We were going to go as a family, but Conner was being a bump on a log so we made it a girls' afternoon out instead. It was just as well because it. was. cold. And I wasn't sure how little Sean-Peter would fare on the ice nor how long he would last off of it; this isn't the "lagoon" down the street in my Kansas hometown Back In The Day when kids were free to risk their lives testing the ice, skates or no. This rink is by the Miami River, but it's not The River (which is not even close to frozen). And it's regulated-like. We even had to all go in the same direction, just like a good old-fashioned roller rink.
Within minutes of her first foray onto the ice, Olivia stated that she wanted to do a figure eight. I was all like, hmm, sorry to break it to you babe, but you really need to work on your figure one to start.
I thought that was pretty clever. But she confided to me later that she found it confusing. Good old mom cracking herself up.
After spending most of the time clutching the side -- and clutching me (not necessarily a good idea) -- she did finally successfully venture out solo without wiping out. And her goal was to make that figure eight, but I can't tell you whether it remotely resembled one or not so much was I fumbling with my point-and-shoot with frozen fingers. She was, however, most pleased with herself.
And for her first time on the ice, I must say my daughter made me proud. I loved how she got up from a fall every time with a smile on her face.
The hot cocoa was extra, but that smile is priceless.
And I just realized I totally sounded like a mastercard commercial, but it's true.