A Message to Parents of Athletes

If I could give one piece of advice to any parent of a child participating in a sport, it's to stop telling your kid to not play a certain position. Quit telling them not to play goalie/pitcher/catcher/defensive end/flyer.  It's not fair to the kids, the coaches, or the team. Just. Stop. Talking.

First, let me explain what I think entitles me to tell you how to parent. I am a hockey mom, a soccer mom, a dance mom, and a softball mom. I have two kids (and a husband—he counts, too) and our whole family is active. Both the Husband and I coach as well. Right now, we're waist deep into hockey season, and I see it all the time—parents tell their kids "I don't want you to play goal, I want you to skate out." It drives me batshit crazy. And if I offend you by saying this, it means you're likely a parent that has crossed this line. We have a kid on our team who in general, doesn't understand the game of hockey. By watching the way he plays, he'd probably make a really good goalie. But his parents told him no. Now, like I said, we're waist deep in the season. I am also the Team Rep (I keep the books, play the Team Mom, and am the scorekeeper), so I see more of the kids and their parents than most others. I realized yesterday that I'd seen this kid's mom for the first time this season. THE FIRST TIME. But it's not just her. Quite a few parents have uttered these same words, and that pretty much guarantees that when you're not at the game, your kid will be in goal.

I'll also clarify: My kid is a part-time goalie. It's not easy to be a goalie mom. And goal isn't always his first choice. (Actually, mine would be any indoor sport where there's heat.) We don't have a dedicated goalie on our team, he does it because no one else will. They are Mites—this is their first opportunity at game play on the ice. It's the perfect time for every kid to try it—the league provides the specialized equipment and training for free. (And if you know anything about the cost of youth hockey, this is BIG.) And by playing goal now, no one is etching into stone that your kid will be goalie until The End Of Time. Do I like the pressure of the 1-on-1? No. But he's confident in goal, so I support him. I told him that no matter what, I will never be that parent that tells him where I want him to play. Here's why you should do the same.

Reason #1: You've done this already. It's not your turn anymore, it's theirs. I once coached with a guy who stood by this simple motto, and it is so true. We're adults. Our time to learn fundamentals of a game are past us. If you trust your kids to be on the field, court, or ice with coaches, then let the coaches do their jobs. You've spent most of your parental life telling this child they can do anything. So stop telling them that they can't. Put your trust in them in any position. Sure, we all want our kid to be the center. But not all kids are centers. Some kids really excel as defensemen. Some kids play a wing position far better than the center plays the center position. Some kids are only here because parents need a few hours a week where they're not responsible for them.  In this case, at least sign them up for a sport they want to do, not one you want them to try. Seriously, I can't teach your kid soccer fundamentals while he's climbing trees.

Reason #2: You're not the coach. A friend once told me that every season, it takes him at least half the season to get the kids to stop listening to their parents on the sideline and to listen to him. He's right. Yes, at some point in our lives, we've all played the same sport as our kids do. But that doesn't give us the right to undermine the coach and redirect our kid. If you want to do that, step up and be a coach. Otherwise, let the coaches do the coaching. We're not taking your right away to work on skills at home, but when we are in a team setting, sit down, shut up, and enjoy the game. Or take a nap, whatever works for you.

Reason #3: This is a game, one meant for kids to have fun. The first statement that I live by as a coach and as an athlete myself is that every player, when they step off the field/court/ice, should be excited to step back on it again—win or lose. Now, I'm not from the school of thought that every kid gets a trophy, they should earn it. But regardless, every kid should be excited to play the game. And if you're telling them they can't play a position because *you* want them to do something else, you might as well clean his ears out with Q-tips at halftime and bring turnips for the team to share after the game.

I get it, as parents, we want to protect our kids. But you also have to trust that they will make the right decisions under pressure without you. Sure, I bite my nails when my kid is in goal and a breakaway unfolds. But I have to have faith in his own confidence and training. And you know what is amazing? Seeing every kid on the ice skate over to my son to either congratulate him on a save or acknowledge that he tried his best, because they trust him too. I did the same when my daughter was a cheerleader. She got picked to be a flyer because she's tiny. Yes, I understand the risk of injury. But she's also really clumsy and could have the same injury walking across the street. That was a sport I despised growing up, but because she wanted to do it, I volunteered my time to help coach and run the organization. And it was one of the most fulfilling opportunities ever. I did it for the kids, not for myself. It was fun to learn with them, to help build their confidence, and to see the satisfied looks on their faces when they performed. But that happened by understanding what each kids' strengths and weaknesses were, and putting them in the correct position to support that. Trust me, I got plenty of parents who wanted to know why my kid was a flyer and theirs wasn't. But it wasn't about favoritism. If anything in coaching, my kids get the short end of the stick because I want to make sure that all the kids see I am here for them, not just my kid. Frankly, I'd rather let someone else coach my own kid, then I don't have to worry about that nonsense.

I think this also comes with having to understand who your kid really is. This kid I mentioned before, his parents are just...out to lunch. We've been working on a travel tournament for months, and I finally had to ask the dad directly if they are in or out, because I need to collect funds. His answer? "I'm really busy, so I probably missed it." WTF? Listen, I'm no super mom, but let me explain something. I work a day job as a Brand Manager. I have my own freelance business as a graphic/web designer and photographer that I do on nights and weekends. My Husband is a Manager at an auto dealership and also does inventory side work on weekends. I myself play soccer two nights a week. He plays hockey one night a week. As I said, my son plays hockey and soccer, and my daughter plays softball and is a dancer. I have the same 24 hours in a day as you do. I still find a way to make this all happen. We don't miss birthday parties and gatherings with friends, we fit those in, too. So don't give me this whole "I lead a busy life" crap, and then try to tell your kid that you think you know what position is best for them. The only position I'm trying to keep my kids from is hoping that my daughter doesn't end up dancing on a pole. The rest is fair game. Let them have fun, let them play where they want to, and if you don't like it, then just add Bourbon to your Dunkin Donuts coffee and you'll be better equipped to tolerate whatever the coaches decide. Capiche?

A story about a boy and his hippo

 

I love this kid. 

Screw the Rabbit.

I've never been crazy for holidays. Now, my old roommate--who was the youngest of three--said she remembered the exact moment that she found out Santa wasn't real, the Easter bunny didn't bring chocolate, and mom plays the tooth fairy, often in a forgotten rush. And she was devastated. I couldn't tell you when I learned or how it affected me. Now that I have kids, I'm on the fence about all these things.

In school, the Daughter is learning about all holidays. Which made it a little hard to explain that no one other than college students and the true Irish celebrate St. Patrick's day. And that Valentine's day around here is simply another day to remind each other how much we love each other, and it doesn't require chocolate or roses or even cards. And don't even get me started on Halloween, I detest that "holiday."

So as far as Santa goes, the Husband and I made a deal. Our kids know that Mommy & Daddy buy their presents. Credit is also given for Grammy & PopPop and Meme, aunts and uncles, and whomever else provides for our family. "Santa" brings one unwrapped present each. Why do we do this? Because we feel like our kids need to know that we work hard for the things we provide, as does everyone else. Presents don't just come from some guy who sleeps all year, works one night, and takes all the credit. (Yet the Husband wonders why I equate him to the mafia...) It instills in our kids that hard work reaps rewards, and we should be grateful for everything we get.They understand the concept, most of the time.

Which brings us to Easter. Now, we aren't all about religion. Briefly, the Husband is Catholic and I am Methodist; yet neither of us practice our religion, by choice. Which means we don't participate in Lent, nor do we really celebrate Easter. Now, I'm not opposed to going to sunrise service. But to be honest, I'd rather not cloak the whole thing in a lie about how some rabbit appears in the night to hide hard boiled eggs and bring cheap chocolate and peeps. (However, should any rabbits or other varmints willing to bring me Godiva or Lindt chocolates, I fully invite them to be left at my doorstep. And no fruit fillings, please.).

I feel like this mainly because the Daughter is at the age where shortly, she will learn that these "stories" are lies. So I'd rather not deal with the whole cover-up. We teach that this is a no-lies household and that you can tell mom and dad anything. And who's to say my children won't be as heartbroken as my old roommate, you know?

Spirit fingers, anyone?

I was never into cheerleading. I was more the type that played the sports and didn't understand the point of cheerleaders. Of course, my senior year, I was one of the captains of the dance team, and it wasn't until then that I actually understood the athleticism of the sport, but I was never the cheerleading type.

Fast forward to a year and a half ago. The Daughter was ready for sports. We had already tried dance, but she has too much energy for tap or ballet. We tried soccer. I even got her lotto cleats with pink laces. But she didn't like other kids taking the ball away. And then she became friends with the neighbor. Who is a cheerleader. And the Daughter fell in love. She'd go to practices with her (the neighbor is about three years older). She went to games. And she was smitten with cheerleading. So I began the quest to find her a team.

Little did I know that up here, there is no cheerleading for basketball. It's football only. And football season was over. I found a gym, Superior Cheer All Stars. And we went to our first practice. She did good, even if the Son was a huge pain and let everyone in the vicinity know that he did NOT want to be there.

Should it surprise anyone that at the end of her first practice, the coach/gym owner (and ridiculous amount of times-national champion coach) said to me, "She's a natural cheerleader. Your daughter is going to be very good." Of course. Of course, my daughter would be a natural cheerleader. My friends back home with all boys think the irony is hysterical. Me, the epitome of a tomboy, ended up with a girly-girl who is now a cheerleader. And not just a cheerleader, an All-Star cheerleader, meaning cheerleading is the sport itself.

I've now learned, as we are into our second season of competition that there are rules. Every cheerleader must wear a bow. There is an unhealthy amount of hairspray to be inhaled. Glitter gets everywhere. Get used to callouses on your hands, because it is not proper to enter a competition without curls, the tight spiral type. And then, there's the big role: Cheer Mom.

I held out the entire first season. I watched the other moms at competitions whip out their arsenal with no less than three cans of hairspray, personalized curlers, and don stylist's aprons full of combs and barrettes. I did buy the "Proud Parent" shirt, but didn't get a chance to wear it. I've worn it twice this season. However, if you think I'll ever be the flashing-hat-wearing, glitter-stars-on-the-face, mom dancing to the cheer type, you'd be wrong. Should I ever become this mom, who orders her minivan with the cheer edition package with in-seat curling irons, fold-down glitter makeup trays and a personalized megaphone, please take me out back and make me play football in the mud. But I do shake my noise maker, I photograph the team, and I cry when my daughter is on the mat. I participate because teams with the most crowd spirit win more points. And points = trophies. And when you're 6, the big trophy is what it's all about.

First place! Yes, I cried. I may not like cheerleading, but I have a little cheerleader. And how do you not support that? Especially when her team wears dark red and black. At the least, they're stylish.

P.S. I did order the personalized cheerleader sticker. For the Husband's truck. He just doesn't know it yet. =)

At least we weren't in public.

Son just came out of the bathroom and said,

"Mom, you're going to have to put the candle on because I'm a big boy now."

Sigh. 

Here's the thing.

I talk to myself. I always have. Not in the third person, that would be too weird. I blame it on the fact that I'm an only child, so I talked to myself at a young age to keep me entertained. Only I never grew out of it. Then when I had kids, I used them to "hide" my talking. People didn't raise an eyebrow if I was mumbling to an infant in Target while searching for the right shampoo. But now, the kidlets are getting older, and they don't understand it, so I don't get away with it as much. Though it would be really nice when I make a comment about someone specific when we're shopping at WalMart for my kids not to shout "WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT THAT LADY STANDING OVER THERE, MOMMY?" and then have to explain myself.

Flash forward to being in the car today with the Son. We had some errands to run, and on the way home, I was making a left turn onto Main Street, but two cars were parked right in my line of sight. So I mumbled, "Dangit, I can't see." The Son, who has surprisingly been quiet, without skipping a beat, says to me,

"Well put on your glasses."

Smart kid he is. He makes me laugh every day. (He also makes me curse when he leaves matchbox cars strategically placed around the house so I step on them.)

I've been upstaged...

by my daughter. Back a few months ago, the family went to Boston. On that trip, I gave the daughter my small camera. I tried to make sure that she took photos on her own, not just copying me. And she did. And it appears that one of her photos has been selected to appear in the Boston Schmap guide! If you're not familiar with Schmaps, it's a cool application meant for mobile devices. So if you're lost in the city (which, we lost our map, if you'll recall, this would have been so helpful), you can access your schmap app and it will not only have directions, but photos of where you're at and reviews. Cool, eh?

So check out the photo! I did put my name as the credit, since she is a minor. =)