You thought you were competitive when you were a kid. You wanted to score that goal, come in 1st place, hit that home run.
Then you became a parent. And the word “competitive” took on a whole new meaning.
Today, you watch as your kid dribbles the ball down the field, approaching the goal. You hold your breath. You clench your fists. You get a brief surge of excitement as you see that he may actually kick it into the goal. In your mind’s eye, he’s already scored!
Then he kicks it out of bounds. ”f@$#” you say, momentarily forgetting that your other child is standing at your side.
I say “you” because I assume I’m not the only one who feels this way. I assume that all parents have this inner crazy once their kids enter the world of competitive sports.
I don’t remember feeling this much anxiety/aggression/anticipation/ when I was the one playing these sports as a kid. No, for me it’s much different now that it’s my own child.
At least, that’s how I feel when I watch my kids play sports. It’s not just soccer. It’s baseball, basketball, TaeKwon Do. It’s watching my 3 grader shoot a foul shot, or pitch to the 4th grade power hitter, or test for his brown belt. It’s watching my 1st grader try so desperately to get on base.
No matter what it is they’re doing, I’m the mom who is yelling out obscenities from the bleachers. Okay, well not really. I generally try to keep the foul language to myself (though, I’m not always successful in that endeavor, as noted above). But I do cheer loudly as I egg my kids on.
Yes, yes I am … one of THOSE moms.
Since I also consider myself a cool mom, I’m hoping my kids don’t find this behavior embarrassing. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to take it down an notch. And for that, I may need do a few breathing exercises before each game. Who has time for that?
But we all have our own brand of crazy, right?
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