My boy who loves new shoes and sweat. My boy who has always had to be moving...running, climbing, kicking, hitting, tumbling, throwing and kicking. This kid who decided he likes a game with strategy, he likes using his head and the passion of his heart and the strength of his hands. This sweet little pre-teen, over-thinker, who stays awake with the wheels of his mind turning over and over what and who will he be.
I read it somewhere: Ask your kid, "Is there anything you really want to make sure that I know? Tell me, I'm listening." We snuggle into my bed on a Tuesday night and I seize my opportunity. His response: "I just love basketball!" This boy loves any sport, duh. But, I tried to hear what he was really trying to say. This is the "good" big brother, who always "acts nice"- and he has found an outlet where aggression is applauded. Fouling is even expected.
I said, "So, why don't we find a tournament team to play on this spring."
"But everything thinks I'm a big time baseball player."
I respond, "So. It's okay to change. It's okay to be something new."
"But Daddy will be upset, he likes coaching me." (What lies do we believe when we are scared to take a step in a new direction?! Me, too.)
I say gently, "No he won't. He and I both want you to do what you love and we will always support you."
And, so we found a couple teams. And, he went all by himself to try out- with new coaches and new teammates ... and new shoes! He actually made both teams. And started longer and harder practices, but came home beaming with pride and excitement each night. I thought about how beautiful it is when we can bravely speak up. I thought about how beautiful it is when we can change who we think we are and who others expect us to be. I thought about how beautiful it is when we step out into a new field, or court or whatever and risk falling short-- but take the chance to soar!
But, the bravery doesn't end there for this boy. During his third tournament, his knee gives. He limps and hobbles and tries to hid his tears. We ice it and he tries to walk on it. But, we eventually have to head to the doctor: ligament sprain...stress fracture...no bending, no running, or playing. What happens when our bravery leads up somewhere we didn't expect? Do we dig deeper and find more bravery inside to now face a team you didn't want to let down? Can we dig deeper to find a bravery to not despair when it feels like the season is ruined? Does it take bravery to put this into perspective and remember the rest of the world, the bigger picture of life?
Why do we, as parents, have to dig so deep to find our own bravery when my sweet son, who has become my "teacher" in this, has simply embraced the situation for what is it- and can say optimistically, "At least I'll be back for the last tournament!"
I read it somewhere: Ask your kid, "Is there anything you really want to make sure that I know? Tell me, I'm listening." We snuggle into my bed on a Tuesday night and I seize my opportunity. His response: "I just love basketball!" This boy loves any sport, duh. But, I tried to hear what he was really trying to say. This is the "good" big brother, who always "acts nice"- and he has found an outlet where aggression is applauded. Fouling is even expected.
I said, "So, why don't we find a tournament team to play on this spring."
"But everything thinks I'm a big time baseball player."
I respond, "So. It's okay to change. It's okay to be something new."
"But Daddy will be upset, he likes coaching me." (What lies do we believe when we are scared to take a step in a new direction?! Me, too.)
I say gently, "No he won't. He and I both want you to do what you love and we will always support you."
And, so we found a couple teams. And, he went all by himself to try out- with new coaches and new teammates ... and new shoes! He actually made both teams. And started longer and harder practices, but came home beaming with pride and excitement each night. I thought about how beautiful it is when we can bravely speak up. I thought about how beautiful it is when we can change who we think we are and who others expect us to be. I thought about how beautiful it is when we step out into a new field, or court or whatever and risk falling short-- but take the chance to soar!
But, the bravery doesn't end there for this boy. During his third tournament, his knee gives. He limps and hobbles and tries to hid his tears. We ice it and he tries to walk on it. But, we eventually have to head to the doctor: ligament sprain...stress fracture...no bending, no running, or playing. What happens when our bravery leads up somewhere we didn't expect? Do we dig deeper and find more bravery inside to now face a team you didn't want to let down? Can we dig deeper to find a bravery to not despair when it feels like the season is ruined? Does it take bravery to put this into perspective and remember the rest of the world, the bigger picture of life?
Why do we, as parents, have to dig so deep to find our own bravery when my sweet son, who has become my "teacher" in this, has simply embraced the situation for what is it- and can say optimistically, "At least I'll be back for the last tournament!"