Ice Skating: A Bust

I'm a little sad. I didn't get to ice skate with my son. At all. After today and after giving it one last good try, I admitted defeat and took our name off the class list and collected my refund. But you know what??? I'm still proud of Owen for sticking it out for at least two lessons. Or, rather one and a half lessons. Chris ended up pulling Owen out after only 15 minutes of the lesson last week because Owen flat-out refused to put any effort into it and instead projected everything he had into a screaming fit. And I'm even prouder of him that he realizes he has a voice, or a say in what he wants to do, or doesn't want to do (aren't all two year olds like that?). Today as we were leaving the house and on our way to the rink, he kept saying that he didn't want to go ice skating. He said, "Let's just be careful. Owen wants to stay home." He wasn't crying or anything. Nor did he fight us. We told him that we would just go to the rink and see how things unfolded. He walked into the building with us and sat down on a changing bench. I took out our skating gear and asked if he had changed his mind. He hadn't. Did he want to skate with Daddy instead? No. Ok... I put our gear back in the bag and suggested we all casually walk to the rink and the viewing room where he could watch the other skaters and maybe he'll change his mind then. It was a good effort on our part. He was happy to be a spectator for about 8 minutes and then he wanted to leave. And we did. Maybe in the fall he'll be ready for another try when the rink opens up for public skating. We got the gear. Might as well try to put it to good use. If not with Owen, then there's always Ana.