Monday, January 11, 2010
Sometimes, I feel like a bad mom. I have a guilt problem. I really do. It's another part of my mental situation.
We put the eldest in basketball. Jeff took him to the first practice, and when he came home,
"How'd it go?"
"Jamison doesn't know how to dribble."
"I'm sorry, wha?"
"Our son can't dribble. We really really need to help him."
Ya know, I've always said that I don't want to push our kids and make 'em do anything they don't want to do. If they want to, I'll support. If they don't, that's fine. (this has nothing to do with a certain specific someone who pushes their kids to the point of torment, swears their kids are the best at EVERYTHING, is the mom screaming and yelling at the ref when her kids are freaking 4, worst soccer mom like EVER. . . )
Um, guess I got a little carried away there. . .
But on the flipside of that, I want my kids to feel adequate in day to day activities. Bike riding, socializing, hot dog eating, play-doh playing, nose-picking, BASKETBALL.. .
So we've been practicing in the basement. Chest passes, dribbling. Walking AND dribbling. It's helped.
That's not to say that my son isn't pickin' dandelions out there on the field. Er, court.
Keep sharp there, son!
Oh my goodness.
Be aggressive! Be Be Aggressive!
Wait a second. . .are you. . . . are you prancing??
There's no prancing in basketball.
Ya know, it doesn't help that the coach calls him "James", and while I do for sure call him that, he doesn't generally answer to that name. Nor that he doesn't wear his glasses while playing, either.
I can't tell ya what the end score was. I can tell you for sure that one of the team's scores was zero. Yes, I said shut OUT. And I can give you a ballpark for the other team. 30's. Maybe the 40's.
But I won't say which team was which. . .
He says he likes it, and that's all that matters. Right?
Posted by Mandi@TidbitsfromtheTremaynes at 7:00 AM