Mixed Messages to my Kids

We all want to make this world a better place, I think. For certain, I know that I do. Because of this, there has always been quite a bit of focus and education with my kids about respect, giving to others, sharing, and like-wise kindly gestures. It has been important to me as a mother in such a crazy world to teach my children that fits and fighting and violence (no matter how mild) get you no where.

Enter soccer.

For the past 5 years, my son has been playing soccer in a local recreational league. My daughter started it last year as well. Now I cheer for them to run and kick and push and steal! From the sidelines, I give my sweet, beautiful, loving little girl tips on how to mow over an equally cute brunette and get that ball to the net. Kids fall down and I’m yelling for them to walk it off. My boy is not the most aggressive of players…so each Saturday I try to get him psyched about playing by telling him “I know they don’t give cards in your league, but I totally want you to EARN a yellow card.”

No wonder our kids need therapy!! We spend all this time trying to teach them to be kind and sharing and good people…..and the next weekend we are yelling for them to tromp other kids into the mud! However, I do think this all serves a great purpose.

Life is never as idyllic as we would like it to be. We want to protect our children from all of the hardships that are out there and let them experience a childhood that is nothing but bliss. By playing these sports that require work and aggression, and by encouraging them to get aggressive, we give them a glimpse to the REAL world. They have an opportunity to learn what it means to work with someone, and to achieve a goal (pardon the pun).

This became painfully clear about a month ago when my son decided that he did not want to play soccer anymore. He is very much a team player and not one that has to be the “super star” making the goals – and the kids that are like that are very frustrating to him. He and I had a conversation where I reminded him that by putting on the same jersey as everyone else, he made a promise to his team: that he would always be there for them. And that promise is not dependent on whether or not the other kids kept up their end of that promise. He thought about it, and agreed to stick out the rest of the season before taking a break.

So….in working to be more aggressive and fight for his goal, he is learning to work with a team and let each player do what he is best at. My daughter, in being encouraged to run over those other sweet 5 year olds, has learned that she can make a goal and that standing up for herself isn’t a bad thing.

Mixed messages can be tough….but I think that in the game of soccer it has proven to provide balance and not conflict.

Today was the Day

Today was the day it took 2 years to make.

Ok…..two years is exaggerating a bit; it has been 22 months and 29 days. This was the finish line to a journey started on December 25, 2006…..the day my divorce was final. Surprisingly, it has been anti-climactic. Don’t get me wrong…..I am happy and tremendously relieved, but there was no great chorus or dramatic moments.

I spent most of yesterday and all of this morning fighting tears of fear. My EX made it very clear that he was going to be at court this morning even though he was not required, he had to take time off work, and he had already signed the papers. I think he felt the need to come and make sure I did not sneak in some sort of change to the agreement. He is the type of person that would have said “yes, Your Honor, I signed the papers even though I don’t REALLY think it’s all fair.” And then we would have had a problem. So….my tears and I got up in front of the judge, gave a 30 second sworn testimony, and then waited for Mr. Wonderful to drop a bomb. But he didn’t. He nodded and agreed and let it all go through. Wow.

Now I can officially start a new life. Luckily I have started living a little for myself since I moved out 18 months ago. Now I can be public about it. It all feels like when you have been driving for a while with a learners permit, and then you get your license. You don’t really do anything different…..but you’re OFFICIAL.

I realized that I was really back to “me” and myself a couple of weeks ago when I had to get a new debit card. When I got my first debit card at the age of 18, I chose a specific PIN that only I would know. The last 4 digits of my first driver’s license. When I went into get this new debit card PIN assigned a week ago…..I instinctively selected the same 4 digits. Like I was a kid all over again. It struck me as very funny.

Not really sure what I should do now, though. I have my kids with me….this weekend is filled with soccer games and birthday parties – so there is no big party. I think I should just savor the little bit of relief. Spend a little time remembering what it is like to be in this skin. To mark October 24th as a personal holiday EVERY YEAR to come.

The Pettiness of Parents

This is the first year that my son’s soccer team is keeping track of their scores for league placement. So far, there is only one flaw in their perfect record.

A few weeks ago, our team (the Wolves) had an away game against a team (the Fusion) from Edmonds. We got to the field the required 30 minutes early for warm up…..but there was no other team and the field was locked. After the assistant coach made some phone calls, the field was grudgingly opened by the schools head janitor and we went in to start warm up. However, no opposing team. After the boys had played and goofed around for another 20 minutes, a team finally showed up. As it turns out, this other team was scheduled for a different time than us and they were playing against a Marysville team and not a Monroe team. The assistant coach finally got a hold of the league registrar, and let her know that we did not have an opposing team and that we were being booted from the field. The boys were very disheartened.

Two days later at practice, we discovered that the registrar had told our team the wrong time! The team from Edmonds that we were scheduled to play arrived at the proper time, but we were not there to play them. The game would have to be rescheduled.

Yesterday the Wolves played the Fusion in a regular game. This time we were the home team and they were the visiting team; the make-up game still not having been arranged. The game was fantastic, and the Wolves won 9:0. The coach for the Fusion turned out to be quite a tough guy with those boys; he was yelling a lot, and constantly asked them “what are you doing?” And the boys were genuinely frustrated.

As some of the parents got talking after the game, we realized that the chances of getting the previous game rescheduled were slim to none. If the game is not played, then it shows up on the record as our forfeit to them since they were the ones to show up at the proper time and we were the visiting team. And after a harsh game like yesterday, and an obvious winning record, would the other team really risk another loss when a “win” by forfeit was being handed to them?

Which brings me to point out that parents (in this case possibly the coach) sometimes care more about the win that the kids, care more about the outcome than the game, care more about the result than the journey. While we won the game…..all of the parents and coaching staff talked about how the team really did well with passing (an ongoing struggle) and how well the boys worked their positions and played like a TEAM.

Now I worry about the conversations that happened on the drives home for those boys on the Fusion team. Did their parents support them and remind them that they did a great job and gave the other team a run for their money? Or will the boys go to practice this week and hear that they let the win slip through their fingers, and just didn’t work?

The point is to play the game.

Why do I need to “BLOG”

Tonight I am sitting on my bed, and wondering why I feel the need to write out my thoughts and feelings for what is potentially the whole world to see. Why should I be so proud and so bold as to think that anyone is interested in ME.

While contemplating my arrogance in posting bologna on the web, I think I am realizing that it really isn’t about what people want to read in a strict sense. If that were the case, then I would pursue being a great romance novelist……because who doesn’t have a trashy story or two as a guilty pleasure, right? The reason I feel this need to spew about my days, my nights, and my completely uneventful life, is because for so long I have not had anyone to hear me. All of what I want to put up on this little Nuurdy site is a bit of an over-correction for being silent for so long.

For as long as I can remember, I have held back what I think from those around me. It is only in my very recent past that I have started to exercise my ability to disagree with anyone and still feel like the world has not crashed around me. When I don’t particularly care about someone (had no emotional connection) then it has been pretty easy for me to stand up for myself or to speak my mind; but as soon as there is any kind of relationship with a person, I shrink away from being different because I don’t want them to be upset or angry or hurt. The past 2 years have been an ongoing epiphany of individuality. So…..in not wanting to ever upset anyone, I never said a word. Not of real value, anyway. And when you stop speaking….people stop listening.

I love to learn about other people. Whether it’s a captivating biography, little updates in letters, or chatting with friends, I love to hear about the ups and downs of those I care about. Maybe it’s time to realize that there might be a few out there that care about me, too. And if I start speaking, hopefully they will listen again.