One of “Those” Parents

embarrassment .

that is what the picture to the left represents. that is me in all my shameful (non)glory.

Less than one month ago I deleted this blog in a fit. I should have thought about it first-you know never make a rash choice in the heat of the moment or whatever. But I did and the next day regretted it…slightly.

So, here’s the skinny.
My son tried out for a competitive team. I thought I was prepared. I talked to a lot of people. His coaches thought he would do fine in the tryout. “no need to worry.” He knew a lot of kids who already played on that team (from school) and they told him they thought he would be fine.

What I didn’t count on was what the coach who picked the team thought. How his brain works and the type of kid he is looking for. 

The days we had to wait for the numbers to be posted on the site were excruciating. My son was extremely confident based on what his friends said. I didn’t realize until later that I was more nervous than I should be.Sunday night came and the numbers were posted. My son’s number was NOT on the page. 

PANIC- 
maybe we are looking at the wrong age group. 
Click. nope. click. nope. 
maybe they accidentally reversed the boys numbers with the girls. 
Click. nope. click. nope.

oh holy heck.
My precious son did not make the team.
NOW.What.???

Much crying and screaming ensued.
Not from him.
From me.
This is the part that just makes me want to hide under the sofa for a about 22 days-which is what I did, when I deleted the blog.

I felt like it was the end of the world. I never took risks as a child. I only tried out for things that I KNEW I could make. I did the same thing with my son.

“I would have NEVER allowed you to do this if I WAS NOT certain that you would make it.”
-Came out of my own mouth. It was several days before I realized I had become one of “those parents”.

Somewhere in the process I had lost sight of the spirit of the game and that it really was all about the fun. I was vicariously living through my son and his soccer achievements because I am about as athletic as his socks.

I also forgot that boys are much more resilient than their mothers. He was ready to build a soccer equipment bonfire Sunday and cancelling his trip to camp. Heck he even mentioned playing football (gasp). And by the time I got back from the store with the lighter fluid-he had packed his bags for camp. 

He told me that he doesn’t care what team he is on. He loves the game. He will do whatever it takes.

I could learn a lot from my kid.
I need to pay more attention.