The Ice Princess

Growing up, I always wanted to be an ice skater.  

I was pretty good at wearing leotards, I knew how to spin around (on the kitchen floor in my socks, at least), and with my gymnastics background I was convinced I'd be in the ice skating Olympics in a year, max.  So naturally I was thrilled the day an elementary school friend invited me to an ice skating party.  I was positive I'd be throwing triple axles before the cake and ice cream was served.  The day of the party, I took one step out onto the ice and before I knew what had happened, I was on my back, feet straight up in the air, arms spread, choking on my gum.  

And that was how my ice skating career ended. 

But you know how some parents like to live their lives through their kids?  (If you answered no, go watch "Toddlers and Tiaras" or "Dance Moms," and you'll see.) 

Well, I'm sorry to say I might be one of them.  

Luke and I took the girls ice skating since Luke had an entire day off of work and we had a buy-one-get-one-free-coupon.  

 

Who could refuse that?

Well, Aubrey could. 

The first 5 minutes of ice skating were probably the worst 5 minutes of Aubrey's young life.  She clung to the side rail like a whore to crack and I was seriously regretting the whole thing.  At one point she loudly sobbed, "Ice. skating. is. NOT. FUN!!!"  She refused to let go of our legs and it took us approximately seventeen minutes to complete one lap around the rink.

 Brooklyn, on the other hand, took to the ice like a full-grown penguin.  She was slipping and sliding and having the time of her life.

She "ate it" an estimated fifty seven times.

(and didn't seem to mind once.)

 I spent the majority of my time hiding behind my camera and praying with all my might that I wouldn't break my tailbone or chip a tooth.  I loved watching the girls (and one particular boy), and found myself giggling non-stop.  At one point I was laughing so uncontrollably that a stranger had to help poor Aubrey up because I was seriously incapacitated. 

 

Aubrey eventually warmed up to the ice and spent the majority of our outing looking like a baby chick just learning how to walk.  

Darling; but wobbly.

And while I'm in the comparing-my-children-to-birds-mode, Brooklyn looked like a swan.  By the time I had convinced Aubrey to let go of my leg, Brooklyn was skating figure eights around us. 

And while that delighted some of us, it also infuriated one of us.  

Daughter #2 could. not. handle. it.

 While Aubrey is the epitome of sweet, she is also competitive like no one's business.

She was having fun until she realized that Brooklyn was out-skating her.  Then she went into denial mode (claiming she was faster than Brooklyn), then excuse mode (noting Brooklyn's older and bigger), then panic mode ("is she really faster than me - or are you just kidding?"), and then full-blown melt-down mode.  

(This picture is the perfect summary of the day.  Brooklyn smiling and skating along... Aubrey looking like she wants to stab her in the back with her ice skate.)  

She left the ice kicking and screaming and yelling that she was "just as fast as Brooklyn; but she's faster cause she's older!!"

And that is how her ice skating career ended.