Payback's a ...

As a parent, it's hard not to feel that some children reap what they sew.  At this week's soccer game, we had a bit of drama on the field.  My daughter's little team, although primarily made of boys, is not very physical.  We quickly learned that some teams have boys who are much more into pushing and tackling than soccer.  Two boys on the other team were particularly rough, even with my daughter who happened to never be anywhere near the ball.  After several episodes of pushing each other and other kids, the coach decided to separate the 2 boys and put one on the other field.  (All of this carried on with both sets of parents watching in silence).  The boy who stayed on our field continued his physical tactics and resorted to tackling more than a few times.  In one play, 2 of our players tripped over each other and fell.  I guess the little boy thought this was his chance for wrestle mania because he dove onto the pile.  All of a sudden, he screamed and started crying and running toward his mother.  Apparently, one of the boys on our team had bitten him.  I'm not normally a fan of biting but I almost tried to start the wave.  The bite victim spent the rest of the game crying in his mom's lap.  We all seemed to enjoy the game more from that point on.  Good thing my child wasn't the perpetrator because if that mother had approached me, I'm afraid of how I would have responded.  Payback's a ... well, you know.
Mom of the year ...

Dear Roy

I'm really tempted to write Roy Williams a letter and if I thought there were any chance he'd read it, it would go something like this.

Dear Roy,

I am sure in your line of work that you come across many young talented basketball players.  I have heard that there is even a trend to start recruitment as early as the middle school years for promising young players.  I am writing to inquire about the player development and recruitment opportunities that exist for the toddler age group.  My almost 2 year old son seems to have an unheard of affinity for basketball.  He currently sleeps with at least 3 basketballs and wakes up talking about basketball.  He screams "basketball" every time he sees either a ball or a goal and insists on playing if there is a court anywhere nearby (despite his significant height disadvantage on most courts).  He has also developed a love of watching and analyzing games either on TV or youtube.  Luckily, I found the NBA station on TV or we would not have survived the few months between the Olympics basketball games and the coming NCAA season.  I have made it through many a temper tantrum by searching "UNC basketball" on YouTube and playing it for him.  He immediately stops crying the second he says those Carolina blue boys shooting the ball.

As far as raw talent goes, I have no insight into how to judge what is normal vs child prodigy in the arena of toddler basketball.  That is why I am contacting you.  I am hoping you can connect him to someone who can develop him into the basketball player that he clearly desires to become.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't have any ulterior motives.  Sure, I'd love to have free tickets (in good seats) to all the games once he is officially recruited to be a Tarheel.  But the real reason for contacting you, of course, is my son's happiness.  Please let me know if you have any advice for us.

Go Heels!

Sincerely, 

Mom of the Year

Tough little coaches

My husband was out of town this past weekend leaving me home to fend for myself.  Fortunately, I had a great deal of help from my mother-in-law.  Sunday morning, however, we were on our own and I was in desperate need of a work-out.  I decided that a brisk walk with the jogging stroller would be adequate given that I am now just over 22 weeks pregnant.  I loaded the kids up (who were both surprisingly excited about going for a ride) and we headed off.  Both of our kids have loved going for runs with us since they were little, probably out of necessity more than choice.  I guess we trained them well because as soon as we started off on our walk, my daughter asked me when we were going to start running.  Well, I wasn't planning to run, I tried to explain to her 3 1/2 year old brain.  "Run Mommy run," she started chanting.  My almost 2 year old son chimed in with "ready, set, go!"  I felt as though I had no choice but to give it a go.  Otherwise, I figured I'd have 2 screaming unhappy children for my 45 minute walk.  Better to sacrifice a little oxygen to the growing fetus than deal with that!  Even as I started running, my daughter kept asking "Mommy, are we running or walking?"  Toughest coach I've ever had.  She's lucky I don't act the same way toward her when she's on the soccer field ... "Hey, are you playing soccer or picking pansies?"
Mom of the year ...

Win some, lose some

I am officially a soccer mom!  Sure, my daughter is only 3 but she started soccer this fall and I'm as excited about my new role as I am about her playing soccer.  Of course, I have a lot to learn.  For starters, I don't have a fold-up chair to bring to games.  I was the snack mom this week and had to scour the grocery store to find something "organic" and acceptable to other Chapel Hill moms.

Most importantly, I am trying to learn how to appropriately engage my daughter in the games.  For this weekend's game, she was particularly resistant to the idea of going onto the field, probably in part due to the fact that her grandparents and aunt came to watch.  I figured she was trying to soak up the attention of refusing to play so I decided to ignore her.  That didn't work very well since she kept trying to get my attention and I was starting to look like a negligent parent.  What better than sibling rivalry to spark an interest, I thought.  I took my daughter's jersey and put it on my almost 2 year old son, who was more than ecstatic about his new apparel.  I told her she could sit and watch the game and he would play for her.  Well, that was all it took and she was ready and rearing to go.  Of course, I had to force the shirt off my now very unhappy son so she could put it back on.  "My sock-ser shirt," my poor son kept crying.  My daughter ran out onto the field and played the rest of the game while my son cried on the sidelines.  You win some, you lose some.

Mom of the year ...

Running shoes

It's always tough to figure out where to draw the line with toddlers, which I suppose is why people say to pick your battles.  I tend to prioritize my own sleep so if the battle will interfere with my sleep, score 1 for the toddler.  My 21 month old son has developed quite an interesting bedtime routine.  First of all, he screams bloody murder as soon as you try to take his running shoes off at night.  He continues to scream "run shoes" until you put them back on his feet.  At first, my husband thought we should fight this battle and refuse to let him sleep in his shoes.  About 30 minutes into the power struggle, I gave in and put his shoes back on.  That was about 3 weeks ago and he's been sleeping in his running shoes ever since.  Now, his new issue is wanting to sleep in a collared shirt.  I was on the fence on this one - on the one hand, I couldn't see any harm in it.  On the other hand though, I'd like him to have clean collared shirts to wear during the day.  I think I lasted about an hour on this power struggle at which point I decided my sleep was too important and put his polo on.  Can't wait to see what's next on the horizon.
Mom of the year ...

Target practice

Sometimes a split second decision to avoid immediate consequences comes back to bite you later on.  We were on our way back from the beach, about a 5 hour drive.  Who doesn't love road trips with a 3 year old and 21 month old?  I don't.  We stopped for a potty break at a gas station where my daughter proceeded to pick up everything and ask "Mommy, can I buy this?"  My daughter is fairly easily distracted at this point, and I bribed her away from the souvenir aisle with cookies.  However, not before she held up a glow-in-the-dark soccer ball and showed my son, whose obsession with balls has reached an all-time high.  I could feel the temper tantrum rising in him as I tried to pry the ball out of his monster grip.  I then imagined the next 50 miles with him screaming "sah-sir ball" at the top of his lungs.  "Buy the ball now," I barked at my husband.  And we were off without a tear.
Two hours down the road, we stopped for lunch.  My son still had his grip on the soccer ball as he sat at the table eating.  He decided to roll the ball across the table to my daughter, which seemed like an innocent enough game.  I got up to get some drinks when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flashing ball fly across the restaurant, bouncing on someone's plate before whizzing about a millimeter from someone else's head. Needless to say, my son was not happy when we put the ball away for the rest of lunch.

Back at it again

There are very few things in life where recurrent failures do not discourage one from continuing to persevere.  Motherhood is one of those.  Just when I am most worried that I am completely sabotaging two very innocent lives, I find out we are adding a third life into the mix.  Yes, Mom of the Year is pressing on despite the challenges of motherhood into previously uncharted territory ... zone defense.  I know other moms have gone before me, and succeeded.  However, it is my amazing track record that has me most worried about this new adventure (see previous posts).  I am taking bets as to how many hours per day are "tear-free"... yes, including my tears.  The good news is I have started my new job and am no longer a PICU fellow working long hours.  The bad news is I have started my new job and am no longer a PICU fellow working long hours.  Less work equals more family time and while I love time with my family, I also love Monday morning.