Padded Up!

Scott grew up playing baseball and basketball; I spent countless hours in the spring and summer playing softball. When Robby was born, we both assumed that he would naturally follow suit and play baseball. As soon as his personality began to manifest, it became clear that we were not dealing with a traditional little boy. When we asked Robby what sport he would like to try, his answer was resounding and has been consistent: ice hockey.

It has taken Robby a long time to take the ice as a hockey player. He took lessons for over a year in order to gain the requisite skills to play. Finally, after hours of hard work and practice, he was approved to enroll in hockey lessons.

Last week we finished buying the full ensemble of padding and protective equipment. Robby was delighted to finally have all of the pads that the "big kids" wear. Dressed in his prized gear, we were ready to pile into the car when he asked if he could go show Mr. Bill his hockey uniform. As soon as I agreed, Robby was out the door, fully padded with his stick in hand.

Mr. Bill seemed duly impressed and oohed and ahhed appropriately. Robby handed him his stick and asked his friend to hit him in the shins to prove that it the pads worked. Bill obliged and gently tapped his leg with the stick. Robby then asked Bill to hit him in the back, his elbows and his head. I'm sure that the rest of the neighbors would have been perplexed to see Bill hitting Robby repeatedly with a hockey stick, but in this situation, it seemed completely natural!

Thankfully Mr. Bill did not honor Robby's final request. Out of all of his newly acquired equipment, Robby's cup ranks among his favorite. I had to keep from laughing when he begged Mr. Bill to hit him in his "private area."  Bill protested, but Robby assured him that he was wearing a special protector and that everything was snug and safe. It was fun to watch Bill, who is normally so confident, squirm.  I decided to intervene in the little show-and-tell demonstration and instructed Robby to get into the car for his lessons.

It is a good thing that Robby was fully padded for last night's lesson because he was inadvertently checked into the wall by his instructor. My heart jumped and I I shrieked when I saw my little guy become squished before falling hard onto the ice. It's a good thing that I could see him smile from across the rink because I was ready to sprint onto the ice to help him up.

After standing and shaking off the fall, Robby skated over to the side of the rink to speak with me. I asked him if he was okay, and he smiled from ear to ear.  "Momom, you need to chillax. Did you see me get pushed into the wall? It was awesome! It's a good thing I'm wearing this cup. I didn't feel a thing!" I wish I could wrap him in bubble wrap, but I guess I'll have to settle for the assorted hockey pads and protective gear.  Obviously I need to work on becoming a relaxed hockey Mom.