postcards for parents

Greetings!

Thanks for all your kind responses and words of support.  I think I'm 
mostly back in the saddle again . . . still a little bit scattered, 
but getting better every day.  Hope you can follow along -- this one 
wanders all over the place:

Last Monday afternoon, my son (he's 10) didn't feel like going to soccer
practice.  For many of you, the response might be very cut and dried -- 
either "too bad, you're going anyway" or "ok, so stay home!"

However, in the world of Karen, it seems precious little is that simple.
 

Complicating factor #1:

that voice in my head that tells me that a good mother would be totally 
clear and unconflicted right now. 

Complicating factor #2:

It was my ex-husband's idea to sign him up for soccer.   It seemed like 
a good idea to my son at the time, as well.  And sometimes for joint 
custody to work I have to give my consent to things that I may not 
necessarily have chosen if left to my own devices.  So I had agreed 
that I would take him to the practices and games that fell on the days 
he lived with me. 

If I followed my natural inclination to let him skip practice, more 
than likely my ex would accuse me of encouraging irresponsibility.  
(bad for me. I hate that.  But I'm working growing a tougher skin.) 

And the next time he went to his dad's house my son would probably 
face the paternal disapproval that he dreaded. (bad for him.  not 
coincidentally, he hates that, too.  same as above on the tougher 
skin thing)  


Complicating factor #3:

I personally can't stand soccer and what it represents.  Oh, the 
running around, the ball, the goal posts, those things are fine.  
It's the competition that I hate.  It's hard for me to stand on the 
sidelines and listen to the 'fans' screaming at their children.   
RUN!   RUN!    KICK IT!    SHOOT IT!      GET THE BALL!    
Do they think the kids forgot what they were doing out there?  
Even as I write this I feel the knot growing in my stomach.  How 
must it feel to the kids?

My daughter also plays soccer, but she loves it and hurries me 
out the door to drive her to practice.  One time I asked her  
how it felt when everyone on the sidelines was hollering like that.
Did she appreciate the advice?  Was it helpful?  She said something 
to the effect of, "No . . . it's like, DUH, I know that I'm supposed 
to be kicking it, it's just not that easy!  Why don't they come out 
here and try it?"  (fruit of my womb . . . isn't she articulate? I 
just love the way she cuts right to the core of things.)

Ok, so back to my story.  My son doesn't want to go to practice. 
In an attempt to play the good mother/ex-wife, I launch into a 
mini-lecture (aren't you glad you're not my kid?  I give way too 
many mini-lectures)  about how practice is what makes a team good, 
and how he made a committment to the team when he signed up, and 
what if all the kids decided not to come anymore, would that be 
fair to the coaches who volunteered their time and energy, blah, 
blah, blah.  I was on such a roll that I did not notice the tears 
welling up in his eyes.  Finally he bolted up out of his seat and 
shouted, "OK, FINE!  I'LL FORCE MYSELF TO GO!", and burst into tears.  

Suddenly I saw that this was not a simple case of practice-itis.  
I backpedaled and asked some gentle questions.  And out came the 
real story.  The competition and pressure were too much for him.  
He was cracking.  Sobbing he explained to me that he has hardly 
any unstructured time to just play anymore.  Soccer practice two 
days a week, game on Saturday.  Homework every night.  At his dad's 
he has Boy Scouts, church activities, and clubs at school.  
Instrumental music lessons were starting any day now.   And 
he was resenting the demands that soccer was placing on him when 
it wasn't even fun. 

Which was exactly the reason why I was reluctant to agree to 
organized sports in the first place.  (translation: see, I told
you so! but I didn't say it.)

Kids don't need organized sports, lessons or activites to have fun.  
In fact, organizing often kills the fun, and it becomes just another 
obligation.  When too much time is scheduled for them by grownups, 
kids miss out on the opportunity to daydream, spontaneously create, 
and relax into imagination.  One of my daughter's friends participates 
in jazz dance, gymnastics, piano lessons, scouts, jump rope club, and 
spanish lessons. She's seven years old.  

In his book The Hurried Child,  David Elkind provides solid 
justification for bucking the cultural trend towards over-
participation in organized activites.  I highly recommend it 
for parents who worry that their kids won't be able to get ahead
in this fast paced world unless they start really early.
 
I won't even attempt to botch that quote from Einstein, but it was 
something about imagination being of much greater value than 
intelligence.    When our children grow up, their very survival 
may depend on their ability to think outside the box they have 
inherited from us. Too many of the educational and organized 
activities for kids reward them for staying in that box.  
(thankfully there are exceptions; alternative schools like Waldorf, 
arts based programs, and more popping up all the time.) 

Personally, I like to think of childhood as a time to be free from 
obligation as much as possible.  My job is to provide a sanctuary 
where my kids can receive nourishment for their imaginations:  
healthy food, quality art materials, beautiful books, hot baths, 
backrubs, and lots of uninterrupted play time.  I schedule as little 
as possible.  We have wonderfully sweet and creative kids next door, 
and I just don't see what could be better than having all the kids 
in our family room making up dance shows to classical music, or 
squealing with delight as they find giant zucchini in the garden.  

But I digress. So, in that moment, I had to make a decision about 
what I stood for as a parent.  Should I make him go to practice 
because he made a committment to the team?  Or because his dad might 
get mad if he found out?  Or just on the principle that it is good 
to finish what you start?  

None of that felt real to me in that moment.  What I needed to stand 
for was the innocence and light and joy of childhood.  And that 
childhood should be a time of experimentation, with room for plenty 
of trial and error.  The only way he could know if he liked organized 
soccer or not was to try it.  And he had.  I was not going to drag him 
in tears to a recreational activity!

So I backed down. I apologized, and gave ownership of his time back 
to him.  I told him I'd take him if he wanted to go, but that I would 
not force him.  And that if he decided not to go, he would need to call 
the coach since that was common courtesy.  He called the coach, said he 
didn't feel up to practicing, and went outside to play street games with
his friends.  Guess what they played?   Soccer!

Later that night we had a talk about learning about yourself.  How not 
everyone enjoyed competitive sports, and maybe he was one of those who 
didn't.  He decided he'd like to try intramurals instead;  it was not 
competitive, participation was optional on any given day,  and it met 
before school so it wouldn't infringe upon his playtime.  I was 
delighted.  All by himself he had come up with an option that worked 
for him on so many levels. 

When my ex heard that his son was thinking about quitting soccer, I got 
an irate phone call.  It was that whole encouraging irresponsibility 
thing.  And I do see how it could look that way.  But I was actually 
(in my humble opinion) encouraging responsibility.  The kind of 
responsibility that I think would do the world much more good than 
obligations . . . the responsibility to know and honor yourself.  
Your strengths, preferences and style.  Your needs, passions and 
triggers.  Because when you grow up understanding these things, you 
learn how to make committments that you want to keep; committments 
based on what intrinsically matters to you.  

After sleeping on it, my son decided he would finish out the season.  
It was his own choice.  Next year he may or may not sign up again.  
He learned some things about himself, and he has shown me that he has 
the ability to make thoughtful decisions.  I've learned that it is 
important to hold a safe space for him to try new things.  He needs 
to be free to decide something doesn't work for him without fear of 
punishment or disapproval.  And my skin got a little tougher in the 
process.

Hmm, all this from soccer.  I suspect these are not the benefits 
they advertise when promoting their program.  But hey, it's never 
too late to change those brochures.

It does appear to lend support to my theory that there's a gift 
available in every situation.  Let's see,  could we turn that 
into a catchy sideline cheer . . . ?   Nah, probably not.  But 
thanks for trying!
 
Blessings,

Karen

p.s.   Want to experience a free sample of coaching about your own 
parenting dilemma?  Call me during my open office hours; Tuesdays 
from noon until two mountain time.  (303) 661-9204  And if you enjoy 
these postcards, please share them with a friend!