Who Says Ice Skating is Not a Full Contact Sport?

Some of this family likes to ice skate. Some of this family wouldn't be caught dead on ice skates. Some of this family is indifferent.

Sweet Pea and I enjoy it. I'm not an expert by any means but I can (almost always) make it around the rink without falling and like to think I do so with at least a small amount of grace.And Sweet Pea took figure skating lessons for about a year and she can whiz around the rink like a pro and has a ball whenever we go.

Snickers is indifferent. If he feels like it on a given day, he'll go. If not, he won't. As easy as that.

Doodlebug is also indifferent. He likes the idea of skating. But even more, he likes being anywhere Mommy is. So if Mommy goes to the skating rink, Doodlebug wants to come along. And if he has to put on a pair of skates and skid wildly across the ice to do so, he's all for it. At least for a little while.

And hubby? He wouldn't be caught dead on a pair of skates! Too cold. Too slippery. Too much exercise. Not enough TVs. Not enough computers. (But we love him despite that. His strengths lie elsewhere).

So we went skating. (All but hubby who chose to remain at home in his warm chair in front of the TV.) I helped Sweet Pea with her skates and she was off and skating while I worked on the boys and my own skates. Of course, as with everything else, there was an argument as to who got to have their skates put on first. We agreed to alternate. I laced up one of Snicker's skates, then one of Doodlebug's, then Snicker's, then Doodlebug's. All with a minimal amount of yelling, screaming, slapping, pushing, shoving and name-calling. Who says ice skating is not a full contact sport?

Then it was time for me to put mine on as the boys to tottered precariously around in cirles, ankles turning, bodies flopping, skate blades slashing at the air. I worked as quickly as possible, hoping to be done before the flying skate blades caused blood shed.

Snickers got on the ice first and took off. Not exactly like a pro, but he slowly and carefully started making his way around the rink. He was doing awesome! Sweet Pea whizzed past.

I lifted Doodlebug over the step and onto the ice. I grabbed both hands (which he insists upon), stood behind him and we set off. Sweet Pea lapped us. We got a quarter of the way around and Doodlebug started complaining that I was going too slow. And I thought I was following his lead. Sweet Pea lapped us again. We sped up. We got about half way around the rink and Doodlebug was ready for a rest. (I'm the one behind him, slightly bent over so I can reach his hands. I'm the one with my legs splayed awkwardly to the sides to keep from kicking his skates with mine. And WHO needs a rest?) Sweet Pea lapped us again. Snickers lapped us too.

So we sat and rested while he complained about his ankle hurting. I adjusted his sock and tightened his skates. Eventually, we got back on the ice. Sweet Pea lapped us again. When we finally got all the way around and back to the door we came in he insisted on getting off the ice.

"I am NOT going back out there!" And he was serious. There was no way I was getting him back on the ice. OK, fine. I don't think I can skate bent over like that for many more laps anyway.

Meanwhile, Sweet Pea continued to skate wildly around and around the rink, whizzing by like a speeding jet. And slightly slower, but with a determined look in his eye, Snickers also whizzed by, more like a propeller plane than a jet, but speedy nonetheless.

For the next half hour, Doodlebug and I sat in the bleachers and watched. He hardly complained at all. (Except about the lack of snacks in his hands.)

Sometime I'll have to tell you about the very first time I took Sweet Pea and Snickers skating. They were both literally hanging off of me, feet flailing on the ice, skates knocking into mine, bodies smashing into my legs. And even though I had not skated in 15 years. 15 YEARS! I somehow, against all odds, managed to Not Fall Down! I don't know how I managed it, but I did. Luck was with me!


Quack!