Category Archives: Parenting

Posts related to lessons learned in the uncharted waters called parenting

There Was a Time

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There was a time in your life that you were totally dependent on me for nourishment and shelter.

There was a time in your life that you stopped crying and burst into a smile the minute I walked into your room.

There was a time in your life that you wanted nothing more than to sit in my lap and read a Sesame Street book.

There was a time in your life when you wanted to marry Cinderella and we were all going to live together in her castle.

There was a time in your life when you needed me to tie your shoes…and then you didn’t.

There was a time in your life where you were the proudest big brother ever and introduced everyone to your baby.

There was a time in your life when your nickname was “Bugs” and I can’t remember why.

There was a time in your life when I willingly took you to see a Pokemon movie.

There was a time in your life when we spent forever culling through the toy store shelves to find a Lego model that you hadn’t yet built.

This is the time in your life, sitting across the kitchen table, still sweaty from football practice wearing a ripped muscle T-shirt and chugging chocolate milk, when I am in awe of the young man you have become.

Sleeping Boy

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Mid-morning on what promised to be a very hot day in Baltimore, MD.  I’m standing in the shade outside a dormitory on a college campus where my son has just finished three grueling days of a lacrosse tournament.  I’m waiting for him to pack, clean up the room and get the “all clear” that he can leave without any fines for damage or lost dorm keys so that we can begin the 8+ hour return trip to the equally hot Midwest.  I am not looking forward to the drive.  My only consolation is that he’s old enough that he can take a turn at the wheel.  And my only hope is that he took a shower before packing his gear.

At last he appears on the stairs lugging pillowcases stuffed with dirty laundry.  Fortunately his hair is shower damp so it promises to be a pleasant journey in that regard.  He folds himself into the front seat of what previously felt like a good-sized SUV.  We haven’t even left the campus and he’s asleep.

Once I get us headed West, I happen a glance over at him, head cradled on a Minnie Mouse “pillow pet”, knees touching the dashboard, brown fuzz on his cheeks and upper lip (apparently he didn’t pack a razor).

In a flash I’m taken back fifteen years.  I’m watching him in the rear view mirror.  Eighteen months old slumped in his throne of a car seat wearing scuffed boots and overalls.  Hair damp.   Asleep.

 

 

Joy Is…

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Attending a high school graduation party this past weekend and watching two little boys…one 3 and one 2…playing with icy water in a plastic swimming pool filled with bottled water and sodas.

One little boy had a short sleeved button down plaid shirt and shorts.  The other little boy had a light blue Tshirt and a navy blue romper.  They both had on little brown sandals.

They would sneak over to the wading pool and dip their hands in, scream and giggle and then peak around to see if their parents had caught them.  They got braver and braver and at one point they were putting their heads down close to the water and trying to lick the floating ice cubes.

Every parent in that back yard just watched and smiled, mesmerized by these two young boys.  And we all shared a moment, remembering when our sons (or daughters) now grown and graduating, once found so much joy in something so simple. And how much joy that gave us.

Soccer Mom Equals Chauffeur

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My husband and I started our family a number of years before my siblings did; in fact, my oldest is 5+ years older than the next oldest cousin.  And so, we had the joy of exploring and sharing all the rights of childhood activity passage with our family before the rest experienced organized sports in the suburbs! 

For years, my brother and his wife would politely listen to Dave and I share our children’s latest triumphs on the soccer field.  And I truly felt that the grandparents and aunts and uncles were genuinely interested in what the kids were doing.  At the same time, these same people were inwardly thinking that Dave and I were absolutely nuts.  One needed a PhD in logistics in order to coordinate our weekends and the ability to transcend space and time in order to be both north and south of town at exactly the same time for two different championships.  I suspect that out of my earshot they clucked and tisked (or worse) that poor Dave and Ellen “have no life”.

And now, this summer, I am delighted to report that both of my young nephews are excelling in their current chosen activity…one made the competitive swim team and the other made a select soccer team.  And that means my brother and sister are now…chauffers, cheerleaders and they had better make friends with the other parents if they want any social life for the next few years.

All I can say is…enjoy this time.  As frustrating as shuttling kids from activity to activity can be, there is something incredibly wonderful when you see your child be brave and try something new.  Whether they excel on the field or not, your heart just grows when you watch them do their thing.

Oh yes, and we now have a third driver in the family!

Momma Bear — Or Was I?

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This spring season our youngest played on a “select” soccer team.  In our town, there is a dominant soccer club with a zillion kids in rec and club teams.  In her age group, U9, there were 5 club teams.  She played on the second lowest, or maybe the lowest, I’m not really sure.

In any event, as the season progressed, she got less and less playing time.  During their final tournament, my daughter played 7 minutes out of 50.  But she never complained and was gleefully cheering her team from the sidelines.  She did ask the coach between games why she didn’t play much.  Coach said because there was a really good player on the other team and that my daughter had gotten beat.

So, the coach didn’t sugar coat things, he said what he felt was the truth.  My daughter seemed okay with it.  I didn’t probe too much because I didn’t want to create an issue with her where one didn’t exist.  But she’s nine.  And they are in a very low bracket.

I bit my tongue until last night when I wrote to the director of the program.  I went to bed very proud of myself for standing up for my little girl and every other soccer player out there.  And then this morning I thought…maybe I wasn’t as stand-up brave as I thought?  Should I have said something to the coaches?  Should I have let it go?  What was best for my daughter?  What life lesson would she take from this?