Do you know one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned as a parent?

Every sport has its own shoe.

Look, this did not hit me as a kid.

I was a gymnast. No shoes.

Then a tennis player. Court shoes.

But now?

You need cleats for all types of sports, but you can’t wear soccer cleats for baseball.

(Well, we probably did for a year until my husband insisted we buy proper attire.)

Basketball? Yep.

Skateboarding? Better believe it.

(And for the record, they are the most uncomfortable because there’s nothing on the sole because you’re supposed to be able to “feel” the board with your feet.)

But I have entered a whole new era of footwear.

Ice skates.

And apparently, before you can buy ice skates, you need to know exactly how big your child’s feet are.

First, the standard way: Put her foot on a piece of paper and measure it with a ruler.

Then, apparently, the more precise way: Trace her foot on the paper with a pencil, keeping the pencil exactly perpendicular to the paper the entire time.

And finally, the super high-tech method: Have her stand next to a standard 8.5-by-11-inch piece of paper, take a picture with my phone, and upload it to a virtual fit finder.

Because apparently my phone camera, a sheet of printer paper and my daughter’s feet can now determine what size ice skate she needs.

Three methods.

Two feet.

And somehow, I still wasn’t confident enough to order the skates.

Because it turns out her feet are two different sizes.

Normally, you size to the larger foot.

Except her larger foot made the skate too big.

So we had to size to the smaller foot.

Of course we did.

And we weren’t done.

Your ability determines the level of support you need — in other words, how stiff the ankle should be.

One brand has a wider toe box but is generally shorter, while the other is more narrow but usually longer.

You can buy a complete skate with boot and blade, or the boot and blade separately.

Me?

Yes, my life has been made more difficult by having to buy the boot and blade separately.

I’ve been at this for four weeks now, and at this point, if it’s what she’s comfortable in, it’s what we do.

Even if it requires two trips half an hour away to a pro shop with a should-be-retired man who has fit literally generations of skaters across the entire area.

Special shout-out to my daughter’s coach, who has endured four long weeks of educating me and managing my emotions.

And did I mention that kids outgrow shoes every six months?

So one season of sports and that’s it.

But really, that’s the thing about parenting.

You don’t just raise kids.

You accidentally become an expert in whatever random thing your kid is currently doing.

You learn the difference between soccer and baseball cleats.

You learn how to measure a foot three different ways.

You learn that your child’s feet can apparently have different sizing requirements.

You learn what makes a good skate, how stiff an ankle should be, and apparently which brands run wider or longer.

You learn the rules of sports you never played and terminology you’ve never heard.

And just when you think you’ve finally figured it out?

They pick a new activity.

So I guess the real lesson I’ve learned as a parent is this:

I have no idea what I’m doing.

But apparently, I can learn.