Tag Archives: parenting

I Can’t Handle the Little League Sidelines

Posted on by
7
Parents viewing a little league game

Parents Viewing a Little League Game

Little league Baseball season is upon us and today is the first day of a home and home series. The visiting team is Mom in the Muddle. Karen is the coach, eh blogger, at Mom in the Muddle.

She blogs about stumbling through parenthood at Mom in the Muddle. She writes, edits, parents, and whips up last-minute dinners while trying to survive her kids’ math homework.

I enjoy Karen’s blog very much and look forward to each post. So after reading her post here, make sure to go check out Mom in the Muddle.

—

I Can’t Handle the Sidelines

I’m pretty sure it was one of the reasons I stopped playing. I knew it even then. In fourth grade, I played softball and I wasn’t very good. When the ball was hit to my patch of centerfield grass, I ran for it and threw it in. I threw it to whoever looked most eager to get it in her glove. Only my aim sucked. My eyes looked at her outstretched hand, but the ball went six feet to the left.

I used to sit in the dugout and pray my turn wouldn’t come up. Standing at the plate, I could hear the parents in the stands. Maybe they meant for me to. “Come on, hit the ball!” They weren’t using encouraging tones. They weren’t being helpful.

As a parent, I’ve sat on the sidelines through enough games and enough sports to know that I’m not cut out for this sort of thing. I hate sitting in the stands, hearing the other parents. My kids are 8 and 11, and I already hate the other parents in the stands. I hate hearing them chuckle when a kid messes up, and not just my kid. I hate the parents who scream at the top of their lungs to their own kid, “Shoot the ball! Get it, Bobby! GET IT! GET IT! GET IIIITTTTT!” I wonder whether I’m going to have to slide over when the guy’s heart attack kicks in.

I hate the parents who forget that these kids are still learning the game, and this is not the big leagues, folks. I hate the coaches who teach the kids to push the rules.

I get angry at the kids out there who call the other kids “asses” and bully them so hard that you have to have a talk with your kid after the game about being the better man and good sportsmanship—when the talk you really want to have is, take that kid down.

I’ve heard parents laugh at my kids, yell at them, and yell at their own during all sorts of sports through the years. I’ve had to get up and walk away.

I’ve learned to sit on the grassy hill to watch baseball games, on the other end of the field during soccer games, and on the floor against the wall during basketball games. I try not to sit with the other parents. One man last year yelled so loudly so often at his son during a game, that I had to cover my ears and finally had to move. My son told me later he was glad my husband and I didn’t do that.

I do a lot of clapping during the games. I clap for my kids and other kids. I talk under my breath. A lot of times I just sit there and watch.

I remember how hard it was to be out there with so many eyes watching. Some kids are naturals. Some kids aren’t. Some kids will work hard at it and get through all that. But they don’t need some jerk in the stands to crush their spirit.

I know I never was a great athlete. I didn’t want to be. But I’ve learned more in the past eleven years about throwing a ball, shooting a basket, and kicking a soccer ball than I ever did during my own childhood because now I don’t have grown bullies bringing me down.

Pic is courtesy of Google Images

Mattress Buddies

Posted on by
23

That’s what SJ and I have been calling each other for the last few days. Actually, he came up with the name. I like it. So, I’ve been repeating it.

Mattress Buddies

SJ & Me: Mattress Buddies

Last week, I had an idea. I asked SJ if he wanted to have a campout. We would blow up the inflatable mattress and put it in the basement. I knew he would enjoy this.

SJ had asked many times if he could play on the mattress. And no matter how nicely he asked, he got the same answer. NO!

He said he would sleep later if someone else was in the bed. I wonder if this need will lead to issues when he reaches his upper teens. Great. Another worry.

Anyway, the blowup mattress had many benefits. SJ would be happy and my wife would have a shot at sleeping later.  Thinking of others – aren’t I swell!

Filling up mattress

SJ filling up the mattress

However, I haven’t told you the whole story.

I’ve been yelling at SJ – a lot. He’s darn cute and can be very funny and sweet, but he pushes my buttons – even more than his brother.

After a day of school and talking to kids who don’t listen, are rude, and act disrespectfully, I am out of patience. I come home and want my children to behave. The last thing I want is more issues with kids.

So, I end up yelling.

I try to console myself. I play, read, talk, and do homework with my children. I am an active and engaged father. Anyway, everyone yells and gets frustrated. That’s life.

I know that’s true. But, something has been nagging at me. I know there has been too much yelling lately.

I raise my voice or make a sudden movement, and my kids flinch. And it makes me feel like shit! Am I so terrible? Such a beast?

I told my wife, and she said the boys are skiddish. I agree 100%. But still, they flinch. My own kids. It’s not like I beat them or am some raging lunatic. I feel like crap.

A fellow blogger, Penny at Authentic Life Journeys, wrote about her issues with yelling at her son. We have been following each other’s blogs for a while. So, I emailed her about the yelling thing.

After our conversation, I decided to sit down and talk to SJ about the yelling. I was nervous. I didn’t know how to approach him. After all, he is seven and happy-go-lucky. Could he talk about something serious?

I was also embarrassed.

Well, we spoke for a while and hugged each other at the end. I promised him that I would try and do better. He promised he would try to be more understanding and not push.

That was a month ago, and we have had discussions on the Sundays since.

“I think it was a little better,” he told me during our first follow-up meeting.

“Really, that’s it? Only a little?” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. That week, I tried to be extra patient and not yell. While I knew there were slip-ups, I thought the improvement was significant.

I would have to do better.

SJ and I have now had four such meetings. We talk privately about how we think the week went and how we communicated (obviously not his word).  One week he told me it was good, but we needed to talk more.

It wasn’t enough to just not yell. SJ wanted us to spend time together, and he felt comfortable saying that to me. This was progress.

Last week, SJ told me it was a good week. We talked and I was mostly patient. It was the happiest I ever felt after receiving a progress report.

—

Yelling happens.  I am not proud of it.  I know that there are better ways to express anger, frustration, and disappointment. I’m doing better. And I am determined to keep striving.

I am already seeing the benefits of my reduced yelling. SJ and I are in a better place.

I’m ecstatic to have my mattress buddy.

Mattress Buddy

My Mattress Buddy

What Do We Owe Our Children?

Posted on by
10

What Do I Owe My Children?“I want a waterpark,” says my seven-year-old son.

“You can’t have a waterpark. Nobody has a waterpark.”

“I want you to build a waterpark in our backyard,” says my seven-year-old son.

“You can’t have a waterpark. Nobody has a waterpark. We can go to one, but we can’t have one.”

He is momentarily pacified.

“I need an iPad and you have to get it for me,” demands my nine-year-old.

“No, I don’t have to get you an iPad.” After several volleys back and forth, accompanied by threats of misbehavior, he eventually calms, though not contentedly.

What do I owe my children? This question has been on my mind since I first read about the Morris County teen who moved out of her parents’ house and then sued her parents in order to make them pay for her college tuition, room, board, transportation, and other expenses. She seems to believe that they have to do this.

Visit the Good Men Project to read the rest of this post

Carpool Buddies, Won’t You Chat?

Posted on by
9
Family carpool.

Strap In Carpool Buddies!

Sometimes I wonder what my relationship will be with my children when they get older. You know when poop isn’t their favorite word and ice cream doesn’t cure everything.

Today’s guest today is with someone whose children are older than mine: my cousin Bonnie.  She and her husband, Howard, have two children ages 16 and 13.

She works as a resident coordinator in a large hospital in Philadelphia. Bonnie enjoys reading, baking and going to the movies.  She also loves playing board games and recently became addicted to some I phone games.

Bonnie was one of my first followers. Unfortunately, she rarely comments. However at every family function she tells me how much she enjoys the blog. Family is a good thing!

This is her first blog post. Enjoy.

—

Do you drive your kids to school?  I do. I drive my teenage daughter and her friend to a school in center city Philadelphia that is 13.9 miles from our home.  We are carpool buddies.

Anyway, the girls sit in the back which leaves the front passenger seat available for my tote bag, pocketbook, box of tissues, and makeup.

The three of us spend 45 minutes together every morning fighting traffic jams, pot holes and obnoxious drivers.  We have lots of time to talk, listen to the radio…. etc.   This has been our routine for 5 years.

A few years ago we carpool buddies found a radio station that we all liked.  We used to sing along, listen to the gossip about Hollywood stars, and try to call in for trivia contests and concert tickets.  Unfortunately, some DJs left and the ones who remained became increasingly annoying.  We no longer enjoyed the “talk” and the music become very repetitive.

The girls’ response was to plug into their personal audio devices (Ipods). I was left to listen to the news or an “old lady radio station” with light rock/easy listening.  I missed the old days when I felt we were carpool buddies.

I missed their animated conversations about who likes whom or what teacher did what.  I missed hearing about the parties they might attend and the outfits they might wear.

They may not have always been including me, but I felt like I was part of it, and felt privileged to have that window into their lives.

Sometimes we still have great conversations, or my daughter will read out loud to us. Yet now, more often than not, there is silence in the car.  The girls are either sleeping or studying quietly, and I don’t want to disturb them.

You should see them.  They are bent over writing, reading, calculating or memorizing.  Otherwise, they are reclining in their seats, snuggled under a blanket and out like a light.

But, I can’t sleep.  I can’t read.  I have to drive!  I get a little jealous…

However, I treasure these early mornings.  I love having my carpool buddies.

Before I know it, my kids will be driving themselves and will have no need for me in the driver’s seat.

Hmmm…It’s not a bad idea.  Maybe next year they will be in the front, and I will be sleeping in the back with my tote bag, tissues, cellphone and other essentials!!

 Photo courtesy of Microsoft clip art.