My Athlete of the Week

A few months ago, I found a karate program for Joe that I thought was going to rock his world.  Joe is a kid who likes to dress up and he pretends to battle the bad guys, and he might believe that he knows some martial arts (but he doesn't), so I thought I'd get some major mama-points for hooking him up with some legit hi-ya skills.  Plus, karate promotes all sorts of discipline and respect, yada yada.

He was excited, I think.  I took him to his first class, and he participated, and afterward, he said, "Sign me up."  We could either sign him up for the whole year and receive a special bag with bonus accessories, or we could do twice a week during the summer, or just once a week during the summer.  Joe chose to go twice a week, I wrote a check, and we were on our way.

"So, that was a lot of fun!  You did so well!  Are you excited?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh, okay.  You don't sound very excited.  What's up?"

"Well, it smells funny in there."  It is true- the dojo smelled like a gym.  "And the Sensei is stinky."  Also true.  "And I don't think I want to do karate.  I thought it would be different."

"What??  Then why did you just tell me that you'd like to take two classes each week?" 

"Because the Sensei was standing right there and I didn't want to hurt his feelings."

"Well, why did you let me write a check?  You watched me write a check- you could have stopped me!'

"Because I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
"Joe, no one's feelings are hurt.  You tried the class, and I am proud of you for giving it a try, and you don't have to take the class, but don't let me write the check and then tell me that you don't want to do it!"

"And, besides, if anyone ever tries to mess with me, I already know a bunch of fighting moves."  Oh my gosh, there were so many things wrong with his statement that I didn't even know where to begin.  My head was kind of spinning.  In that moment, I don't think that I was disappointed that he didn't want to take the karate class.  Actually, I take that back.  I was surprised and disappointed that he didn't want to take the class.  But I was most concerned about Joe's habit of wanting to quit

.  

I'd noticed on several occasions that Joe wants to quit when he faces difficulty.  If he is up against a challenge, his first words are I can't, followed by I don't want to.  Even something as simple as cleaning his room.  If the mess becomes too overwhelming, I hear, "I can't clean this up!"  And if a homework assignment requires a lot of effort, he cries and again I hear, "I can't do this!"

As a parent, I shudder at the thought of raising a child who gives up easily, because as most of us know, life ain't easy!  Can I hear an amen!?  Just like anyone else, I want to raise children who overcome and rise to the occasion and persevere and work hard.  I want to encourage my troop with all of the cliches that my own parents said to me- When the going gets tough, the tough get going and When you fall off the horse, you get right back on again.  And I want to see my kids succeed and learn and grow and tell them You did a great job and I am so proud of you.

So, all of this to say that I am a bit sensitive about Joe's tendency to give up.

And that is why I rolled my eyes on Tuesday morning when Joe announced that he is going to quit the school softball team.  He'd rather join the drama club, and his softball team isn't very good anyway.  I took a deep breath and gave my very best speech about why he is not going to quit the softball team.  And while we completely support him in joining the drama club, he had been practicing with the softball team for three weeks, and they hadn't even played their first game yet, and he had committed to the team, and he should just go out there and have fun...

And their first game was Wednesday.  Max, Lucy and I went to watch him play, and we arrived with a bag full of snacks and a basket full of toys.  Even with my snacks and toys, Max and Lucy could not be contained, so I didn't really get to watch much of the game, but here is what I did see:  I saw Joe in right field cheering on the pitcher, who had walked at least six batters, "Let's do this, Kylee!  You've got this one!"  I saw him get two great hits, and though both times he was tagged out before he ever crossed home-plate, he returned to the dugout and asked, "Mom, did you see my hit!?"  I saw Joe take the pitching mound in the fourth inning and get two strike-outs and then make a play at first base to get the third out.  I saw him having fun with his team, even though they lost.  I mean, they really, really lost.  They did not score even one run, and the other team had 20 runs, at least.

When the game was over, the coach huddled the players on the grass and talked about what they did well and what they can work on to improve.  I listened while Max and Lucy ran around the bases.  Coach explained that each week he will be giving the game ball to a player who played well and kept his/her head in the game, and that player will be Athlete of the Week and will be named on a plaque inside the school.  "And this week, the game ball goes to Joe." 

I grabbed my camera from my bag and started taking pictures because I didn't know what else to do- I felt so goofy standing there alone with big tears in my eyes.

And Joe was very pleased with himself.  "I'm so glad that I didn't quit!"

He didn't even seem to notice that they lost- and they really, really lost.

It felt so good to tell him You did a great job and I am so proud of you!   

And I gave myself a pat on the back too, because even though I often feel like I'm wingin' this whole parenting gig, maybe I'm doing something right!  (go ahead, Mom, tell me that you are proud of me!)