Parenting is hard and we all make mistakes so don't laugh at this guy

Every so often I am overwhelmed with the amount of responsibility I have for my children.  And not in a "Oh my god, I can't believe how all I do all day is take care of these kids and I can't do it any more!" way but in a "Oh my god, I have so much power in their little lives and I can't screw this up because I don't want them to be criminals someday." kind of way.

It's kind of a big deal, this parenting gig.  You try so hard to do everything right but the fact is that everyone who parents is doing SOMETHING wrong.  We're too cautious, we're not cautious enough.  We push too hard, we don't push hard enough.  We put strict limits on screen time and junk food, we say "Go watch Dora so I can edit some pictures and here's an ice cream sandwich for lunch.  Don't tell grandma."

So knowing that most of us are doing the best we can and that we all occasionally screw up I try hard not to judge when I see parents doing things a little differently than me.  Sometimes though ... sometimes I see parents doing things that make me think "Oh come on buddy!  Are you for real?"

At soccer yesterday there was a little boy on the opposing team who had no interest at all in being there or playing soccer.  He sat down in the grass.  He wandered around.  He picked his nose.  He looked bored.  Every so often his dad would call to him "Come on!  Get out there and play!  Run!  Run!  Run!" 

The little boy would whine "I caaaaaaannn't!" or "I'm toooooo hooooot!" or "It's hard!  The balls don't come to meeeeeee!" 

This was clearly bothering the dad.  He started to get antsy.  "There!  There!  Get that ball there!  Go! Come one! Run!" ( In Elle's soccer program they throw like five balls on the field at a time so that everyone gets a chance to play and kick the ball.  I call it the No Hurt Feelings League.)

Anxious dad got more and more worried as his son refused to play.  He started pacing.  "THERE!  THAT BALL RIGHT THERE!  GET IT!  RUUUUUUUUN!"  All the other parents started to look at him and exchange glances with each other.  A woman near me muttered to no one in particular "Way to have a stroke over pre-school soccer."

All of the sudden anxious dad ran on to the field.  He scooped up an used ball.  He ran over to his kid and said proudly "Here, I got you a ball!  Kick this one!"  And he stood back and looked really pleased with himself as his kid whined his disinterest and sort of took a half hearted swipe at the ball.

Anxious dad started to walk away but then ... he paused.  And picked up another ball to bring to his kid.  And then another.  And another.  And another.  So now in addition to a dozen four and five year olds on the field there was a full grown man running around and scooping up balls.  It was not ridiculous at all.  Each time he would bring his son a ball he look so pleased with himself, like a cat presenting it's owner with a dead mouse.

Now the kid still didn't want to be there or to kick the balls that were being brought to him.  He was just getting more and more annoyed.  Elle started to take an interest in the whole thing though.  She watched for a moment and then a smile spread slowly across her face. 

I don't know if I've ever told you this but I think Elle is part evil genius.  She went over to the disinterested kid and as soon as anxious dad set a ball down Elle swooped in and kicked it away.  She kicked it down the field and then ran back to get another ball.  She kept doing it.  Every time anxious dad tried to give his son a ball to kick Elle would run over and kick it away. 

Anxious dad was not pleased and at one point he looked over at me like he wanted help dealing with my out of control child.  I pretended I didn't see him.  Thankfully the whistle blew soon after and ended the game.  Anxious dad walked off the field.  He was red faced and sweaty.  Disinterested kid remained disinterested.

So, see?  We can't judge. We all make mistakes.  Some of us get totally owned by a feisty red headed five year old.  Some of us sit back and laugh quietly while it happens.  None of us are perfect.

Three years ago today my kids were chums.

The kids are all right

Joseph has been playing soccer for five years now and in those five years he has never scored a goal.  Not a single one.  The fact is, he's just not very good at soccer.  He doesn't have the coordination or the motor planning or really even the attention span needed to be good.  He doesn't really care though.  He doesn't care that me spends half of the game staring off into space and the other half running in the wrong direction.  For whatever reason he likes soccer.

In the past it's been enough that he liked playing.  All the kids he played with were kind of in the same boat.  They didn't really know what they were doing and they were just out there to have fun and try hard.  This summer has been different though. All of the sudden everyone seems to know what they're doing and how to play.  They're aggressive and good.  Really good.  In fact, Joseph's team has never lost a game.  Now in some ways that's great because Joseph feels like he's part of that, that he has something to do with them winning.

In other ways it's not so great.  Sometimes the kids on his team get frustrated with Joseph for not knowing where to stand on the field or flinching when the ball comes by him or for forgetting that he can use his hands when he's the goalie.  It's painfully obvious that his skill level is so far behind the other kids and they aren't always kind about it.  I don't think that they're trying to be mean exactly but they can be pretty vocal when things don't go their way.

As a parent it's hard to watch your child struggle and not fit in.  There have been plenty of times when I have wanted to march onto the field and grab those kids by the shoulders and say "Be nice!  He's such a great kid!  He's funny and smart and kind and interesting and it doesn't matter if he can't kick the ball even it's at a dead stop three inches in front of him!"

Last week my frustration with the situation hit a new high.  Jesse had left work for a while to come to the game and I knew that Joseph was trying extra hard so that he could impress his dad.  If he would get anywhere near the ball someone else would swoop in and take it away.  He never even got a chance even though he was running as hard as he could.  After another kid scored a goal Joseph tried to give him a high five and the kid ignored him.  "I hate these kids, I hate them all." I muttered to Jesse.

I even took it to facebook. "I know that Joseph might not be the best soccer player in the world but he's a really nice kid. That puts him miles ahead of some of the other little shits on his team."

And then, something amazing happened.

After halftime the coach pulled Joseph aside and had him stand on the field near the other team's goal.  He kept his hand on Joseph's shoulder and reminded him to keep an eye on the ball.  And the kids on his team? They kicked the ball to Joseph.  On purpose.  Over and over and over.  Even when they had countless opportunities to score a goal themselves they kicked the ball to Joseph.  Every time someone from the other team kicked it away Joseph's team brought it right back to him.  They yelled encouragement and directions and cheered him on.  This went on for a good five minutes, the entire team clustered around him, helping him out.

And then Joseph scored a goal.


I couldn't really see through the crowd of kids when it happened but I heard him yell "YAY!!!!" and saw his little arms waving around.  When the crowd broke up I could see him hopping around and cheering.  I watched the kids give him high fives and congratulate him and I cried.  Oh how I cried.


I was still weepy when the game ended a few minutes later.  Joseph came over to me (or rather, strutted over) and said "Did you see it Mommy?  Did you see that I made my first goal ever?"


"I did babe!  You did so great!  I'm so proud of you!"


"I'm proud of me too.  I'm also proud of my team because we all worked together and I couldn't have done it without them."


Waterworks again.


Joseph told me that during halftime the coach said they wanted everyone to get a chance to get a goal this year so the coaches are to thank for putting it into motion.  The kids are the ones that really came through.  They didn't have to go along with it.  They could have gotten annoyed with the whole thing and given up.  They could have used it against him and been unkind about it.  They didn't though!  In fact, in the game since then I noticed a big chance.  When Joseph stood in the wrong spot on the field the kids gently directed him to the right place.  No one crabbed at him when he missed an easy shot or let the ball go through his legs as he was playing goalie.


I noticed a change in Joseph too.  He seemed more confident, more aggressive, more like he was really part of the team.  I know that one goal meant more to him than the other five years of soccer put together.  He doesn't feel like that goal was handed to him.  He feels like he had to work for it and that he was just a part of the team that made it happen.  He told me he's never going to forget that moment and I don't think I will either.


And the kids on his team?  Turns out that the little shits aren't half bad.

Obnoxious Soccerous Maternalous

Have you ever met someone who makes you want to scream "GET A BLOG!"?  And not in a good "Hey, I really like what you have to say and you should share your interesting and amusing stories with the whole world via a blog on the internetz" kind of way but in the "at least if you had a blog I could click the little X and get away from your insane rambling" kind of way?

There's a little boy on Elle's soccer team who's mother needs to get a blog.  Or maybe she already has one but she just needs to update it more often.  She seems like the kind of asshole that would have a mommy blog.  (Fun fact - I am also that kind of asshole.)

The woman really, really likes to talk about herself.  The problem is that she's so damned obnoxious that no one will talk to her.  She doesn't let that stop her though!  She powers through! She talks about herself to her kids so that everyone around her will be able to hear her.  She's not even subtle about it or anything.  Her poor kid will be sitting six inches away from her and she's shreiking random facts about her life in an attempt to impress the other parents.

"IF IT STAYS SUNNY LIKE THIS WE'LL GO TO THE CABIN THIS WEEKEND AND GO SWIMMING.  YOU KNOW, THE CABIN AT THE LAKE!  THE CABIN THAT WE OWN!" *looks around to make sure everyone within earshot is impressed even though no one is because this is Minnesota and you can't swing a dead cat without hitting a cabin on the lake* (Fun fact - I do not have a cabin on the lake nor do I endorse winging dead cats.) "I WAS GETTING MY DEGREE IN PHYSICAL THERAPY BUT THEN I SAW HOW PEOPLE WOULD EAT TEN BAGS OF CHIPS AND THEN GAIN TEN POUNDS SO I BECAME A FOOD SCIENTIST INSTEAD!" *glances back to make sure everyone is appreciating how great her non-chip eating, food scientist butt looks in her new capris from The Gap.*

Today in the span of three minutes she yelled how she once coached soccer, that she was a food scientist developing new products ("TO BE SOLD IN GROCERY STORES!"), that she once did a school report on all the presidents of the United States, that she plays piano AND trumpet and that she likes to memorize the scientific names of animals and she's got all the mammals down but that "SEA CREATURES ARE HARDER BECAUSE THEY KEEP DISCOVERING SO MANY NEW KINDS!".

When she got to the part about the scientific names of animals Joseph nearly passed out from trying not to laugh. "I wish I had a phone so that I could text message you what I'm really thinking right now!" he giggle/whispered to me.

Lady, when the kid with Asperger's thinks you're weird it might be time to rein it in a little bit.

So that's what's going on in my life right now.  What's new with you?  (Fun fact - I am terrible at ending blog posts.)

Three years ago today I hated MTV.
Four years ago today I hated Planned Parenthood protesters.
Five years ago today I liked my dad.

Random Monday Musings

I am out of the hospital. It's amazing how much better I felt once I had that flipping tube out of my chest. In the span of five minutes I went from "Oh my god, I want to die but I can't even lift my arm to push the call button for the nurse to come kill me." to "Hey, let's stop at the garden store on the way home and see if they have any pepper plants on sale because I really want some more of them in the garden and oh by the way, does anyone have a brownie?" Literally.

A friend of mine recently told me that she likes to text because she can do it while she's on the toilet. I wish she never told me that because now whenever I get a text from her I can't help but wonder if she's sitting on the toilet.

On Sunday I bought Joseph some marbles and he instantly became obsessed with collecting all different kinds of marbles. Elle instantly became obsessed with what kind of container we would put the marbles in. All the way home from the store they kept up an overlapping montage of chatter. "Then next week I can get the blue marbles! But when we get home we will put them in a container! If I am extra good will you buy me two bags next week so I can get the red ones too? Will it be a big container or a small one? I think I like the black marbles the best but the orange ones are nice too! We need a container with a lid! Marbles..... container ..... marbles ..... container!"

Joseph started soccer last week. While Robby is not on his team (thank you Jebus) there is this other kid on his team who's a real little asshole. Is it wrong to say that about an 8 year old? Even if it's true? Because part of me thinks I should feel bad for saying that but then I see the kid roll his eyes when Joseph tries to talk to him and I not only want to say it, I want to scream it from the mountain top. (If you think I'm being harsh, the little asshole is this kid.)

One of my home-made upside down tomato plants has a tiny baby tomato on it. This caused me to do a small dance of joy. This morning I discovered that some of my pepper plants have tiny baby peppers on them. This caused me to do a small dance of joy. I never think about this stuff at the time but sometimes I wonder if my neighbors ever look out their windows and see me in my backyard gardening and periodically breaking into random disco moves.

Does anyone have a brownie I can have?

Two years ago today I hit a nerve.
Three years ago today we did Hawaii Minnesota style.
Four years ago today I had some thoughts on great Americans.

Wordless Wednesday - Soccer boy

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The Wild Asshat

It's 92 outside today with 100% humidity.* It was so hot that we almost didn't go to soccer practice. Something called me to that field though. Somehow I knew that if I went to soccer practice today I would be able to spot the rare Greater Asshat.

Perhaps I should explain. At every soccer practice I see the more common female Asshat (pictured below with the elusive Elder Asshat behind her) but I have never seen the male of the species.


For a few weeks now I have observed the female Asshat and her behavior confused me. She comes to each soccer practice and then ignores her kid while she reads a book or blabs to everyone within earshot of her how awesome her life is. Then she occasionally glances up at her son to yell at him for not playing well enough**. Naturally I was curious to see if the male Asshat would behave the same way. Today I got my chance to see. My report follows.


Instead of large plumage or bright colors the male Asshat appears to use penny loafers and mom jeans to attract the female of his species. He spent a good deal of time strutting around and yelling into his cell phone about how "his people" would get in touch with someone elses people. Once this was done he turned his attention to the soccer practice. It appears that the male Wile Asshat is an attentive father. He kept up a constant stream of calls to his young and it sounded something like this: "Come on Robby! Get in there Robby! Move Robby! Don't just stand there Robby! Move Robby! Steal the ball away from that kid! Quit slacking Robby! COME ON ROBBY! Don't just stand there! Don't tell me it's hot! It's not even hot out today Robby! Stop slacking Robby! Come on Robby! I've got a really small penis and how else can I feel like a man if my eight year old isn't good at soccer!?!?!"

All this yelling seemed to excite the female Asshat and she joined in with her own cries. "Come on Robby! What? Are you kidding me? You can do better than that and it is NOT HOT OUT TODAY!!"

Several times I caught myself staring at the wild Asshats in awe, my mouth hanging open with astonishment. At one point I seemed to irritate the herd. My own young managed to kick the ball*** and I called out "Good job babe! Way to get in there!" The elder Asshat cackled and said "Those moms who cheer no matter how bad their kids do always make me laugh!" The male Asshat responded with "Yeah, like that's gonna make them play any better."

I strongly considered whipping my water bottle in their direction but just in the nick of time I was able to remember that my parenting philosophy of "Kind and Gentle" does not include letting my young see me lay the smack down on wild animals. Even if they really, really deserve it.

When the game ended the young Asshat (who appears to not have developed into full Asshatery yet (this kid doesn't stand a chance) congratulated my young on a good game. The female Asshat tried to engage me in conversation but I ignored her. I had had enough of observing them for the day. As we walked away my young loudly announced to me "I'm glad you don't yell at me like Robby's parents do!"

Huh. Whatta ya know? Even the Splendid Aspie can spot a Wild Asshat from a mile away.

*How is that even possible? If there's 100% humidity shouldn't the air turn into water?

**One point in her favor is that she's never tried to shoot a booger at me.

***It's possible that he didn't actually kick the ball. It only moved about three inches so it might have just been the wind. He tries though and that's what I care about.

Summer school

Joseph had his first day of summer school today. He has stressed about this for the past two months. He was sure that he would hate it and that it would ruin his whole summer. When I went to pick him up today the first words out of his mouth were "I love summer school! I wish it was longer!"

I knew he would like it once it started. Like so many things with Joseph though, just getting him to try something is the hard part. He gets so worried about things that are new and unknow that by the time the new thing happens he's managed to work himself into a little anxiety attack. We have yet to find a good way to deal with this other than just forcing him into things and then not tell him "I told you so!" when it turns out that we were right and he likes them after all. My boy is a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a pair of shin guards. (10 points for anyone what knows what I'm refering to there.)

Speaking of shin guards, soccer is going well. (Like how I did that?) Joseph is probably the least skilled on his team but I don't even think he notices that. He just loves being out there and playing with his team. It doesn't bother him that he has yet to kick a ball towards the right goal. He's just having fun. The kid burns so much energy when he's out on the field. The entire time he's out there he's running around and windmilling his little arms around and saying things like "Kick the ball to me if you want to win!" and "I'm gonna kick that ball to shreds!". It's fun to watch him have so much fun. He's a cute kid.

Summer soccer

In a hour I am going to take Joseph to his first session of summer soccer. He's really looking forward to it. Normally I would be too because I know how much he enjoys it and how good it is for him. Today though? Not so much. Today all I want to do is lay on the couch and nap, only waking every so often to notice how nauseous I am.

I'm not talking "I have an upset stomach" nauseous. I'm talking "I don't think I'll ever eat again and I can't believe that I've ever eaten before and that box of Reeses Peanut Butter Cup Bars mix that seemed like such a great idea a couple of days ago at the grocery store now makes me gag every time I see it in the kitchen and the only thing that sounds good to me is that jar of Bleu Cheese dressing in the fridge" nauseous. And that's all I'm going to say about that.