Robby has been begging to take ice skating lessons since last winter when he first discovered that it was a possibility. Although classes are offered to students as young as three, Scott and I both agreed that he should be five to participate. When I received notification that classes were forming, we didn't hesitate to sign him up.
Yesterday was Robby's inaugural ice skating lesson. He was chomping at the bit all day to "get on that ice and skate." I knew that his class was scheduled for 6:30 in the evening, so I set the timer on the microwave for 5:45 to allow for extra time because I wanted to be early (to make a good impression) and to secure his rental skates.
Knowing that we were going to be taking a lot of pictures to capture his first skating experience, I put a lot of thought into Robby's outfit. He was adorable in his little grey pants, which I carefully chose because the fabric was thin enough to breath and would provide him with a lot of movement while he was skating. He chose his favorite blue and white t-shirt because, according to him, it was lucky and would keep him from falling. At 5:45 the timer went off, we grabbed the camera and headed to the skating rink.
The skate complex was crowded when we arrived at 6:10. Scott was tasked with putting on the skates while I tried to figure out where his class would be meeting. An employee simply pointed to the center of the ice, where 6 little kids were marching in place on their skates. That's when I realized that his class started at 6:00, not 6:30. We were late. So much for first impressions.
We hurriedly pushed Robby's feet into the skates. We ended up putting them on the wrong feet and had to start over. An attendant had to come and help us lace the skates because neither Scott nor myself could figure it out. We were embarrassed and felt inadequate.
It was only after Robby was ushered into his class that Scott and I realized that we were cold. I don't understand how we didn't expect that an ice skating complex would be cold. All of the other kids were dressed in snow pants, hats, gloves and heavy coats. They had helmets. The class description didn't say anything about needing a helmet! Scott quickly ran out to the car to retrieve Robby's spring jacket- the only coat we had with us. Instead of a helmet he had the hood of his coat.
As for the pants that I carefully chose? The thin, breathable fabric simply acted as a conduit between the ice and Robby's bum. He began to shiver every time he was instructed to sit down on the ice. His little rear was soaked by the time the class ended.
Between being late, putting the skates on the wrong feet, and dressing him for a spring afternoon in the park instead of skating on ice, I have accepted that I not going to be getting the "Mother of the Year" award. My first impression with his skating instructors is that of a ditz instead of a confident woman. I hate appearing incompetent!
In spite of my mistakes, Robby had a great time. He was proud that he didn't fall, and when he got into the car, proclaimed that "ice is slippery". He then proceeded to ask for a blanket and for the car heat to be cranked up because he was freezing. The poor little guy shivered until we put him in a warm bath.
Next Monday he will be dressed warmly, will be on time, and his skates will be put on the correct feet. I have an uphill battle to prove that I am not a flake, but I'm up to the challenge! Lesson learned-- ice skating rinks are cold.