Skating after two lessons

Learn to Skate class #3 ended up getting cancelled tonight due to the instructor having a sick child. My initial reaction was "why couldn't that have happened tomorrow night when the temperature is supposed to barely break 0 degrees?" And then I remembered the world doesn't revolve around me and my desire for a toasty body temperature.

I called Jeff so he knew he didn't have to rush supper, and suggested he pack Sydney's gear anyway, so she could still do some skating during AJ's hockey practice. Here she is, demonstrating how - in less than a week - she's learned to propel herself forward like a fearless maniac.

Despite her progress, Sydney informed me  she's not ready to play hockey yet.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I don't know how to skate backwards yet."

"That doesn't matter," I told her. "Your brother played hockey for at least a year before he learned to skate backwards."

That was pretty exciting news for her. Almost as exciting as the big helmet swap. (Look for AJ wearing a new, black helmet in blog posts to come. His old helmet was so small it was squishing his glasses into the side of his skull and giving him headaches. Not a good situation. I tried to convince Jeff we should stick with a white helmet because it made AJ so much easier to pick out in the crowd and identify him in pictures. But Jeff seems to think a little thing like teams having a uniform look is important, and so I was over-ruled.) Anyway... Sydney's helmet had also grown too small, and so she was very excited to replace it with AJ's old white one. I suspect once AJ is big enough to sweat, Sydney may not be quite so willing to embrace his hand-me-downs.

And so with new helmet on and her determination set at full speed ahead, Sydney skated up and down the little rink. And she's set her sights on playing hockey next year. Not for the Esko team, she informed me. She's going to play for the Mite 1's.

Some gravitational force must have shifted the world to again revolve around me, because all I can wonder is if this means I have to work twice as many shifts in the concession stand.

P.S. Cousin Zane, if you decide to play hockey or are ready to attempt skating, Sydney has a barely-used black helmet for you to try.

Online "communication"

In first grade, I remember learning to read, tie my shoes and tell time. My son is learning to send emails and post assignments online.

How the world has changed!

AJ's teacher warned us last week that we should should expect an email - it would come from her e-mail address, but would be written by our child. Sure enough, the below message arrived Friday. 

His first email: short and sweet, and a bit confusing. What's with the ending about "going to watch TV"? Was he signing off to go watch TV? No, he explained when he got home from school, on Pajama Day, they get to watch TV. Aaahhh.

I asked AJ if he typed the email himself. Yes, he did. How long did it take? Two days.

It got me thinking. I can't remember when exactly I got email capabilities. I know I was an adult, and suspect it was through work at WDIO, because I don't think I had a home computer until after I got married. But who was the first person I emailed and what did I write about? I have no clue.

This isn't AJ's first time typing on the computer. Aside from the various online games he's played, he also posted this little gem on his class' microsite. The assignment was to first write a little bit about themself, and then type it. 

Isn't that special. If you can't decipher it, here are the three most important things my son thinks you should know about him:

My name is Alex

I am 6 years old.

I have an Iraq $1,000 dollar bill.

It's always nice to see what matters from his perspective.

Supposedly, by spring, he'll learn how to make a PowerPoint presentation. When he's done, maybe he can teach me.

Glove drama

One would think, by this point in the season, I'd be better at this. It's been at least two months since the annual letter came home from school, reminding parents to dress their children in snowpants, hats and gloves every day. And yet, once again this morning, I was running around the house, frantically searching for a matching set of gloves

Note from the school aside, it's four degrees this morning in our chilly part of the tundra. Not wearing gloves is simply not an option.I don't need a reminder to dress my child in appropriate warm weather gear. What would help is tips on how not to lose those winter accessories. Or maybe a reminder to give oneself at least ten minutes to find them before the bus rounds the corner heading for our driveway.

AJ is wearing two very different gloves to school today. And part of me hopes he gets laughed at. Maybe it will teach him a lesson.

Bad photo... but there was no time to pose... trust me, the glove on his left is green camouflage. The one on the right is black and royal blue.

Finding matching gloves this morning was not easy. I located a few single gloves in the closet, and found a lot of single gloves buried in the mess better known as my dining room table.

"AJ, where are your gloves?" I asked in desperation as he put on his hat and struggled to zip his coat.

"I don't know, I wore them at hockey last night."

"Which ones?"

"The skeleton gloves."

I checked his hockey bag. No gloves.

Then I realized, as cold as it had been last night, he probably also wore them home.  I checked his room where he'd piled his hockey gear. No gloves.

I checked the car. No gloves.

I tried the "think about what you did when you got home last night. What did you do? Where might you have set them?" routine. It didn't work.

I briefly debated sending him in my gloves, but didn't want to risk losing them. A glance at the clock revealed the bus should be rolling down our street any second. I grabbed the blue/black glove. It was for a right hand. I ran to the closet and found the camouflage glove. Could I possibly be this lucky? Yes! It was for the left hand. Victory!

"Here you are. This is what you're wearing today."

As AJ was heading out the door, Jeff - who gets to do this fun job the other four days of the week when I'm working - came wandering from the bedroom to see what the commotion had been about. Or maybe he justn't want to enjoy watching me stumble through what he seems to do much more smoothly. "AJ wore the white gloves to hockey last night," he said.

The white gloves? Of course. That's the pair I usually put on Sydney when we can't find her regular gloves. I'd found those earlier this morning and noted they seemed particularly dirty and had thrown them in the laundry.

We'll likely need to wear gloves for at least the next three months. I shall count my blessings that I only have to get my first grader ready for the bus one day a week. And now I think it's time to tackle the mess better known as my dining room.

Quick change artists

My bag is packed. I'm ready to go. For the fourth night in a row, when my day job ends, I'll be making the change from working professional to supportive hockey mom.

Let Superman have his phone booth. I don't need one. (Good thing, since they don't seem to make those anymore.) Give me a bench in a warming house, or the floor of a crowded dance studio office, and off come the high heels and on go the snow pants, mukluks, hat and gloves.

I'm trying to decide which is more difficult. I face this hectic craziness at the end of 10 hours of work. Jeff, meanwhile, gets the kids geared up for hockey or skating lessons (last night we threw in Sydney's dance class for an added challenge) and then waits for me at the side of the rink. We spend a couple seconds together for the unofficial passing of the baton (i.e. a quick kiss), and then he heads off to start a 10+ hour work shift.  

There's just never a dull moment.

Sydney is already learning to master this quick-change skill. Here she is at 7:30 yesterday morning, ready to head to preschool. It was "jersey day" for AJ's hockey team, so of course my newly skilled skater needed to wear her jersey too.

And here she is at 7:30 last night, after finishing dance class and then racing to make it to the second half of her brother's hockey game.

The picture I didn't take was of her bundled in snow pants and boots, sliding and rolling down the hill next to the rink to pass the time while AJ was on the ice. Don't slap a label on this child. She'll prove you wrong every time (Unless you call her stubborn. That's a pretty consistent trait.) She's happy to be the girlie girl, and equally proud to keep up with the boys. I love that about her! When I'm not totally frustrated by her quick shifts in attitude.

I also didn't take any new photos of AJ playing hockey, though he made a really pretty goal. Winter finally roared in around the lunch hour yesterday and by last night it was way too windy and cold to take off my gloves to use the camera.

Last night was a particular logistics challenge. Sydney's dance class ended at 6 p.m., the same time AJ's hockey game started at a rink 20 minutes away. Jeff managed to drop Sydney off for her lessons, then head with AJ for his game. I, meanwhile, left work and made it to pick up Sydney with 10 minutes to spare. We then bundled up and headed to watch AJ. Phew!

AJ has one more scrimmage tonight, and then our six-day hockey marathon comes to an end. I'm fairly certain we get the next three days off. Until AJ asks to go to the rink to skate. And next week's schedule appears to be calmer. Until a last-minute scrimmage is announced.

On a brighter note, the kids have barely watched TV this week. Who has time for something like that?

Making concessions

Working the concession stand at the ice rink is pretty close to my least favorite part of being a hockey mom. (Beat out only by watching my child play hockey in sub zero temperatures with a nearby fire ring set up to offer a slight hint of warmth, along with enough smoke to stink up my coat for the next week. That, I believe, is my least favorite part.) 

All the moms in our AJ's hockey league are expected to work at least three shifts throughout the season. And while it's better than the dads' responsibility of flooding the rink each week, it's still a miserably tedious experience. For me, it brings flashbacks to my illustrious career start at McDonalds, combined with way too much time to think about all the things I could be doing and cleaning in my own home that would be a better use of my time. To sum it up in two words, concession stand duty is long and it is boring.

But not for Sydney. 

Saturday, Sydney eagerly volunteered to join me in the small little room where we're surrounded by candy, cookies, chips, pop and other treats. I can't imagine why she wanted to spend her time there. She happily pulled up a stool, announcing, "This is my first day on the job!"

Jeff and AJ joined us part way through the shift, bringing me some needed healthy food from home. AJ immediately went out skating, because the two games he was playing in a tournament that day weren't enough for him. Sydney happily showed Daddy the "plus game" she'd been playing (i.e. pushing buttons on the calculator.)

Alas, Saturday was quite possibly the most boring day we could have picked to spend four hours in the concession stand. Pretty much every local hockey player was involved in a tournament elsewhere that day, which meant none of them were coming to skate here. We saw less than 10 people and made a whopping $11.50 in sales. In four hours.

To help pass the time, Sydney turned to song and dance. She will probably hate me someday for sharing this, but how can I resist?

S is for Sydney the Skater

Mother Nature tried to give us a break last night. With afternoon temperatures hitting the 40s, AJ's hockey coaches, who had already announced the evening's practice would be optional, cancelled it all together. But it wasn't quite enough to give us an evening off because Sydney's first Learn to Skate class went on as scheduled. 

She didn't get to use the white PVC bar she'd been hoping for, but suddenly it didn't matter. Put Sydney in a group setting with a "coach" giving instructions and she takes it seriously. Round and round the rink she skated, never questioning or complaining. Well, she did say the helmet was hurting her chin a little and the elbow pads were squeezing her arms, but that didn't stop her. And at least she didn't cry to go back inside, which several of the kids did.)

I'm proud and impressed with her progress. Within the first 15 minutes, she'd learned how to get up (one knee at a time) without help, and to "skate like a penguin" - pushing out with her skates as she went.

Her coach, who had her hands full with lots of first time skaters, quickly noticed which kids were using the bar as a crutch and challenged them to try skating without it.

What do you know? Look at her go! If she keeps this up, we may have a tough choice next year - hockey or dance class?

Miss Independent alternated between basking in our praise, and requesting I stop taking her picture. Jeff, meanwhile, alternated between watching her practice, and keeping an eye on AJ, who was skating with some big kids on the adjoining rink.

At one point, I asked Sydney if I should go get Daddy to watch her. She told me no. I reminded her that he'd be really proud of how good she was skating. Her face broke out in a grin as she changed her mind.

There's nothing like the promise of a hug to encourage her to skate the length of the rink to see Daddy.

As luck would have it, the letter of the week in Sydney's preschool class is "S". I printed out a photo of Sydney skating for her to show to her class. Good luck to the teacher today. I have a feeling Sydney will have lots of "S" stories to share.

Fun on the sidelines

As a kid, I remember sitting in the bleachers through plenty of my sister's gymnastics meets. And obviously I lived through it. Ditto for my brother's baseball and hockey games. I just don't remember them being as time intensive as what Sydney is now enduring as the younger sister of a hockey player.

Sydney has been a real trooper about coming to her brother's game and practices. Not that she has much choice. The hope of a concession stand visit is usually enough incentive to get her to grab her coat and hat and head out the door with as much as enthusiasm as her brother. (Let her change from her pink hat into her new black "ninja" hood, which you'll see in later photos, and it's even more exciting.)

At this past weekend's tournament, there was the added bonus of a playground on site.

Of course, chunks of snow/ice are also a great way to pass the time, as is any packed pile of snow that can be slid down. Sydney's made friends with many of the other players' siblings and enjoys running around with and recruiting them to join her snowball battles.

And then it's back to throwing more snow/ice. Note by mid-game, she was wearing my turquoise gloves because my white pair of gloves she'd started out in were completely soaked and frozen.

I guess I shouldn't be so worried about the unfairness of dragging her along. She's got snowballs, friends and a ninja hood on a sunny winter day, not to mention a candy-stocked concession stand. When you're four, those are all the ingredients you need for a pretty fun afternoon.

On a side note: Sydney may have set a record for the most lost/found incidents involving the same glove. She lost her new purple gloves last Thursday. I found them Saturday afternoon at the Esko warming house. She then apparently proceeded to lose them an hour later at the Duluth Heights warming house, something I discovered Sunday afternoon when I spotted it a pile on their lost and found table.