Category Archives: Sports

Everyday He’s Shufflin’: While You Were Out, Spring Break Edition

Ever since he was en utero, DJ has loved to dance. After seven years of saying we should enroll him in a dance class, we finally put him in hip hop and breakdancing last fall. As I saw him on stage at his recital in December, cheesin’ and basking in the spotlight as he popped, locked, glided and B-boy’d across the stage, I was struck hard – deep in my chest – with a feeling I’ve never felt before; one that’s hard to explain. I became acutely aware of and physically plugged into just how happy he was.

After his recital, I ran into his hip hop teacher backstage and, choking back tears, thanked her for helping him find that happiness. I’m certain she thinks I’m crazy, but it’s really hard to describe that feeling of seeing your child personify passion in such a way for the first time.

Fast-forward a few weeks. We had been toying with the idea of redoing DJ’s bedroom for some time. It was themed after his favorite movie as a toddler, Cars. Four years, one sequel and leap into the “tween” phase later, it seemed that we were nearing the time when we should stop talking and start acting.

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A few quick Google searches later and I realized I could buy him a small dance floor that he could practice on, maybe a mirror to watch his technique and, perhaps, some cool art for the walls. Then Scoot remembered a show he’d seen at a local art school where an interior designer had a hip hop-style room on display. He went to the school and inquired about the designer who has since graduated. Less than a day later, I was on the phone with Dee asking if she had any interest in designing a bedroom for an eight-year-old aspiring B-boy. She leapt at the chance.

I thought hiring an interior designer was something only rich people could do, but I quickly figured out that A.) It wasn’t nearly as expensive as I expected it to be; B.) She had a lot of creative ideas for materials and execution that saved us money; and C.) The results would end up being so much better than anything we could have come up with on our own.

We went away for spring break and came back to this (sorry, I had to pixelate some of the pictures to blur their names so you can’t really see the full effect of the graffiti):

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I think he likes it…

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*** If anyone in the Sacramento region needs an interior designer, I HIGHLY recommend Dee. She’s creative, professional, courteous and flexible. Her portfolio includes all sorts of styles, room types, sizes, etc. If you give her a call, tell her Emmie sent you. I didn’t get anything for saying this…it’s just a heart-felt endorsement of her work from a very satisfied client. ***

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There Is No “I” in Fan

I can’t stand fickle sports fans. Ironically, I frequently have one in DJ. He doesn’t mean to be one, he just doesn’t know any better. He feels emotionally drawn to many geographies so I was super proud of his response when, on the way to the Sacramento Mountain Lions v. Virginia Destroyers game yesterday, I asked him who he’d root for. “Virginia,” he said. “Why, because daddy played with their quarterback and was coached by their coaches when he was in college?” I asked. “No,” he replied, “because that’s where I’m from.”

This conversation about which ‘hood he claims goes back a few weeks when he inquisitively asked which rappers were from Virginia as he failed to connect with 2Pac and Dr. Dre’s “California Love” the way his parents do. He moved from the Commonwealth to California when he was just three and, while he’s as much of a Cali boy and the next kid in my mind, he feels drawn to the place he was born.

It’s a feeling I understand well as I moved away from the state of my birth as a toddler and then, again, moved in the middle of elementary school to California. In the years since I’ve tried to figure out what I consider to be my “hometown.” (Imagine the angst when Facebook asked me to make such a public declaration.)

For me, my “hometown” claim as a sports fan was complicated by the fact that, just two months after I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, the SF Giants met the St. Louis Cardinals in the National League Championship Series. I was raised on Cardinals baseball (and football, by the way…why they’re in Phoenix and the L.A. Rams are in my town still baffles me). My earliest baseball memory was being allowed, at a month shy of four years old, to stay up to watch the Cardinals win the 1982 World Series at our townhouse in the St. Louis suburbs. (It’s also the first time I remember my mom being mad at my dad. Heh.)

In the years between then and our move west, my dad took me to Busch Stadium to see the likes of Ozzie Smith and Willie McGee while teaching me how to score a baseball game and heckle an opponent. My pet mouse was named Whitey Herzog.

When the Cards played the Giants, I wasn’t sure just who to root for as the new kid trying to fit in with a school full of Giants fans. Luckily I had little to do with the fate of either team. Yet somehow, I gave myself the leeway to root for the triumphant Cards as they faced the Twins in that World Series, the Oakland A’s as they faced the Dodgers the following year, and then the Giants as they met the A’s in ’89 in the Bay Bridge Series (a series memorable not only for baseball but the earthquake that literally rocked the local fans to our core).

And so, as it has been since, I rooted for the Giants as they made their way to the World Series last year. Now that they’ve imploded, however, I will admit that I “liked” the breaking news from CNN on my FB News Feed that the Cards, my first baseball love, had made it to the World Series (a “like” I gave despite not being able to name a single player from their team.) How’s that for fickle?

But it’s hard out there for a kid…a kid who, for a third of a century, has felt disconnected from all geographic ties of her own. And it is with that experience that I try to cut my own child, a kid who likes the SF 49ers and the Miami Heat, the Sacramento Kings and the Stanford Cardinal, the Scarlet Knights of Rutgers and…the Virginia Destroyers, a  bit of a break as he tries to figure out his own definition of “hometown” and which hometown team belongs to him.

The Three Most Important Rules of Soccer and, Perhaps, Life

When I was a kid, I played soccer at a very competitive level. The girls’ soccer movement was fueled in large part by those of us growing up in and around the best college soccer programs in the country, Stanford included.

Not to sound all egotistical, but I was a leader on my team. Whether it’s because I assumed the role, my coaches pushed it on me or my peers looked to me to step up is irrelevant (though it was probably a little of each).

I had three rules about soccer that I preached to my teammates. They had nothing to do with the strategy or tactics of actual game play, but they were important nonetheless. In fact, I’ve found these rules are applicable to so much of life that I continue to repeat them to myself, my kids and pretty much anyone who will listen.

RULE #1: You have to look good to be good.

Now, I don’t mean this literally but I take this rule quite seriously. The way we present ourselves to the world says a lot about us, both in our own minds and to those we encounter.

On my soccer teams, I was constantly lobbying for the coolest-looking uniforms and warm-ups. Before my team got with the program, I distinctly remember showing up at games and watching the other teams donned in identical warm-up suits that made a symphony of swooshing sounds as 36 legs warmed up in unison for the game. I watched the faces of my teammates as they’d get intimidated by these teams for what reason? Because they were matching?!?! Why did that matter? Well it’s not as silly as it sounds.

Soccer is a team sport. The synchronization of an identically-dressed team says something, perhaps, about their team play, their passing abilities, their chemistry. I quickly became a stickler for how we looked. Jerseys were to be tucked in. Socks folded. Warm-ups on. No random college sweatshirts that messed up our uniformed look. We were a unit. We needed to look like one.

For myself, I always made sure my uniform was clean and ready to go. I’d never wear dirty socks, even if that meant staying up late the night before a game to do laundry or buying a couple extra pairs. I also insisted that my team find a laundromat to wash our uniforms when we had overnight tournaments.

This works. You know it does. When you go to an important meeting, a job interview or a night on the town, I bet you try to wear your favorite power suit or most flattering outfit. When we look good, we are confident. When we are confident, we perform better. Of course that doesn’t mean you’ll win every game or land every job but seriously, how often do you see someone who is dumpy and/or insecure excelling? Yeah, I thought so.

RULE #2: Do not tell me how hard you tried. Show me your socks.

Soccer players are required to wear long socks over their shin guards. Nothing would drive me crazier than playing on a muddy field and seeing a teammate leave the game with clean socks. Really? Seriously? I’m covered from head to toe in mud and your white socks are clean?!?! Get off of my field!

We all go through phases where we’re challenged. I’ve gone through periods when I have had to be up at 5 am for conference calls or work until midnight or later and so have most of the people I’ve worked with over the course of my career. But do not tell me you’re overwhelmed with work when you leave at 5 pm and don’t turn on your Blackberry or laptop until you’re back the next day at 9:30 am. If you’re going through a challenging time, do not even consider complaining to me until you show me your socks.

My dad told me during my first year of “real” work that I should never ask for a promotion until/unless I’ve done the work of the higher position for at least six months. I have to dirty my socks.

RULE #3: If you miss a penalty kick, you didn’t deserve to take it.

Penalty kicks are not particularly common in soccer but they can make all the difference in a game. When, in the event of a tie, a game goes into PKs (5 kicks per team, whoever makes the most wins), one miss can be the difference between winning and losing. It’s one of the few plays where the score and the outcome can be changed by just one player.

A PK favors the kicker. Statistically speaking it should be a gimme. The best goal keepers in the world fail to block PKs all the time. If a kicker doesn’t make it, it’s because the kicker messed up. It’s not because the goalkeeper was just too good.

We all mess up. Sometimes, especially on a team, we deserve to share the blame with or deflect it onto others. But sometimes our mistakes are our own. Sometimes we have no one to blame but ourselves. We would be wise to learn how to tell the difference. When we act like the victims and yet we were the kicker, we lie to ourselves, we lie to our teammates, we weaken ourselves and our team. Sometimes we just need to admit when we didn’t deserve to take the kick.

Eat.Blog.Run. Live Blog

Saturday

10:07 am Stopped off at Michaels to get car paint for our “vans,” GMC Acadias lent to us by our friends at GM. Hitting the road to Napa!

2:44 pm Waiting at the relay point between our second and third runners (Meg and Kari). I’ve been driving so far but am giving up the keys so I can prep for my first leg. (I see Meg!)

9:34 pm Finally eating. Ran my leg in 90 minutes on the dot. Too tired to write about it but it was uphill and hard. I kicked ass on the first 4 miles. Last 3 had a lot of walking on the steep hills. Overall, I’d give myself a B+ for effort (have to save some energy), an A- for pace. Must eat. Must sleep. Should be running around 5 or 6 am.

10:56 pm zzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

Sunday

2:10 am Van 2 is up and “breaking camp.” We got a decent amount of sleep at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. We were lucky to be on grass. People are sleeping everywhere including on the sidewalks.

2:25 am Van 1 has arrived at the relay point. Linsey is running over the bridge right now. Then Carrie is off and at it again.

4:41 am Waiting to give Meg some water on Skyline. I’m pretty tired. Just keep telling myself this next run will be a short one. Then we’ll head back to the hotel to sleep. We’re a good hour behind our projected pace (at least).

7:59 am Just finished my second leg. It was labeled as “Easy,” which was true for the first mile and the last .7 miles which were downhill. The two miles in between were uphill. My left knee can’t handle up. Happy with my pace though at 11:15.

11:30 am I filled my belly, got my stuff ready for leg 3 and am settling in for a quick nap. Alarm set for 12:30 pm. :(

12:42 pm Getting ready to head out again. Forgot to mention that the uphill yesterday had a ridiculously strong headwind in addition to the crazy incline. Hoping that the winds will have mercy on me this afternoon. I talked to my dad earlier and it looks like my parents will be making it out for my last leg so I’m SUPER excited.

4:32 pm We’ve decided to “leap frog” the last set of legs so we have two runners going at a time. Should be done in the next two hours or so. I’m the next runner to leave for a 6.2 mile “very hard” leg. Hold me.

7:41 pm We’re done biatches!!! My last leg was brutal. Again I did it in exactly 90 minutes. It had some nice downhills in the beginning (after going straight uphill through a quarry) which I tried to really move on. I ended the first two miles really fast and continued to unleash on the downhills where I could because I knew what was coming: the last two miles were straight uphill and a whole lot of ouch on my hurting left knee. They suuuuuuucked. But my sister showed up with my nephew to cheer me on and my teammates were shaking their booties as I ran by. I ended up sprinting the last bit with my nephew which was fun and made me run a whole lot faster than I would have otherwise. So glad to be done. So happy to have met all these awesome ladies. Now, to eat.

10:16 pm Back at the hotel and so exhausted. We have to clean out the GMC Acadias that were generously loaned to us by GM. One of the great features is the oodles and oodles of storage space. Unfortunately for this tired lady that means more places to clean out.

Monday

7:20 am I finally went to sleep after midnight last night and got up bright and early to bring Brenna to the airport. The first thing I noticed when I moved was my shoulders being lightly sore, then my knee pain, the overall light soreness. I say “lightly sore” because I know that today I’ll feel nowhere nearly as painful as I will tomorrow. I just picked up a coffee and some breakfast and am then heading to my favorite spa for a massage courtesy of my mom. She so rocks for letting me use one of her gift certificates for it. I. Can’t. Wait.

10:44 am Done with one hour deep tissue massage. I should have gone for 90 minutes. I’m hoping to get to my chiropractor for an adjustment this afternoon. The massage therapist said my IT band is inflamed which could explain the knee pain. She WORKED my hips, hamstrings and calves. It hurt but in a good way. If you do activity and then get a massage afterwards, I STRONGLY recommend deep tissue. Regular Swedish massages just don’t go deep enough. Now to drive home and pick up my boys from school. I miss them mucho.

Though this is my last entry in my live blog, this weekend has given me much I want to write about so look for more soon.

**Disclosure: GM provided us with two GMC Acadias for the weekend and bought us dinner on Friday. Our hotel was provided complements of Country Inn and Suites in Sunnyvale, CA. I was not asked to post about my experiences with either company and received no other compensation. I am grateful for all of our sponsors who can be found at Eat.Blog.Run.**

The Party Is Just Beginning – Eat.Blog.Run.

I had a conference call on our drive home yesterday…one that wasn’t for work!!! (Thank Gawd!) In fact, the call was with a number of my Eat.Blog.Run. teammates. Together, we’ll be eating, blogging and running our way through 200 miles of the San Francisco Bay Area as we “compete” (I use that term loosely) in The Relay.

The race starts in Calistoga and finishes in Santa Cruz. My legs are 7.1 miles in Marin County, 3.7 miles in San Mateo County and 6.2 miles in the Santa Cruz Mountains. The race as a whole will take us around 33 hours, give or take, starting at 7 am on Saturday, May 1st and ending the afternoon of Sunday, May 2nd. DUDE, THAT’S THREE WEEKS AWAY!

I’m nervous that I’m slightly out of my mind, but mostly I’m excited, especially after talking to my teammates today. They’re an awesome group of bloggers.

But I could use your help. Here’s how:

1. If you’re in the area, come cheer us on! You’ll find a map of the routes at the link above. I’m running legs 11, 23 and 35 but all of my teammates would love the encouragement.

2. Follow us on Twitter to watch us freak out over our last three weeks of training and be part of our team as we tweet our way across the finish line.

3. Ditto on the official Eat.Blog.Run. blog. We love comments like, “You can do eeeettt. You can do eet ALL NIGHT LONG,” because, well, we’ll be running all night long.

4. If you or someone you know wants to support us as a sponsor, let me know. We could use things like water, food and snacks, etc. for the days of the race. We’d be happy to show our gratitude by acknowledging your support.

5. If you’re a member of DailyMile, follow me over there as I wrap up my training for this crazy race.

I’m amped. I can’t wait to tell you how it all goes!

Your Child, Football, the NFL, and You

Last night, I watched Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel about head injuries in football and I just need to go off for a minute.

For those of you not following this issue closely, here’s the quick rundown on why you may care: hits to the head in football, even football played by cute little five-year olds, may exacerbate or be responsible for a host of very serious medical problems. There are two potential sources – not necessarily mutually exclusive – of these problems: 1.) Multiple concussions, especially concussions that aren’t allowed to heal properly; and 2.) Repetitive brain injuries from hundreds and thousands of not particularly hard hits to the head.

To date, the focus of this debate has been on former NFL players some of whom, along with their doctors, have come to suspect that concussions played a role in everything from severe depression and chronic headaches to dementia and early onset Alzheimer’s. I call it a debate because, until recently, it was the position of the NFL’s leading expert on this matter that these doctors and players were wrong. To their credit, the NFL has since begun taking steps to change their policies and educate the public about head injuries.

BUT, and here’s where my rant comes in, we are all fooling ourselves if we, as parents, believe that injuries to the head are only a problem when caused by a profession-on-professional hit. Players at all levels, all the way down to kindergarten – kids who are still required to be in booster seats when driving in a car – are knocking heads with other kids over and over and over and over and over and over again.

Why am I picking on parents? Well, for a few reasons. We throw our kids into sports thinking they have to get in early to be good, or we want to let them do what their friends are doing, yet we don’t know the basics about how to protect them. We’re talking about a period of time when their brains are rapidly developing. Yet the most important time for kids to learn the fundamentals of how to hit is early in their football careers, well before they’re being taught by professional coaches supported by a staff of trainers and doctors. More often than not, young children are being coached by one of us, a volunteer parent coach.

I’m not knocking volunteer coaches, but I have seen and heard of too many amped up men, some former high school football players, others who have never played the game, who get all riled up when an 11-year-old lands a hard hit on an opposing player. As the kid runs back over to the sideline he is patted on the helmet and told, “Good job.” This? Is not a good thing.

I’ve had other mothers say to me, “Well, that’s just the sport,” or “Your kid can get hurt playing soccer too.” All totally true. Heck, I broke my shin playing soccer and I was wearing shin guards. And yet it still doesn’t absolve us from doing what we can to protect our children. (Not to mention the fact that a broken shin, to me, is nowhere near brain damage in terms of injury severity…and a broken shin HURTS!)

So what’s a parent to do? Here are a few tips:

  • Think before putting your child in a tackle football league. Don’t just do it to keep up with the Joneses. Why are you doing this? What is your motivation? Are you keeping your child’s best interest in mind? (I know these are tough questions, but they’re important.)
  • Don’t assume that size matters. I’ve heard parents say that their kid is “big, so he’ll be ok,” or “too small to play.” Size is not always the issue. If repetitive hits to the head cause brain damage, that doesn’t necessarily mean those hits have to be hard or disproportionate to your child’s size. Two big children or two small children hitting one another in the head may be just as dangerous over the long run.
  • If you’re not willing to give up your dream of your kid someday playing in the NFL, keep them in touch or flag football as long as possible. If, in fact, the cumulative effect of a lifetime of hits to the head is a cause of long-term health problems, postponing – and therefore reducing the total number – of hits to the head can’t hurt. Sure, there is still risk of other types of injuries in touch or flag football, but the risk of these hit-related injuries would go down dramatically.
  • Before you sign your child up for tackle football, research the league’s policy on training coaches in the proper ways to hit and tackle. Find out what, if anything, they require with regards to medical professionals at practices and games. Do not sign your child up for a league that isn’t protecting his or her health and safety.
  • Talk to the coach about his or her philosophy on teaching safe tackling. Drop by a practice or two to make sure you’re comfortable with the coach’s approach. Do not allow your kid to play for a coach that is more interested in hitting hard and/or often than teaching the fundamentals of the game and protecting your child.
  • Make sure all equipment given to/purchased for your child fits well. Follow manufacturer instructions and try to purchase from a sporting goods or specialty store where they’ll do a fitting.
  • If your child gets hit hard, insist that he or she sit out the rest of the game and be sure to get him or her seen by a medical professional.
  • Educate yourself about proper diagnosis and treatment of concussions. Adhere to all of your doctor’s orders regarding recovery times.
  • Be your child’s advocate. If you aren’t willing to do it, who will be? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be a wet blanket than be spoon-feeding my 50-year-old child in an Alzheimer’s care center.

* I am not a doctor and I’m definitely not hot enough to play one on TV. I am, however, the wife of a former Division I football player and mother, aunt and sister-in-law to a group of incredibly athletic boys whose safety I have a very vested interest in; and, yes, I am passionate (read: opinionated) about this issue. 

Setting the Mood

At this point, most of you know that I’ve been working to get in shape with the support of other friends online known as the Shreadheads. In fact, many of us recently finished our first 5K races. (My official time was 32:43.) I’m going to be spending the next few months ramping up for a 10K! The last time I ran more than 3 miles was, well, never. That 5K was seriously the furthest I’ve ever run so a 10K seems absolutely crazy. But, I digress.

A fellow Shredhead asked about what others had in their home gyms, so I promised to post some pics of my setup, which is by no means stellar but does a good job of providing me what I need for not a lot of dough. So here’s a quick tour of my “home gym.”

Location

IMG_3354My home gym is in my garage. I live near Sacramento, California which means it gets HOT. We paid a little extra to get our garage insulated and that seems to help so when it’s 95 degrees outside, as it was today, it’s probably more like 85 degrees in my garage. Warm but not impossible to work out in. And it’s never freezing in there. Cold but not freezing, even when it’s freezing outside.

Cardio Equipment

I’ve got an elliptical and a stationary bike. I’m not a big treadmill fan, in large part because I hate running (see above). But I also like that an elliptical can give you a full body workout. Use just your arms to build your biceps and triceps; use just your legs to build your quads or do it in reverse to build your hamstrings. And it does all this while raising your heart rate and giving you a great cardio workout. Dollar-for-dollar I truly believe it’s the single best investment you could make in your gym.IMG_3355

Other things I LOVE about my elliptical: it’s got a heart rate monitor, tracks distance, time, etc. and last but definitely not least, it’s got speakers and an iPod connection. Woot! Nothing like having some tunes to keep you motivated.

The stationary bike was given to us a week ago by Scoot’s mom when she moved out of her house in San Francisco. It’s a pain to move but I’m looking forward to starting to use it. The stationary bike was my go-to piece of cardio equipment when I was in college. Which is not exactly a ringing endorsement, but whatever.

Weights

I have two weights that I use, a set of 10 lb. dumbbells and a 9 lb. body bar. I really need some lighter dumbbells, perhaps 5 or 8 lbs. but until I get them, I use the 10 lbs. for most arm exercises. If something is too hard for those, then I’ll use the body bar.

IMG_3357We have some other weights as well that I really don’t use including weighted vests, ankle weights and a weighted medicine ball. They’re left over from when Scoot played football in college and worked out like a mad man.

What I really want: a bench. There are some exercises that are so much easier to do with a bench. I don’t need the full rack with it or anything, just the bench. Maybe like this one.

Other Equipment

I didn’t realize how great it was to have an exercise ball until, well, I got one. It can be used for so many things including stretching and engaging your core during other exercises (like military presses). You can even use it as a computer chair and get your ab workout in while tweeting. Bonus! If you don’t have any idea how to use it, I highly recommend checking out Sparkpeople. They have demonstrations of exercises using balls, weights, rubberbands and other equipment or no equipment at all. I’ve printed some of their suggested exercises out and have them in my garage ready for reference when I need them.

My Secret Equipment

For my loyal blog readers, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I love rollerblading. When I do it, I feel like it engages all the IMG_3358muscles in my legs that need working. My parents gave me a pair for Christmas in 7th grade and I still use them. They’re about 15 years old but they totally function, even if they look very 1993.

So those are the pieces of exercise equipment I can’t do without. What are the must haves that I’m missing?

I’m Either Raising a Master Manipulator Or I Suck As A Mother

While we were on our vacation in Michigan, D (our 5 year old), asked Scoot, “Daddy, will you stop being on the computer?” He then repeated the question to me. The next day, the two of us had a conversation about it and decided that while we’re not on the computer all that much, if our kid is mentioning it to us then perhaps we should cut back. Problem solved.

Until last night.

While driving home from registering D from his first soccer league, I mentioned to him that I have a soccer game at 9 pm tonight. His response: “Mommy, I don’t want you to play soccer any more.”

What? Why? I play one game once a week and it’s one of two outside-the-house activities I do (the other being the neighborhood association board which meets once a month for two hours).

“Because I want you to have fun time with me.”

OK, kid, so why don’t you break my heart while you’re at it? Am I really that bad of a mother?

I’ve always been proud of myself for not participating in a lot of non-kid activities. Though Scoot and I both work fulltime, we spend as much time as possible with our children outside of work hours. We put them in daycare near our work so that we could spend extra time on our long commute together. I can count on one hand the number of times they’ve been watched by someone other than one of us…IN 5 YEARS!

So now I’m vacillating between thinking I’m a horrible mother and thinking I’ve raised a total manipulator. Does he know that when he says stuff like that he’ll get his way? Even if “spending fun time with me” means he’s playing in his playroom while I’m doing the dishes or changing his brother’s diaper?

Don’t think I’m being too harsh on the kid…he really does know how to work it. A couple weeks ago he wanted to get “biscuit” (Lucille’s BBQ) for dinner and Scoot was ready to make a meal at home. D turned to his daddy, and said something along the lines of, “Daddy, can we please have biscuit? I’ll be so happy” and then gave him a kiss. Game. Over.

But even so, if a kid says they want more time, even if they get as much of it as you think you can give, shouldn’t you listen? Is spending a few hours a month on your own activities selfish? I’m so confused. Halp!

360 of Sorts

I shredded Monday with the boys. Felt fine. But my father-in-law has been in town for the past two nights. My abs got a workout from all the laughing watching this though:

Learning from Losing

D taking a shot.

D taking a warm-up shot.

Tuesday was D’s last day of basketball class. After a review of the fundamentals they’d learned over the past four weeks, the boys and girls competed in a scrimmage. As one might expect from putting 10 four- and five-year olds on a basketball court, chaos quickly ensued. Despite being called for “traveling” two or three times (the kids didn’t really get the whole dribbling thing…they just ran with the ball), D made a basket and had a fabulous time. He, along with other kids from both teams, proclaimed that they had won the game. (D was wrong. His team actually lost.) His face beamed with pride when he was handed his certificate of accomplishment.

As the kids headed toward their parents on the sidelines, I heard a mom next to me say to her son, “I heard what you said on the court. You said, ‘Everybody won.’ That’s being a good sport. I’m so proud of you.” I nearly tripped over myself rushing to cover D’s ears so he wouldn’t hear the remark.

Why, you may ask? Because it’s not true. Everybody doesn’t win. It’s not possible. And I’m not going to lie to my kid and tell him that it is.

I don’t fault this mom for wanting to teach her kid to be a good sport, but I don’t think I need to tell my kids that “everyone wins” in order to teach them good sportsmanship.

Sports allow us to teach our kids valuable lessons that they will use for years to come. I want my sons to play sports (and not specialize in any one sport too soon) so that they explore their likes and dislikes (which is why they’ll also be encouraged to try other non-sports pastimes); learn discipline, sportsmanship and teamwork; get exercise and establish a healthy lifestyle early in life; and, yes, to learn how to approach victory with humility and defeat with grace.

B getting in on the action.

B getting in on the action.

Should we really be telling our kids that everyone wins, when in life they won’t always win? At some point they’ll probably apply for a job they really want and not get it. At some point their girlfriend or boyfriend will break their heart. All throughout their lives there will be times when things don’t go their way.

I want my sons to be prepared for those times. I want them to know that we have two ways to approach adversity: “we can run from it or we can learn from it.” (Why, yes, I did just quote Rafiki from the Lion King.) How can they possibly learn from something they’ve been shielded from experiencing?

Losing sucks. I hate losing and I’m sure my kids will too. But I won’t lie to my kids about winning and losing. That’s why, when D kept yelling, “Blue team won!” we sat him down and explained to him that the other team scored more points, meaning his team didn’t win. Doing so didn’t break his heart. He’s still looking forward to the next time he gets to play basketball. But we used this opportunity, as we’ll use others, to help him and his brother develop the character that will get them through life’s victories and defeats.
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