Ball in your hand, and a bird on your shoulder

Dear Wildcat,

There are so many things I wish I could tell you about now. This is your first season playing basketball--a sport that gave me more frustration, self-doubt, and stress than any other in my days of playing sports. It was also a sport that I lived and breathed by high school, and that I could not get enough of at the very same time. One that I miss to this day and wish I was still playing, actually.

This first season of basketball has been a roller coaster ride for you, and for your Dad and I as well. After your first game, where you did pretty well, you froze in your second game. You came back in the next practice and played harder than I have ever seen you play. You got knocked to the ground and popped right back up again with a tenacity that made me proud. You put up a million shots, 98 percent of which didn't go in, and you did not stop trying.

And, then we came to tonight's game. The first quarter went fine. You didn't score, but made some great defensive moves that even helped your team to score. You put your hands up to ask for the ball, instead of almost hiding from it on offense. And, then you twisted your knee...

And, then you sat out. And, it was obvious to your Dad and me that the knee was fine. But, you still sat out. And, you moaned and you told the coach you just couldn't run. For. The. Rest. Of. The. Game.

And, I know you saw the disappointment on your Dad and my face. I know you didn't know how to handle that. And, the longer you sat out, the more frustrated you saw us become. When the coach pointed out at the end of the game in front of your teammates and the parents that he wanted to put you in and you said you couldn't run, I know that crushed you because it crushed us the same. And, then you came home and melted down completely.

Wildcat, we love you and always will. We know that these are lessons you have to learn on your own. I wish so much that I could be there to whisper in your ear the right way to handle things, but then it wouldn't be called growing up for a reason.

I wish I could hug away your insecurities. I wish that I could somehow prevent you from walking in such a similar path from my own years of growing up. It is painful for me, as your mother, to watch you making the same mistakes that I did. I wish I could give you a mirror that would show you what a gifted and wonderful person you already are to all of those who know you.

All I can do is tell you it is OK. That we love you and that the next practice you will give it your all and you will show your coach that you care. I will try to push away my own frustrations with you and build you back up again. I will show you that it is not the end of the world, when you choose the wrong action in a 9-year-old basketball league, because it really is not.

Wildcat, there will be so many more games you play, be it in basketball or in life. There will be times that you feel like you can't get in the game. Times that you play in the game and you wish you did not. Times that you score the winning goal and are so glad that you did. There will be times that you talk yourself out of things that you could have overcome. Successes that you will miss because you didn't believe you deserved them.

I know. I have done the same.

But, I also know that it is these small lessons that will make you grow into the fine young man that I know you are going to be. Your big heart will stay intact and you will learn these lessons each day until one day you can look back and realize that childhood was not so bad. You will have the wisdom to see that sitting out and faking an injury made you realize that your team does need you. That you deserve to be a part of that exciting come-back win. That you ARE good enough to play and you are only cheating yourself when you choose to sit out.

Most of all, Wildcat, I want you to know that nothing will change our love for you. And, I hope that your love for yourself only grows and grows. If I could have been a little bird sitting on your shoulder tonight during that long game from the bench, well, that's what I would have whispered to you. That and I love you more than anything, my beautiful boy.

Love,
MomCat

The Pushy Playdate

For those parents out there, tell me if you've ever faced this dilemma and if you have a solution. My son (Wildcat) is friends with a neighbor boy that he's played with for years. The two actually have a ton in common, like all the same things and we're friends with their parents. We know our values are pretty much the same as theirs and it's an easy playdate to set up.

The neighbor boy has a little sister too. She's a little younger than Miss Kitty (my daughter), but getting old enough now to also join in the fun. Miss Kitty likes to play with her when we see them at the gym and they seem to mutually enjoy one another's company.

Neighbor boy has been raised with good manners, probably better than my own kids. His mom calls ahead to make sure he picks up what he's played with before she picks him up. In short, it has all the makings of a dream playdate scenario for both my kids.

There's just one problem--and it has to do with pushiness. You see, while my son has everything in common with neighbor boy, we run into a problem when they've had one too many playdates together. And, that's the pushy factor. And, today I'm getting to witness some of what makes my son complain and eventually not want to play with neighbor boy after a few times.

In the car last week on the way home from neighbor boy's house, Wildcat shared with me,

"Mom, you know how when we have friends over we let them play our games first, because they are our guest?""

Yes," I answered. "Well, neighbor boy always reminds me of that when he comes over to play. But, the problem is, when I go to his house and I'm the guest, he STILL plays the whole time and I just stand and watch him."

As he's told me before, the playdate always goes as this boy wants it to go, regardless of where they play. They play what the boy wants, and when it comes time for my son's turn, well they're out of time

Now, before this, I've sort of put the blame on my Wildcat.

"If you want him to take turns, you need to tell him that. Tell him you don't want to play anymore unless he plays fair. Stand up for yourself."

Wildcat does have a problem with passivity and avoiding conflict sometimes, so I assumed that was the main issue.

But, today I'm seeing the problem up close and I can tell Wildcat has had enough. For example, we set up our pool and slip-n-slide for the kids to play. Only 5 minutes into it, neighbor boy was done.

"Let's go make an obstacle course on your fort!" he boldly orders.

Wildcat pauses and says, "But, I'm having FUN playing in the water.
Can't we do this a little longer?"

"No. Let's do this instead," neighbor boy says enthusiastically.
(You can't fault his enthusiasm at least.)

Wildcat shrugs and walks away from the slip-n-slide. I whispered to him that we'd get back on there after neighbor boy and his sister left.

After only a couple of minutes on the fort, with renewed vim, neighbor boy announces, "Hey, let's go get your cars and make them race on the slide!"

Wildcat sighs, and goes with neighbor boy to get the cars. They put the water on the fort with the cars.

The next thing I know, I see Wildcat at the bottom of the slide, watching neighbor boy send the cars down. As he laughs and bends down to pick up the cars at the bottom, neighbor boy barks,

"Don't TOUCH that. Just STAND AND WATCH. I will come and get them."

Wildcat looks at me defeated and sighs again and I decide I need to intervene some.

OK, neighbor boy, once you are done, Wildcat gets a turn doing the same, OK?"

"Sure!" He says happily.

Once he finishes sending the cars down, seems to take him quite awhile, my son goes to take his turn when we see neighbor boy wrapping up in a towel.

"I'm done playing out here. Let's go in now," he says.

Wildcat gives me the see-mom-I-told-you-so look again.

"Hey, Mrs, Momcat?"

Neighbor boy begins and I already know where this is going.

"What about us having a spend-the-night tonight, now that it is summer?"

"Uh, well...I'm not sure...maybe this weekend...uh, we have a garage sale and we don't know what you all are doing either."

"I'll ask my Mom," he says confidently.

"We'll see..." I say hesitantly, "are you talking at YOUR house or at ours?"

"Yours!" He answers happily.

Hmm...." I say wearlily...

Now, I have to come up with excuses to put this off even longer because I know while his family would even love to have Wildcat over, Wildcat has had enough for awhile. And, his mom is a good a friend of mine, so that makes it all the more awkward.

As I walk upstairs to check on the girls playing inside now because their older brothers came in, I see little neighbor girl with my daughter's Leapster game playing happily while Miss Kitty sits to the side waiting patiently. Suddenly, Miss Kitty looks up with a tired look about her.

Oh no, here we go again...

Another Parenting Pickle: Bullies/Child Isolated

Hello, there. It's me again. I know you thought I only got on here to post reviews anymore, due to my lack of posting. But, no! I AM alive. I promise I will get to posting trivial nonsense blog posts again, as well as the humor. For now, I ask you to put yourself in this lovely parenting pickle that I find myself in:

• Imagine yourself living on a street filled with kids who are within 1-2 years of your own.


• Imagine having friends who like doing the same things as you on that street.


• Now, imagine if there was a boy on this street who was mean. His parents divorced and that made him even more mean. And, you knew he didn't like you at all for some reason, but you did not know why.


• Picture if this boy decided to target you. He decided to call you names, and get all the other kids to not play with you.


• Let's say this went on for several years in a row...some times being worse than others.


• Imagine trying to deal with this, and learning to ignore him, but feeling like you can't get away from him. First, he was in your class, then he got assigned to sit by you on the bus, then he was in your various social groups.


• Now, let's say you finally got to where you just tried to stay away from the boy. You didn't go out to play if he was around, you rode your bike to school because of his harassment on the bus. Your father spoke with his about the torment. You feel like you were getting a handle on it. You got to where you didn't care that he didn't like you, you just didn't want to deal with him anymore.


• Imagine how you would feel if suddenly a few other kids started to shun you now. "Go away," they'd say to you when you came out to play with the other kids. "You can't come in to play," they would say as they lead the other kids into their home to play without you.


• Think about how it would feel to have the bully that you've dealt with for many years, actually being nicer to you than some of the kids you thought were your friends...and you don't know why. Why don't they want to play with you? Why don't they like you? Are you a bad person?


• Imagine watching your parents struggle with this, obviously upset and wanting to help you, but frustrated too because you come home and take it out on them, you don't stand up for yourself, you do things that make yourself more of a target, etc.

Did you get a clear picture of that in your head?

This boy is my son. And, I love him. He gets along great with peers in school. Has great friends in his scout troop, sports teams, and in his classes. When we walk places at school, kids yell out hello to him. Most of what I get back from the teachers is that he is very well-liked, just not into doing his school work. (He never has been!)

Last night, my son told me he really wants to move far away from this street. And, in my desperation of watching him struggle with these kids for years, I have to admit, I even considered it a possibility.

I don't know how to handle this anymore. I will keep him busy after school and hope he doesn't feel it a punishment that he isn't out playing in the street. I have to give him some distance from these kids and hope that they forget they've made him a target. I have to allow him space so he can get some time to think and try to handle them in a better way than he has. He has brought more on himself by not handling his emotions well--either by showing tears or hurt too often (and getting called a baby), or by being too pushy.

• Imagine you were this parent, who sees this beautiful child who has a huge heart and so much to give struggling and so sad.


• Imagine if you saw your own flaws in your child, ones that you desperately struggle to get rid of yourself, magnified and making your own son miserable.


• Imagine if your heart was breaking because his frustration is making him lash out at home at you, his family, etc. and you go from sympathy to frustration because he just acts so hateful to you at times.


• Imagine worrying that if you don't get a handle on this before the teen years, you're in deep trouble and so is he. He's only eight years old. What will 16 be like?


• Imagine if you just felt like you didn't know what to do anymore...and you didn't know if you could handle this with all of your own emotional baggage. You just wanted your son to be happy. Have some friends. Have a normal little life.

Yeah, you got it. You just imagined me...

At Close Range with the Bully Friend

If you read my post yesterday, then you know I was in a "parenting pickle" with regards to my son and his new friendship with the class bully/problem child.

Well, we went ahead with the playdate, shifting it to our house under the guises of my son wanting to show his friend his newly decorated room. In reality, it was so that I could keep an eye on and both ears open to what this child would do.

In the course of an hour and a half, the following happened:

• Bully friend (a.k.a. BF) made a b-line for the bathroom when we got home, then took a huge man-sized dump and LEFT it there without flushing to stink up our entire upstairs.
  
• BF stood poised with what I THOUGHT was a laser tag gun between my daughter at the top of the stairs and me at the bottom and asked, "Who wants to get shot next?" He looked at my toddler and then me and said, "YOU do," and shot the gun, which was actually a Nerf gun with bullets at my temple and hit it DEAD ON target.
  
• BF later shot my daughter in the face with a Nerf bullet when she came to give him a picture she'd made. (He did apologize to her after, but this was after my Nerf attack and after I'd told him we did not allow shooting at people's heads in our house.)
  
• BF announced when he left our house (in front of his father) that he sure liked that we had a second story to our house, but he was pretty sure he "had WAY more toys" than my son did.

I don't know, I think it went pretty well. Don't you?

Another Parenting Pickle: Befriending the Bully

I'm in a bit of a "parenting pickle." You know those situations you find yourself in where you are completely sure you are ill-equipped to make a parenting decision, and yet you know your decision will affect a lot in your child's life. As tough as that pickle jar is to open, sometimes you make the right choice and open up to a buttery sweet result--and all is well in the end. Other times, once you pry the jar open and take a bite, you realize your choice left you with nothing but sourness. So, help me solve my latest parenting pickle, will you? Because everyone knows that bad parenting is a really big "DILL!" (OK, I couldn't resist that one...)

My rather shy-around-other-kids son has somehow managed to befriend the class bully. And, not only befriend him, but the child has told his mother that my son is his only friend in the class.

It all goes back to those values we have tried to instill in our son to be nice to everyone, even if they are different from you. And, I guess that lesson stuck with him, which is something that makes me proud. When he started the school year, he told me about a little boy in his class with a rather unique name. He said he remembers the kid from last year, because he always heard the coaches screaming his name out for misbehaving in P.E. This was my first taste of the "pickle" that was to come.

The year went by and, on occasion, my son would come home with stories about the bully boy. Usually, they involved the boy being sent to the principals office, or something really odd or funny that the bully boy said. I met the boy when I went to read to the class and found him peculiar, but entertaining.

At Christmas, my son brought home a hidden gift from bully boy in his backpack. The teacher had let him sneak it home, as they are not allowed to do gifts for kids as a rule. She told me later this was the only person the bully boy did this for in the whole class. When my son opened it, it was a leather bracelet with metal beads spelling out my son's name.

Then, came the boy's birthday where he invited my son and one other boy from his class. And, the mother mentioned playdates to come. And, I just sort of started to worry a little about it. It is one thing to be nice to everyone. It is another to be associated with a kid who has a reputation for misbehaving and being disruptive in class. Proceed with caution, my mind said.

And, then today I got a phone call from bully boy's mom. She was very upset and wanted to confide in me that the boy was going to be switching classes after tomorrow. She explained to me how she feels one of their two teachers has targeted her son all year, and gave examples of things that have been said and done to her son this year. I let her vent, expressed my sympathies for her son because I knew the other kids teased him a lot for getting in trouble. (Based on what she said, I discovered that bully boy has been sent to the office many times this year and his parents have regular meetings with the teachers and vice-principal.) And, then she asked for a playdate in a few days for our boys.

There is a very big part of me that wants to put the kibash on this whole thing. While I am not a parent who worries about my son being the most popular kid at school or getting in with the "in crowd, I don't want him associating with the opposite of that either. But, I am proud that he's shown compassion for this boy. In talking to his mom, it sounds like our two sons are actually very much alike--but their insecurities just come out differently. My son becomes quiet and withdrawn, while hers acts out. They are both smart boys who struggle with the same issues with the school system in general. So, another part of me thinks this friendship is a comforting thing. My son has never been a discipline problem though, and will his association with the boy either label him in the teachers' minds or influence his own behavior?

So, you can see how I am stuck between wanting my son to be accepting and friends with whomever he wants, and wanting to protect him from ruining his own reputation by being friends with a labeled "problem child." And, this has been a hard year for him. He's had very few invitations to play from his own class and doesn't really talk about anyone else but this boy.

OK, bloggers, parents, and educated minds out there: I am asking you--what would you do? Help me solve my parenting pickle! And, if you're currently struggling with a pickle of your own, blog about it and I'll link back to you. Maybe we can all help each other out here!