Day 25~ Falling down skating and bigger lessons. 

Skating coupleY

photo source 

Years ago while dinosaurs walked the earth I used to skate.  Skated probably 5 times a week.  The quonset arena, he sat at the skirts of town willing the locals to come and use the ice.  With my vinyl blue hockey bag slung on my back, I’d head up the ramp to the change room.  The double wood doors would creak behind me sealing out the bright sunshine from the dim foyer.

The smell of fries and rubber mats still take me back to the red rink bleachers and my dad waving to me.

There’s little to do in rural saskatchewan on a January night other than lace on skates and shoot a puck (or a ring) around.  Rink culture was embedded in those little towns.  I think the light stands all over the prairies at 5:30 pm were burning bright as beacons for all the families who drove in from the farm for practice.  When it gets up to minus 20 degrees in March we talked of spring around the corner.

The ice was REAL from November til March. 

This is where I grew up.  My prairie life address.

Last night I stepped on the (artificial) ice (said with some smugness) and felt my skating legs again.  Slowly following the young teens around and taking a turn shooting on the goalie.

We stand in a huddle and talk of focus, teamwork and effort.  There are no french fry concessions by the bleachers.  I was an athlete in my youth unaware, but these kids, they are walking and living protein, apples and balancing electrolytes.

My role as a coach is pulling from my knowledge of the game and making me turn around and offer it to those are learning.  For some of us this takes courage.  Trust in ourselves that we have wisdom to share.  And maybe we can still learn a new thing in teaching others.

So, in the middle of practice, I was role playing as a pylon in front of the net and one of the little speedy whipper-snappers skated right into me and down we both went.  The poor girl looked at me in terror that she had hurt me and I was equally concerned that I fell on her.  We got up, laughed with a pat on the helmet and I held up my goal sign arm as the team cheered and tapped their sticks.  Let me tell you, next practice I’m putting on knee and elbow pads.

This was something I volunteered for, I chose to do.  To be in the role of teacher, mentor, trainer, caregiver.  To be the one falling down and getting involved.

But sometimes life gives you no choice and suddenly there you are with a child who needs extra help in math.  You weren’t good at math.  Maybe your overly social child has gotten into issues with bullying and you are an introvert who cannot. understand. why. teens need to be so mean.

So many times in parenting we must draw on our old wisdom, our deep inside truths that we can do it.  You have been equipped with experience or the ability to ask for help.  But you must be prepared to fall and get involved.  It takes courage.

Be brave.  True connection with our teen children is made when we step in and speak honesty.  Maybe even laugh at yourself?  Don’t give perfectionism the power it craves.

Today I’m off to sharpen our skates and prepare for our weekend of games.

What’s your weekend look like?  How are you getting involved?  Do you have a falling on the ice story? 

This post is part of my 31 days of teenagers.  You can find more posts on this page and follow along as well.