A week ago I had an experience with a coach and a "friend" that changed my soul. I have come on here a few times to write about it, but the feelings were/are too raw, too hurtful, too confusing, too... Let me try to explain.
Basketball for my boys feels like it has been an uphill battle. It is daunting to figure out what trail to really take. It seems like most trails are filled with leeches (personal coaches) who want to charge you a killing to train your kid. I seriously mean, Charge. You. A. Killing. Some are as high as $100/hour. A $100/hour to workout a kid who does not bring any money to the table through the sport that they are training them to play. Is this absurd? I feel like it is. Some of these people have never even played basketball on the professional level, or studied it in college. Anyway... I had a friend who kindly invited my boys to attend a workout with her son with one of these personal coaches. To be honest, the coach was good. He saw the game of basketball from a different perspective, one that opened my boys eyes to a different way of playing the game. The personal basketball coach had great basketball handling drills and could really isolate what each boy was doing and tweak it to make him more successful. Was it worth $100/hour? Not in my book, but I was willing to pay $30/per boy per hour. The first week with this coach went well. The second week left much to be desired. I am not sure how much to discuss, how much I want to relive.
Basically, my boys were 10 minutes late to the workout. I could elaborate about how I had to pick up my"friend's" son and he wasn't quite ready when we got there, or how I waited for another boy who she claimed was coming but he was nowhere to be found, or how she did not send any money with her son and I had to pay for his admittance which took twice as long to enter the gym. But, needless to say, we were late and that is the fact. When my son walked in he apologized to the personal coach for being tardy, the coach told him to hurry and change his shoes because he had to leave at 3:30 sharp. My sons quickly changed their shoes. When I soon entered the gym the coach came up to my face and very sternly started barking at me about how he had to leave right at 3:30 and we were 10 minutes late. I was stunned and felt awkward because the coach is shorter than me and that makes things uncomfortable. Hey ladies, ever have a shorter man try and get in your face but you have to look down to let it happen? Ya, awkward. Because I felt uncomfortable I turned around while telling him that I understood that he had to leave and I apologized for being late. I guess he took that I rolled my eyes and proceeded to brow-beat me with mean words and tone. Never have I been in a situation where a man just came at me like I was a child, yelling, snapping, and carrying on. I was humiliated and stunned. I wanted to leave but my son reminded me (quietly) that I had my "friends" kid too and it wouldn't be fair to him to leave early; so my boys and I stayed. At the end of the hour the coach attempted to apologize for his treatment of me, but said some more unkind things about me being a problem parent, being lazy, and my kids never being successful. I smiled, as best I could, paid him and got out of there. For the rest of the weekend I cried and have still been reeling by what took place. The helplessness a woman feels when a man comes at her and she is somewhat alone. The humiliation when one adult berates another adult in public. The disrespect that is felt when a white man figuratively spits on a brown woman. That is what I have been processing. We all left the workout, with the personal coach planning on working with the boys again, and me spiritually wounded. I know it sounds dramatic, but those are my feelings.
The thing that probably hurts the most from all of this is my "friend" never called me after the event. I tried to call her but she was too busy to talk. She did however call the personal coach first thing the next morning, but it was days before I heard from her. When she did call me it was to tell me his side of the story and to tell me, "I have worked so hard to get in his good graces and you almost ruined it for my son with your behavior toward the coach." My behavior? I picked up her child, paid for her child, waited for her child, took her child back home safely. I apologized to the coach for our tardiness. I took his abusive behavior and words. I paid him what he was owed. I swallowed his treatment toward me. My behavior? What about his behavior?
I can no longer see her face without my stomach flopping. I cannot speak her name without a frog in my throat. She sided with a man who she has not known for long, who charges her $100/hour; and above all, she blamed me for his treatment toward me. I have gone over that event more times that I can express. I have talked about it with loved ones. I have heard my kids recollection of what took place. And in the end I realize his treatment of me was unwarranted. Even if I had rolled my eyes, he should have never berated me like he did. I am a mother, a woman, and at the time I was alone. How could she side with him? How should I now respond to her? The crazy thing is I am now okay going around that personal coach. He doesn't know me. But presently I don't think I could go around her. How do you respond?
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Saturday, June 9, 2012
When do you know it's over?
These past few weeks, maybe even months, have been very frustrating for me. I am not sure how my son feels, but my momma belly has been tied in knots.
I love my kiddos and I want whatever dreams they may have to be fulfilled. I want to be a support and guide, but I am not sure I am going about things the right way.
I am tired of researching, begging, strategizing, sacrificing, and running, all in the name of one sport. On the other hand I don't want to throw in the towel just yet. What if his break is just around the corner and we stopped moving right before we got there?
All he needs is a team, a coach, and a few games. Is that too much to ask?
Maybe the fates are telling us to throw in the towel?
From the time he started playing basketball my son has been on one crappy team after another. Most were losing teams. There were teams with coaches who learned about basketball by reading a few books. Others had coaches who were obsessed with making their son (who was also on the team) the focal point therefore limiting my son. Some were filled with jerk players and coaches which hurt my son's spirit and made me angry. For the most part I feel the teams (coaches) were using my son; they used him for money, to make their kid look good, to have someone for their other kids to play against, and/or fill a vacancy until something better came along. For the last 3 years it has been a quagmire of crap with glimpses of greatness. And because of this I have found myself becoming more sceptical and suspicious of most people. Once upon a time I believed in dreams coming true, teamwork, and loyalty.
A year ago I thought we had finally found a team that he would/could grow with for the long run, but now I think that is not the case. Just like hair extensions it was probably too good to be true.
The team and coaches were of diverse backgrounds. Not one coach had a son on the team. The head coach had a lot of basketball experience and game knowledge. He had this ability to teach the game, push the kids to their limit, and make it fun. In the beginning it was so exciting to see what my son was experiencing that I began looking for sponsorships for the team. Then I started to notice a shift taking place.
No longer was the coach interacting with my son and a few of the other boys in his age range. The game and tournament play ceased. The coach didn't update me on what he was seeing with my son, as a matter of fact he seemed annoyed when I (and possibly my son) came around. Coach started having my son play against much younger/smaller kids which would improve their skills but leave my son's development stagnant. Which brings me to today... No real team and no games.
When do you know it's over?
I love my kiddos and I want whatever dreams they may have to be fulfilled. I want to be a support and guide, but I am not sure I am going about things the right way.
I am tired of researching, begging, strategizing, sacrificing, and running, all in the name of one sport. On the other hand I don't want to throw in the towel just yet. What if his break is just around the corner and we stopped moving right before we got there?
All he needs is a team, a coach, and a few games. Is that too much to ask?
Maybe the fates are telling us to throw in the towel?
From the time he started playing basketball my son has been on one crappy team after another. Most were losing teams. There were teams with coaches who learned about basketball by reading a few books. Others had coaches who were obsessed with making their son (who was also on the team) the focal point therefore limiting my son. Some were filled with jerk players and coaches which hurt my son's spirit and made me angry. For the most part I feel the teams (coaches) were using my son; they used him for money, to make their kid look good, to have someone for their other kids to play against, and/or fill a vacancy until something better came along. For the last 3 years it has been a quagmire of crap with glimpses of greatness. And because of this I have found myself becoming more sceptical and suspicious of most people. Once upon a time I believed in dreams coming true, teamwork, and loyalty.
A year ago I thought we had finally found a team that he would/could grow with for the long run, but now I think that is not the case. Just like hair extensions it was probably too good to be true.
The team and coaches were of diverse backgrounds. Not one coach had a son on the team. The head coach had a lot of basketball experience and game knowledge. He had this ability to teach the game, push the kids to their limit, and make it fun. In the beginning it was so exciting to see what my son was experiencing that I began looking for sponsorships for the team. Then I started to notice a shift taking place.
No longer was the coach interacting with my son and a few of the other boys in his age range. The game and tournament play ceased. The coach didn't update me on what he was seeing with my son, as a matter of fact he seemed annoyed when I (and possibly my son) came around. Coach started having my son play against much younger/smaller kids which would improve their skills but leave my son's development stagnant. Which brings me to today... No real team and no games.
When do you know it's over?
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
How Can We Make it Through this Alive?
Top 10 Things to Ensure You Survive a Las Vegas Tourney
...not in any particular order...
1... Purchase a portable navigation unit, or download Google Maps to your phone.
Sometimes the games are not in one central location and you never want to be late to a team meeting or practice.
2... Stay at or near the team.
This way if there are any changes you will hear about it. Also, if the team does any activities your kiddo will have an opportunity to bond with their teammates. One more thing, before the tourney is officially over there is usually a single-elimination championship; if you are closer to the team you will be able to find out where to be and when.
3... Stay at a place that has a complimentary breakfast.
This will save you money (pretty obvious) and time. Some of the games are held in the morning. If you have a particular kiddo that likes to eat at least two hours before a game, having breakfast at the hotel will ease having to run around a strange area looking for breakfast at 6:30am.
4... Keep in mind, and remind your kiddo, that the kids he/she is playing against are their same age and they are not Super Humans.
Don't freak out! These are kids, just like your kid. I can't tell you how many times before we went did I hear how my kid was going to play against kids like LJames and MJordan. The truth is if your kiddo wasn't remotely good enough the coach would not be taking them, Coaches don't like to lose.
Your child will not be facing Super Humans out on the hardwood. They are kids who are around the same age as your kiddo, and they come in many different sizes and strengths. And don't spend your time focusing on the star of the other team who has a full beard and crows feet, he is 15. Just ask his coach.
5... Check, check and check AGaIn to make sure you have packed the sneakers and uniform.
All other items can be replaced at the local Target or made do without.
6... Before leaving the hotel room check, check and check again that you have the sneakers/cleats.
Some of these games can be a distance from where you are staying and you might not be able to get back to the hotel and return to the game in time.
7... Don't stay on the strip.
Unless you love trudging through a huge lobby, and hiking to parking, stay off of the strip. Keep in mind that the daytime is different than the nighttime on the strip. As a matter of fact, if you choose to go on the strip invest in horse blinders to put on your kiddos heads and tell them not to read anything on the ground.
8... Plan on the expense of watching the tournament. Some of the tournaments can run around $12 a day per person who is not playing, and that can go for anyone 5 years and older.
I have mentioned this in a previous post, but every time we are down there I see someone who is surprised at the charge; and it can add up when you bring the entire family.
9... Mentally prepare yourself that the trip will be full of games, sleeping, prepping for games, sleeping, resting, eating, and games.
There are usually games throughout the entire day. This means you could have a game in the morning, have to go to a central location to pickup your t-shirt and watch a NCAA film, and then have a game that night. This doesn't leave much time to run to Tahoe or the Fashion Show Mall.
10... Enjoy every minute of it because this is such a short time and not everyone gets the chance to be part of a travel team.
I cannot tell you how electric these games are, it is something that has to be experienced. Your athlete gets an opportunity to play against other athletes from an entirely different region. There are college coaches and scouts, some from your kids favorite schools, sprinkled around the game sites watching for who they think will be the next big deal... Quite possibly it could be your kid.
Are you broke too?
This morning a work colleague stopped and asked my husband if we were broke from all the expenses associated with our childrens sports. My husbands response, "Yes, we are. Be prepared because for you it has only just begun." His sons are in the 4th and 6th grade, ours are in the 9th and 10th. The fees to purchasing the equipment (sneakers, heat gear, cold gear, and so on) can make a parents pockets very light.
Today I am sitting trying to figure out how to cover this years summer basketball and football camps, which are presented as being optional but are truly mandatory. Are you broke too?
Today I am sitting trying to figure out how to cover this years summer basketball and football camps, which are presented as being optional but are truly mandatory. Are you broke too?
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
What happened to all the SuPeRStArS?
Long before my boys got into sports I came across many parents of exceptional tots. I would go to a preschool activity and a mom would be talking about her sons Super League Tee-ball team. In elementary school my boys would come home from school talking about their friends who were all-star soccer players. At the grocery store I would hear parents on their cells discussing the latest shenanigans of their kid's Extra Special Sports Team. There were so many phenomenal athletes around here the football little league program had to expand their 'A team' to three 'A teams.' I have no idea how many Super Teams existed in my town, but almost every parent I encountered had a super duper child athlete. How was it that all these superstar kids lived in my city? Where did they all come from? What was going on that all these future Bo Jacksons and Michael Jordans lived here? For awhile I was surrounded by superstars, all-stars, and everything else kiddo spectacular your mind can imagine. I mean these kids were on the fast track to the pros.
Then my son entered high school and many of the superstars disappeared. What happened? Where did they go? To be honest, I didn't notice their sudden departure right away; probably because my son is still actively playing, and I continued to see many of the parents and the kids around town. It wasn't until I ran into one of the superstar's mothers, Gretchen, at the grocery and had a chance to talk to her that I realized many of the All Stars were no longer playing. Our conversation in front of the deli counter was eye-opening.
To give you some background... Gretchen's son, Matt, and my son played on the same ninth grade basketball team. Matt was amazing. Not only did it appear that he out hustled most of his teammates, scored more baskets, and out defended the fellas, he was also on a Super League team. Every game was sprinkled of talk about him playing on the high school team; which was very difficult to get on because of the high number of students at the school. There was no doubt we were watching a future college basketball star. However, after ninth grade Matt was never seen on the basketball court again. What happened?
I'll tell you what happened, Matt didn't make the high school basketball team; the coaches claimed he fouled too much. He threw out his sneakers and never went out for the team again, instead Matt decided to become a Super Academic and focus on business. No joke, that is what Gretchen told me, except for the Super Academic part. She shared with me that Matt was a fantastic student and had tested into one of the best tech programs in the district. Matt's first 'No' may have ended his athletic career, but not his future of being an All Star and being in the Super Program. When Gretchen and her husband could no longer pay and politic Matt's way onto the team he and his parents gave up and turned their focus to something else.
Maybe that is why my son continues on in sports, he had to play better than the money and the politics and learn how to swim with the big sharks without getting bit. Now that I look at it, in my city not only am I surrounded by Super Duper Teams, I am drowning in EscaladeXLs, big fake boobs, giant wedding rings and flashy designer handbags. Many of my neighbors are facades of themselves, and those facades are covered in super SuPeR SUPER. I guess what happened is the superstars never left they just took their superstar selves to different pastures.
Then my son entered high school and many of the superstars disappeared. What happened? Where did they go? To be honest, I didn't notice their sudden departure right away; probably because my son is still actively playing, and I continued to see many of the parents and the kids around town. It wasn't until I ran into one of the superstar's mothers, Gretchen, at the grocery and had a chance to talk to her that I realized many of the All Stars were no longer playing. Our conversation in front of the deli counter was eye-opening.
To give you some background... Gretchen's son, Matt, and my son played on the same ninth grade basketball team. Matt was amazing. Not only did it appear that he out hustled most of his teammates, scored more baskets, and out defended the fellas, he was also on a Super League team. Every game was sprinkled of talk about him playing on the high school team; which was very difficult to get on because of the high number of students at the school. There was no doubt we were watching a future college basketball star. However, after ninth grade Matt was never seen on the basketball court again. What happened?
I'll tell you what happened, Matt didn't make the high school basketball team; the coaches claimed he fouled too much. He threw out his sneakers and never went out for the team again, instead Matt decided to become a Super Academic and focus on business. No joke, that is what Gretchen told me, except for the Super Academic part. She shared with me that Matt was a fantastic student and had tested into one of the best tech programs in the district. Matt's first 'No' may have ended his athletic career, but not his future of being an All Star and being in the Super Program. When Gretchen and her husband could no longer pay and politic Matt's way onto the team he and his parents gave up and turned their focus to something else.
Maybe that is why my son continues on in sports, he had to play better than the money and the politics and learn how to swim with the big sharks without getting bit. Now that I look at it, in my city not only am I surrounded by Super Duper Teams, I am drowning in EscaladeXLs, big fake boobs, giant wedding rings and flashy designer handbags. Many of my neighbors are facades of themselves, and those facades are covered in super SuPeR SUPER. I guess what happened is the superstars never left they just took their superstar selves to different pastures.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Do I need a card, cloak and/or special key?
What an elusive community the basketball world is where I live. That is probably why it is called a 'Club Sport,' and sadly they don't freely give out membership cards to belong. However, there have been clues dropped to help the regular Joe gain membership to one of the most exclusive clubs around. Perhaps, at this point, you are wondering why belonging is so important. From what I understand if your kid wants to play college basketball they are mostly recruited from a club team (aka travel team). Here is what I have figured out to be admitted to ThE cLUb...
1... Be wealthy, look rich and/or have an affluent sounding last name.
Be wealthy. This is a must! These club teams can drain a parent's pockets dry. I have no idea how all these NBA players can claim they came from a poor household with all the fees and dues that must be paid to play. This is a breakdown of the cost for one team:
$100 Monthly coaching fee
$ 80 Coach traveling fee per tournament (you can have as many as 3 tournaments in a month)
$ 50 Tournament fee for each tournament
$ 10 Daily entrance fee to watch your kid play, this is a per person charge
Maybe that doesn't sound too bad to you until you also add in the traveling expenses for your player and you, if you decide to tag along with your kid. Last summer during the NCAA open time we were on the road going to tournaments for the last three weeks of July. Being that I have three kiddos it ended up being our summer vacation; Anaheim to Vegas, back to Anaheim. That meant three weeks of hotels, eating out, and gas to all the games; thank goodness for the free breakfasts hotels offer. I know of a club team that charges a flat fee of approx $2800 each season per player. The flat charge covers the costs associated with the player and coaches, but not any cheering tag alongs. Once again, if you wanna cheer on your kid you will be paying a hefty cost.
Look rich and/or have an affluent name. Pretty obvious, the club (coach) knows what the expenses are and they don't want to have to be bill collectors. I have not heard of club/team/coach running credit reports, even though I wouldn't be surprised. So how else can they figure out who can truly cover all those expenses other than by superficial means? At the end of the day the coach has to be a bit of sleuth too.
2... Don't look or actually be black.
Yep, you read that one right. I cannot tell you how many coaches, trainers and parents have said to me, "Your kid is black, he has it easy." This statement is usually said with a shrug of the shoulder. Therefore to level the playing field they begrudge them an equal opportunity, at least that has been my experience. Also, the power holders where I live are white and in most instances power=money and money=being able to afford to play. By the way, I never claimed to be politically correct and I won't start now.
3... Be connected.
Where I reside being connected means belonging to the predominant religion. Again, the power holders out here are of a certain religion and power=money, and you get where this is going. Another way of being connected is to actually know someone who is part of the team. If you don't know someone your kid is more than likely not even going to get a real chance to tryout. Once a team posted in a blog that they were having an open gym (open gym means tryout in basketball talk). My friend and I took our boys hoping that they might actually get a chance to tryout. Instead we were met with weird looks and at the end of the session the coach told us to talk to his dad, but his dad wasn't there. We emailed the team and never got a response. I now realize we were TrYoUT CrAsHerS.
4... Have a mutantly TALL kid.
I cannot tell you how many times I have heard, "You can't teach tall." and luckily for my boys they are tall; my sophomore stands at 6'5" and my freshman is 6'2". This is what got one of my sons a chance to play on a club team last summer because we definitely don't fit into the top three. Sadly, there is usually a rich connected white kid who is just as tall or taller. That's what happened to my kid and we lost or probationary card.
5... Don't burn any bridges.
Well, this blog is sure to burn a few bridges and hopefully those burnt bridges will lead our way. Seriously, I have no idea what this means. Maybe I have already burnt a major bridge and because I am not part of the club I didn't even see the bridge I burned.
There are probably many more hoops that have to jumped through in order to make the club, but that is all my wee lil brain has noticed. This afternoon I spoke to a college coach who recounted some of the downfalls to club teams; they make the sport "political," it opens up the arena to unscrupulous coaches, and they make playing the sport very expensive. I guess that is a warning and clue all wrapped up in one.
Now, is there someone out there who can help me find and get the card, cloak and/or key?
1... Be wealthy, look rich and/or have an affluent sounding last name.
Be wealthy. This is a must! These club teams can drain a parent's pockets dry. I have no idea how all these NBA players can claim they came from a poor household with all the fees and dues that must be paid to play. This is a breakdown of the cost for one team:
$100 Monthly coaching fee
$ 80 Coach traveling fee per tournament (you can have as many as 3 tournaments in a month)
$ 50 Tournament fee for each tournament
$ 10 Daily entrance fee to watch your kid play, this is a per person charge
Maybe that doesn't sound too bad to you until you also add in the traveling expenses for your player and you, if you decide to tag along with your kid. Last summer during the NCAA open time we were on the road going to tournaments for the last three weeks of July. Being that I have three kiddos it ended up being our summer vacation; Anaheim to Vegas, back to Anaheim. That meant three weeks of hotels, eating out, and gas to all the games; thank goodness for the free breakfasts hotels offer. I know of a club team that charges a flat fee of approx $2800 each season per player. The flat charge covers the costs associated with the player and coaches, but not any cheering tag alongs. Once again, if you wanna cheer on your kid you will be paying a hefty cost.
Look rich and/or have an affluent name. Pretty obvious, the club (coach) knows what the expenses are and they don't want to have to be bill collectors. I have not heard of club/team/coach running credit reports, even though I wouldn't be surprised. So how else can they figure out who can truly cover all those expenses other than by superficial means? At the end of the day the coach has to be a bit of sleuth too.
2... Don't look or actually be black.
Yep, you read that one right. I cannot tell you how many coaches, trainers and parents have said to me, "Your kid is black, he has it easy." This statement is usually said with a shrug of the shoulder. Therefore to level the playing field they begrudge them an equal opportunity, at least that has been my experience. Also, the power holders where I live are white and in most instances power=money and money=being able to afford to play. By the way, I never claimed to be politically correct and I won't start now.
3... Be connected.
Where I reside being connected means belonging to the predominant religion. Again, the power holders out here are of a certain religion and power=money, and you get where this is going. Another way of being connected is to actually know someone who is part of the team. If you don't know someone your kid is more than likely not even going to get a real chance to tryout. Once a team posted in a blog that they were having an open gym (open gym means tryout in basketball talk). My friend and I took our boys hoping that they might actually get a chance to tryout. Instead we were met with weird looks and at the end of the session the coach told us to talk to his dad, but his dad wasn't there. We emailed the team and never got a response. I now realize we were TrYoUT CrAsHerS.
4... Have a mutantly TALL kid.
I cannot tell you how many times I have heard, "You can't teach tall." and luckily for my boys they are tall; my sophomore stands at 6'5" and my freshman is 6'2". This is what got one of my sons a chance to play on a club team last summer because we definitely don't fit into the top three. Sadly, there is usually a rich connected white kid who is just as tall or taller. That's what happened to my kid and we lost or probationary card.
5... Don't burn any bridges.
Well, this blog is sure to burn a few bridges and hopefully those burnt bridges will lead our way. Seriously, I have no idea what this means. Maybe I have already burnt a major bridge and because I am not part of the club I didn't even see the bridge I burned.
There are probably many more hoops that have to jumped through in order to make the club, but that is all my wee lil brain has noticed. This afternoon I spoke to a college coach who recounted some of the downfalls to club teams; they make the sport "political," it opens up the arena to unscrupulous coaches, and they make playing the sport very expensive. I guess that is a warning and clue all wrapped up in one.
Now, is there someone out there who can help me find and get the card, cloak and/or key?
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Can I Get Some Practice Pants Too?
What am I doing?
I have no idea what I am doing and as an added bonus I am not the best at technical writing. If my sister-in-law saw this she would probably pull her hair out in frustration for my lack of writing skills. However, this is something I have been thinking about doing for several years. Being thrust into a boys club where I don't have a membership card, and lack the qualifications to belong has been daunting. Navigating the in's and outs, the lies and truths, and the coaches from the wannabes, has been eye opening and along the way I have had to write my own map. My map is still being written and I will probably fall in many more holes and drag my kiddos in with me before this adventure is over. "What am I doing?" is an internal dialogue I have with myself daily, if not multiple times a day...
How am I doing?
I have no idea how I am doing. Sometimes I think we are on the right track and other days I just wanna fall to my knees and shake my fist at the sky. My kids have goals, at least that is what they tell me, and I want to be supportive of those goals; but are they really their goals or offshoots of the goals I have for them? I want/need for my kids to go to college and excel. When I look at my college experience compared my husband's (he was a college athlete) it seems like his was so much better. When he entered a class the teacher and other classmates wanted him there. That's what I want for my kids, to be wanted and adored by many, it can make the college experience so much easier. How am I doing? I have no freakin clue and probably won't until my children are adults and I hear all their complaints. Hopefully I won't have to hear those complaints in a therapist office, on a talk show, or from their bedroom in my basement that they share with their spouse and four kids...
Why am I doing this?
Why am I writing this blog? or Why am I subjecting myself to these coaches (and loony parents)? I can answer both questions with one answer... It's complicated. Ha! Not really. Well, maybe it is.
I think I am writing this blog because I couldn't find one and I need a sounding board. I need to discuss what I am going through. I need to read what others are going through. Does anyone else feel the way I am feeling? My hope is that we (you and me) can work through this together. Maybe you have a better way to do things and you can help me. Maybe there is an instance that I can be your poster child on what NOT to do, believe me I have plenty of those. Maybe together we can make a much better map for the next momma. Hey you next momma, you can thank me later.
Why do I subject myself to all this insanity? Simple. I have active children and I want/need them to go to college. Also, I think somewhere deep inside I am some sort of masochist. I have been humiliated and suffered physical pain while trying to be part of this world; and yet I keep on going back for more. Therefore I must gain some sort of pleasure from it, the classic definition of a masochist. Ya, you read that right. Physical pain, everything from falling because I wore the wrong foot wear to having a stroke in the middle of my son's game. I will probably share those stories along the way...
Will this make thing I am doing make any sense?
Probably not all the time. How can it? I have three kiddos of my own plus I am taking care of my niece and nephew. That is a combined total of... 3 (plus or minus one at any time) basketball teams, 1 Tae-Kwon-Do class, 1 vocal coach, 1 soccer team, 1 football team, 2 basketball classes, 2 personal trainers, 1 personal basketball coach, 2 gymnastics classes, 1 dance class, a vast number of parents, and one very tired minivan. Should I mention that I now have a budding actor who just booked his first movie? No joke. Right now my life isn't making much sense, so why would this blog?
At the end of the day all I really want is my own pair of practice pants. It seems like my kiddos get the opportunity to put on some practice pants and actually practice. Yet, I am suppose to always be wearing my game pants. There are days when I could really use some direction, some constructive criticism, someone to rush out on the field and ask if I am okay, someone to cheer me on... And other days I need someone to blow a whistle and tell everyone around me to 'StEp BaCK!'
I have no idea what I am doing and as an added bonus I am not the best at technical writing. If my sister-in-law saw this she would probably pull her hair out in frustration for my lack of writing skills. However, this is something I have been thinking about doing for several years. Being thrust into a boys club where I don't have a membership card, and lack the qualifications to belong has been daunting. Navigating the in's and outs, the lies and truths, and the coaches from the wannabes, has been eye opening and along the way I have had to write my own map. My map is still being written and I will probably fall in many more holes and drag my kiddos in with me before this adventure is over. "What am I doing?" is an internal dialogue I have with myself daily, if not multiple times a day...
How am I doing?
I have no idea how I am doing. Sometimes I think we are on the right track and other days I just wanna fall to my knees and shake my fist at the sky. My kids have goals, at least that is what they tell me, and I want to be supportive of those goals; but are they really their goals or offshoots of the goals I have for them? I want/need for my kids to go to college and excel. When I look at my college experience compared my husband's (he was a college athlete) it seems like his was so much better. When he entered a class the teacher and other classmates wanted him there. That's what I want for my kids, to be wanted and adored by many, it can make the college experience so much easier. How am I doing? I have no freakin clue and probably won't until my children are adults and I hear all their complaints. Hopefully I won't have to hear those complaints in a therapist office, on a talk show, or from their bedroom in my basement that they share with their spouse and four kids...
Why am I doing this?
Why am I writing this blog? or Why am I subjecting myself to these coaches (and loony parents)? I can answer both questions with one answer... It's complicated. Ha! Not really. Well, maybe it is.
I think I am writing this blog because I couldn't find one and I need a sounding board. I need to discuss what I am going through. I need to read what others are going through. Does anyone else feel the way I am feeling? My hope is that we (you and me) can work through this together. Maybe you have a better way to do things and you can help me. Maybe there is an instance that I can be your poster child on what NOT to do, believe me I have plenty of those. Maybe together we can make a much better map for the next momma. Hey you next momma, you can thank me later.
Why do I subject myself to all this insanity? Simple. I have active children and I want/need them to go to college. Also, I think somewhere deep inside I am some sort of masochist. I have been humiliated and suffered physical pain while trying to be part of this world; and yet I keep on going back for more. Therefore I must gain some sort of pleasure from it, the classic definition of a masochist. Ya, you read that right. Physical pain, everything from falling because I wore the wrong foot wear to having a stroke in the middle of my son's game. I will probably share those stories along the way...
Will this make thing I am doing make any sense?
Probably not all the time. How can it? I have three kiddos of my own plus I am taking care of my niece and nephew. That is a combined total of... 3 (plus or minus one at any time) basketball teams, 1 Tae-Kwon-Do class, 1 vocal coach, 1 soccer team, 1 football team, 2 basketball classes, 2 personal trainers, 1 personal basketball coach, 2 gymnastics classes, 1 dance class, a vast number of parents, and one very tired minivan. Should I mention that I now have a budding actor who just booked his first movie? No joke. Right now my life isn't making much sense, so why would this blog?
At the end of the day all I really want is my own pair of practice pants. It seems like my kiddos get the opportunity to put on some practice pants and actually practice. Yet, I am suppose to always be wearing my game pants. There are days when I could really use some direction, some constructive criticism, someone to rush out on the field and ask if I am okay, someone to cheer me on... And other days I need someone to blow a whistle and tell everyone around me to 'StEp BaCK!'
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