But being a good sport, we all slapped some on and hit the ice.
Being 8, X had the attempt of an 8 year old. He ran a-ways, grabbed the wall and stopped and spun around... and that's what he'd do.
A was not so lucky. He'd get a good slide going on and panic and grab the wall and wrench his little arms hard as he'd eat the ice....and that's what he'd do.
I was taking slow, painful, awkward, ankle-wrenching jerking steps, while grabbing onto the wall for my dear life.
Butch would alternate skating by one of us. Even though he could do it, he reserved the right to a) not show off and b) not tell us how. His advice? It's just like skating! I don't know how to train people!
The fantastic thing was that there was a rink full of people just like us. Not having a clue, but having a whole heck of a lot of fun. There were people on the side that were watching us and cheering us on!!
A ended up hooking up with some pre-teen girls his age. The dominant of the two girls spent an hour dragging him around, holding his hand and helping him. It was adorable!
X would alternate skating with the 3 of them, or helping mommy out.
I enjoyed every painful step of it. X would grab my hand and pull me around, while I had one hand on the wall.
"Mom! Clear your mind. Just CALM DOWN, and everything else will JUST WORK!" And we'd be off a few steps. My proudest moment was when he got me off the wall altogether and pulled me from one side to the other. We'd go a few steps holding one hand, and I'd start to wobble. He'd spin in front of me and grab both my hands in his little ones and we'd stop and he'd glare at me "You're going to MAKE ME FALL." And than we'd be off again. "C,MON on MOM. I'll help you!"