Skating With My Son

Skating with Speed Skating Son was a combination of awesome and fantastic. It was fawesome.

The poor kiddo was nervous about going. From 8:30 to 9:30 he peppered me with questions. “How fast do the adults skate? How long has everyone been skating?  What will I be doing?”

I actually had no idea what he would be doing. When E. invited him, I was a bit hesitant because I was worried he may fall and take someone out but she assured me he was more stable than many of the adults in my class, including me.

And not just on skates.

The thing is I’m sitting here wondering how the hell I got to be so lucky. Lucky that I have not one, but two, awesometastic kids — while Speed Skating Son is at the rink two or three times a week, Hockey Skating Son is up in the stands entertaining himself whether he wants to be or not — lucky that I have a family who is always there to cheer me on, lucky to have not only found speed skating but found a club filled with such great people.

Because E. inviting Speed Skating Son out to skate — kindness personified. And the people in my class last night? Also awesometastic. Everyone welcomed Speed Skating Son with open arms and after we did relays, he got a few fist bumps.  His proud grin almost brought me to my knees.

Normally in my class when we do drills, we are divided up into two groups – Fast and Faster. I am in the ‘Fast’ group.  I am also the least fast in the ‘Fast’ if you catch my drift.  Right away E. put Speed Skating Son in the ‘Faster’ group and as Randy Jackson would say “Dawg, did aw-right”.   As a mom, it was cool for me to see him out there holding his own as we did drills.

At the end of the night we did relays, which, GAAAAHHHHH. At least that’s always my reaction to it. We set up our team so Speed Skating Son would be pushing me as I came onto the rink because, you know, how often does he get a chance to push his mother around. Although him telling another person from my class “it was a bit hard because I’m heavy”?  Ya.

He was first to go in the relays and damn if he didn’t keep up with all the adults with his start.

At the end of the class he skated over, patted me on the back and told me how much I had improved. I don’t think he was lying. I have improved. I’m still a hot flailing mess but a little less of a hot flailing mess than last year.

As I tucked him into bed last night he told me skating with the Masters class was his high point of the day.

Me too.

p.s. Yes there is video and yes I will be posting it.
p.p.s.  About my third lap into a seven lap skulling drill when my legs were feeling the burn I realized that starting the 200 squat challenge this week may have been a bit of bad timing.
p.p.p.s  This week when Hockey Playing Husband asked me if I needed anything when he went to Costco I told him yes, a hot tub. He came home with bread. It was a disappointing day to say the least.

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About Sharon

Sharon DeVellis is a mother, wife and writer who can uncork a wine bottle in less than 10 seconds but buys twist-offs for emergencies. She’s currently in therapy to stop talking about herself in third person.
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7 Responses to Skating With My Son

  1. So proud of both of you! What a fabulous thing to share with your son. Even if he thinks you’re “heavy.” It’s just all that muscle really – weighs a ton.

    Oh. And, sorry about the hot tub. Men. Geesh!

  2. I love these proud momma moments. You can be proud of him and we’ll all be proud of you :)

  3. Kat says:

    What a cool memory you two just made, even if he thought you were a bit heavy for him.

  4. Awesome post – wrapped in some fabulousness. Should come with a 3-hankie warning for next time please. This hormonally charged sleep deprived mama needs to go and wipe up the tears now.

    Congratulations!!

  5. Erica (EG Cakes) says:

    This got me choked up. What a proud moment…for both of you. :)

  6. Sarah says:

    That is so awesome, Sharon! What a great passion for you two to share.

  7. Steve Kubien says:

    Not to be a know-it-all but, I told you so. This post has made my day, truly.

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