is there public skate today?"
We're off to find one of the outdoor rinks. We need to get outside for awhile anyway.
Tonight I will start cutting the new pants. FIL got us gift certificates for Best Buy, and I'm getting my own sewing machine.
I got a Wii Game that features Figure Skating, and when the announcer called "AXEL JUMP" I replied, "That was a waltz jump." Stitch looked up from his computer and said, "I can do those!" I fell on my virtual ass a lot, and my virtual coach wouldn't even look at me. It's fun!
A coworker commented that Stitch got nothing "Skating related" under the tree. I replied with a short explanation of the outlay for practice ice at two rinks, extra coaching costs, competition fees and the ongoing contributions to the New Skate Fund. He shut up real fast. Yes, when it comes to skating, nearly every day is Christmas Day.
I believe in well-rounded children, and I love that Stitch can not only do a decent bunny hop, but also build me a water detector for the kitchen floor in case the dishwasher leaks. Stitch was building a recording integrated circuit with the additions to his electronics set and asked, "Is there public skate today?"
We're off to find one of the outdoor rinks. We need to get outside for awhile anyway.
Tonight I will start cutting the new pants. FIL got us gift certificates for Best Buy, and I'm getting my own sewing machine.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Vacation Updates
Well, I'm here in the lobby of some Econolodge in Walnut, Iowa. I'm about ready to hit the road for the final eight hour leg towards home, finishing up our weeklong family vacation.
It's been fun. I've enjoyed not thinking about skating too much, but I get the feeling K is ready to get back to normal and back to the rink. He's been practicing his Waltz Jump in parking lots, hotel lobbies, and against the hot tub wall in our hotel. He hops out of the car and spins, then does jazz hands before running for the bathroom.
I've been watching my phone for a message from Coach Y, about a lesson tomorrow if possible. I told her that August is fucked and we'd best not hope for much until September. In September, I will begin worrying. (That's my rule.)
Next weekend we hit the road again for the in-laws, where K and his cousin will be riding in a parade with their grandfather. But that's a short trip, so no worries there. After that, life resumes as normal. School starts (I almost forgot about school) and then the summer is gone.
Anyhow, the breakfast in this hotel sucks balls and I'm going to look for an Ihop along the road nearby. Tonight I'll be home and planning out next week. If Dad is home, we can work in a public session on Tuesday and Thursday before we depart on Friday. Again, I'm not expecting anything but tooling around on the ice.
I need to find a car wash, the bug brigade is thick out here.
It's been fun. I've enjoyed not thinking about skating too much, but I get the feeling K is ready to get back to normal and back to the rink. He's been practicing his Waltz Jump in parking lots, hotel lobbies, and against the hot tub wall in our hotel. He hops out of the car and spins, then does jazz hands before running for the bathroom.
I've been watching my phone for a message from Coach Y, about a lesson tomorrow if possible. I told her that August is fucked and we'd best not hope for much until September. In September, I will begin worrying. (That's my rule.)
Next weekend we hit the road again for the in-laws, where K and his cousin will be riding in a parade with their grandfather. But that's a short trip, so no worries there. After that, life resumes as normal. School starts (I almost forgot about school) and then the summer is gone.
Anyhow, the breakfast in this hotel sucks balls and I'm going to look for an Ihop along the road nearby. Tonight I'll be home and planning out next week. If Dad is home, we can work in a public session on Tuesday and Thursday before we depart on Friday. Again, I'm not expecting anything but tooling around on the ice.
I need to find a car wash, the bug brigade is thick out here.
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