So Xena started inline skating lessons a few months ago.
But this post is not about Xena's skating.
It's about mine.
Xena's skating lessons happen during the weekends next to the beach, and initially I'd arm myself with a book, or take photos and videos of her, or chit-chat with other parents to pass the time while she was in class. Viv would be away at cricket most weekends anyway.
Then one day, as I sat there, my eyes alternating between Xena in class and a (terrible) book I was reading, I asked myself, "Why am I here when I could be there?"
I knew that the minimum age for learning was 3. But was there a maximum age? The lessons looked like they were obviously catered to very young kids, with plenty of fun and games all around. In fact, the instructors do not even go by their real names, but nicknames that feature various food items! You can only imagine how much more fun and approachable a teacher would be if they asked you to call them Watermelon instead of Walter. Some of the instructors, by the way, are about half my age so it was with a beating heart that I asked if I could try it out. They were very welcoming and told me that they taught all ages.
So I went for a trial to check it out. And as soon as I got the skates and safety gear on and started skating, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be. Even though I was nervous and wobbly, I was high in the clouds. That feeling was incredible and something I still find hard to describe. Maybe it was the first time since Xena was born that I was doing something that was for myself and myself only. Maybe because at that moment, I was no longer Xena's mom. I was nobody's nothing. I was just a person trying to learn something new and fantastic.
Once you learn the basics (rolling, falling safely, etc.), there are five levels you need to pass. There are several skills/stunts in each level, and as you progress, the skills/stunts get harder and harder. However, the process is extremely rewarding. One weekend, you're staring in total awe as your instructor demonstrates something really cool, telling yourself, "Oh goodness, I'm NEVER gonna be able to do THAT!" and the next weekend you're casually doing the exact stunt while chit-chatting with your 4-year-old classmate. It's the perfect combination of awesome teachers and a very sincere student who just really wants to learn. We've all heard the phrase 'practice makes perfect' but this is the first time that I am literally seeing it work. Skills that I struggle with initially become better with practice. The difference is visible, it's measurable. Of course, it's only been a few months, and there is still lots to learn, but I am so excited that it shows. I wait for weekends, I have dreams of skating, I go through techniques in my mind whenever I can. It's like falling in love — I'm constantly thinking about it. And I get depressed on Sundays (not about Monday; I love my work) because the next skating lesson is soooo, soooooo far away.
The classes are split not by age, but by skill level. It's mostly kids, of course, and a few stray adults who turn up once in a while. It was a little strange initially when I was in level 1 and the only adult in the class. Some of the kids would turn and give strange looks to "someone's mommy who has suddenly put on skates and gear and joined the class" while others would earnestly ask if I was one of the instructors. But now, we're all friends and even the littlest ones address this 'classmate' of theirs by her first name.
Except for this one little girl who doesn't. She's not 100% comfortable with me being in the same class, and things took a turn for the worse when both of us passed level 1 on the same day.
That little girl is my kid, Xena.
"But Mama, you joined a month after I did! How could you pass level 1 on the same day as me???"
Oh boy, and here I thought I was competitive.
So I tried to explain to her that as a kid I used to roller-skate (kinda true; I did discover an abandoned pair of roller skates — the old-styled self-balancing kind — during a summer vacation at my grandparents' and that summer they became my primary mode of transport, but only from room to room and sometimes up and down the stairs), that some people already have a good sense of balance that helps (kinda true too), and that some skills are easier for adults to grasp (omg not true at all when it comes to skating), but the most important bit was that she shouldn't compete with me, or anyone else for that matter. She's coming to terms with it, but I have to keep reiterating that her only competition should be herself.
"Don't look at others. You can be inspired by them, but don't compete with them. Think of what you were last weekend. Are you better than that today? If not, work on it." I tell her. She nods. Hopefully she will take my advice. Because this advice will help her loads in adulthood.
In a way, I think this whole skating thing has been a life-altering thing for her as well. It teaches her perseverance, resilience and helps her deal with failure (some skills are really hard and can take weeks and weeks to master and you will fall, and fall, and fall again). It helps her see that age is just a number, as there are kids tinier than her who are at higher levels. And very importantly, it helps her see me as a completely separate individual and not just her mommy.
One of the other significant things that has happened is that I am learning new things about my own body. I have never been very coordinated (ask me to sing but never to dance!) or flexible, and I have a bad knee from a fracture (which actually happened 20 years ago but it was so bad that it still hurts sometimes when I skate or walk uphill on the treadmill). So all these years, I have always slightly favoured the bad knee. However, the thing with skating is that you can only pass a skill if you can demonstrate it using both legs. There are literally checkboxes marked 'left' and 'right' that the instructors will tick for each skill. So that has pushed me into pushing my bad leg a bit more than I usually do, with some very unexpected results. For some skills, I have found myself performing better with my bad leg in charge, something that has surprised even my instructors. Very interesting.
However, I remain the extremely practical person I've been, and constantly tell myself that being surrounded by kids doesn't mean I am one and that I can throw caution to the wind and go ahead and break a few bones like it's no big deal. Like the mommy of my 6-year-old classmate gently reminded me, "Old bones heal slow."
So I try my best to remind myself of my old bones when I feel a little too adventurous.
It's not easy, to be honest.
But this post is not about Xena's skating.
It's about mine.
Xena's skating lessons happen during the weekends next to the beach, and initially I'd arm myself with a book, or take photos and videos of her, or chit-chat with other parents to pass the time while she was in class. Viv would be away at cricket most weekends anyway.
Then one day, as I sat there, my eyes alternating between Xena in class and a (terrible) book I was reading, I asked myself, "Why am I here when I could be there?"
I knew that the minimum age for learning was 3. But was there a maximum age? The lessons looked like they were obviously catered to very young kids, with plenty of fun and games all around. In fact, the instructors do not even go by their real names, but nicknames that feature various food items! You can only imagine how much more fun and approachable a teacher would be if they asked you to call them Watermelon instead of Walter. Some of the instructors, by the way, are about half my age so it was with a beating heart that I asked if I could try it out. They were very welcoming and told me that they taught all ages.
So I went for a trial to check it out. And as soon as I got the skates and safety gear on and started skating, I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be. Even though I was nervous and wobbly, I was high in the clouds. That feeling was incredible and something I still find hard to describe. Maybe it was the first time since Xena was born that I was doing something that was for myself and myself only. Maybe because at that moment, I was no longer Xena's mom. I was nobody's nothing. I was just a person trying to learn something new and fantastic.
Once you learn the basics (rolling, falling safely, etc.), there are five levels you need to pass. There are several skills/stunts in each level, and as you progress, the skills/stunts get harder and harder. However, the process is extremely rewarding. One weekend, you're staring in total awe as your instructor demonstrates something really cool, telling yourself, "Oh goodness, I'm NEVER gonna be able to do THAT!" and the next weekend you're casually doing the exact stunt while chit-chatting with your 4-year-old classmate. It's the perfect combination of awesome teachers and a very sincere student who just really wants to learn. We've all heard the phrase 'practice makes perfect' but this is the first time that I am literally seeing it work. Skills that I struggle with initially become better with practice. The difference is visible, it's measurable. Of course, it's only been a few months, and there is still lots to learn, but I am so excited that it shows. I wait for weekends, I have dreams of skating, I go through techniques in my mind whenever I can. It's like falling in love — I'm constantly thinking about it. And I get depressed on Sundays (not about Monday; I love my work) because the next skating lesson is soooo, soooooo far away.
The classes are split not by age, but by skill level. It's mostly kids, of course, and a few stray adults who turn up once in a while. It was a little strange initially when I was in level 1 and the only adult in the class. Some of the kids would turn and give strange looks to "someone's mommy who has suddenly put on skates and gear and joined the class" while others would earnestly ask if I was one of the instructors. But now, we're all friends and even the littlest ones address this 'classmate' of theirs by her first name.
Except for this one little girl who doesn't. She's not 100% comfortable with me being in the same class, and things took a turn for the worse when both of us passed level 1 on the same day.
That little girl is my kid, Xena.
"But Mama, you joined a month after I did! How could you pass level 1 on the same day as me???"
Oh boy, and here I thought I was competitive.
So I tried to explain to her that as a kid I used to roller-skate (kinda true; I did discover an abandoned pair of roller skates — the old-styled self-balancing kind — during a summer vacation at my grandparents' and that summer they became my primary mode of transport, but only from room to room and sometimes up and down the stairs), that some people already have a good sense of balance that helps (kinda true too), and that some skills are easier for adults to grasp (omg not true at all when it comes to skating), but the most important bit was that she shouldn't compete with me, or anyone else for that matter. She's coming to terms with it, but I have to keep reiterating that her only competition should be herself.
"Don't look at others. You can be inspired by them, but don't compete with them. Think of what you were last weekend. Are you better than that today? If not, work on it." I tell her. She nods. Hopefully she will take my advice. Because this advice will help her loads in adulthood.
In a way, I think this whole skating thing has been a life-altering thing for her as well. It teaches her perseverance, resilience and helps her deal with failure (some skills are really hard and can take weeks and weeks to master and you will fall, and fall, and fall again). It helps her see that age is just a number, as there are kids tinier than her who are at higher levels. And very importantly, it helps her see me as a completely separate individual and not just her mommy.
One of the other significant things that has happened is that I am learning new things about my own body. I have never been very coordinated (ask me to sing but never to dance!) or flexible, and I have a bad knee from a fracture (which actually happened 20 years ago but it was so bad that it still hurts sometimes when I skate or walk uphill on the treadmill). So all these years, I have always slightly favoured the bad knee. However, the thing with skating is that you can only pass a skill if you can demonstrate it using both legs. There are literally checkboxes marked 'left' and 'right' that the instructors will tick for each skill. So that has pushed me into pushing my bad leg a bit more than I usually do, with some very unexpected results. For some skills, I have found myself performing better with my bad leg in charge, something that has surprised even my instructors. Very interesting.
However, I remain the extremely practical person I've been, and constantly tell myself that being surrounded by kids doesn't mean I am one and that I can throw caution to the wind and go ahead and break a few bones like it's no big deal. Like the mommy of my 6-year-old classmate gently reminded me, "Old bones heal slow."
So I try my best to remind myself of my old bones when I feel a little too adventurous.
It's not easy, to be honest.
My first time doing a "fish" — a basic slalom (obstacle) move
Mommy and baby out for an Urban (skating on the roads)
Stay tuned for part II of this post, where I'll introduce you to the weird and wonderful types of people I have encountered in my two months of skating lessons.
3 comments:
May I say, you're on a roll?
:)
Sorry, couldn't avoid a second comment.
".... have to keep reiterating that her only competition should be herself."
This was what I recall my parents teaching me too. Today in the US, this is one of the ideas being marketed by a celebrity conservative professor, Jordan Peterson, as life-changing wisdom.
Arun,
//May I say, you're on a roll?
Hehehe! :D I'm just rolling with it. :P
Yes, this whole competition thing is very hard to explain to kids, how it's ok to be inspired by someone who is better or even wanting to be like them, but not in a way that makes the whole process so negative.
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