DC Metro Moms

Life Cycles Big and Small

Life cycles are events that mark major moments in our lives.  My daughter's next big “event” will be her bat mitzvah in eight years and I am putting in black and white now that she will not have the "wedding" (aka- over the top, need a second mortgage) equivalent of a bat mitzvah party.  It is a big deal for sure, but being thirteen does not entitle her to an event fit for a queen.  In the meantime, I wonder about the smaller events that mark the transitions as she gets older and it occurs to me that in the span of the next few months we are going to hit some MAJOR small events that, at least in this moment, seem HUGE. 

Now, you may wonder, what small events could rank up there with the coming of age.  In our case, there are three:  a loose tooth, the transition to a big girl bike (think two wheels instead of four) and then, becoming a kindergartner!  It is true, I think that these may be more important to us as adults than they are too her (especially the bike—she is not all that excited about moving to a bike without training wheels)….but for me, suddenly my little girl seems SO much bigger.  As I try to prepare for these events I have to admit that for a few brief moments I merged these two events. I am embarrassed to admit it, but as I hit the trail this morning for a run, I had the idea that maybe the big girl bike could be from the tooth fairy.  Yes, I came to my senses pretty quickly, (I blame my runners high)….and realized that this might just set a bad precedent.

Cross another item off The List

Remember that list you created before you had kids?  The list of all the things YOUR kids would never do?  (Some of the things on my list were Eat Fast Food, Watch TV and Play Video Games.)  And then, you had kids and one by one started crossing things off The List - realizing that real life with kids is a lot more complicated than the one you imagined.

My oldest was 4-months old the first time he sucked the salt off a McDonald's french fry.  That was the first thing I crossed off The List.  Then, I discovered that the only way to get him to eat breakfast and get dressed was if he could watch Teletubbies at the same time.  (Yes, they're freaky, but I would never have gotten to work on time without those puffy, colored aliens.)

Eventually, you figure out your actual parenting groove and the things that are absolutes for you.  And they usually aren't the things you thought they would be.

One of the things on my list was No Travel Sports.  I was flabbergasted at the amount of time and money that people we know put into their kids' sports teams.  Thousands and thousands of dollars.  Airplanes, hotels and weekends on the road traveling to tournaments all over the country.

Soccer dad gave a damn. He just gave the wrong kind of damn.

I've been a soccer mom for a while. I've got the minivan, and the mileage, to prove it.  Both of my sons play travel soccer in a fairly competitive DC area league. One of the requirements for teams in the league is to assign a Team Sportsmanship Liaison AKA The TSL. The TSL is responsible for their own team's spectator sidelines. The reason the TSL exists is so no parent acts a fool coaches can focus on coaching.  Some teams have a different person perform the duties of TSL and other teams, like the ones my sons are on, have a designated TSL for the entire season.  Given that the TSL is supposed to be "the cooler head should sideline behavior behavior become extreme" when my older son's team moved to this more competitive league, his coaches asked if I would be the TSL for the team and they buttered me up with, "Devra, you're a social worker you are come already equipped to handle conflict and crisis." Well, when it's put that way, it is sort of difficult to insist "No, I'm not the right person for this." So yeah, I became the TSL for the team and have been for the past 4 years.

So far for my older son's team, I've only had one instance where I had to rock my orange TSL badge and deal with a parent gone wild-- a dad yelling instructions from the sideline to his son on the field. An action which is not permitted during any league game as doing so could potentially impact the outcome of the match, not to mention confuse a player who must then decide, "Do I listen to my coach or listen to my folks?"  This is a big no-no.

"Coach" Behaving Badly

Dear Rabid Soccer Dad, 

Your son plays recreational soccer and I am pretty sure that you enjoy watching him play soccer. You have gone step further and you also coach his team. While this is an admirable thing for you to do (community service always gets high marks in my book), YOU are the reason that some kids quit playing group sports. You turn what should be a fun game (regardless of who wins or loses) and a learning experience (that's part of what the coach is there for) into a caged match battle brawl. These kids are 8 and 9 years old. Maximum participation in youth sports is at age 10, and by age 13, 70% of kids stop playing. The number one reason for them quitting is that "It's not fun anymore."

He has a higher security clearance than the school bus driver. So shouldn't you be able to trust him with your kids?

Being in the the shadow of the capital, one might think every public school within 50 miles of the Beltway would be showing the speech President Obama delivered on the first day of school. A speech delivered in Arlington Virginia. Can't get much more local than that. Well, think again.

Last week my son's elementary school principal sent home a note to all of the parents informing us the president's speech to children will be shown in a couple of days. The note stated it was being sent home in response to several parental inquiries regarding the showing of President Obama's speech to school children in Arlington. It included information for parents who may wish to request an "Opt Out" for their child. The note shared that an alternate activity would be offered to those children who would not be watching the president's speech. I heard my grandmother's voice in my head, "What has gotten into these people?"

Indeed. Something is seriously amiss.

When Is Parental Participation Too Much

It's not enough that I am a "soccer dad", I'm a soccer dad that coaches his daughter's team.

Many of you already know this.you probably also know that I struggle with "balance" issues.  Of course, I'm not talking about being able to stand on one foot... I'm talking about the balance of being involved in your child's life, and being an ever-present pain-in-the-ass parent.

I teach elementary Sunday School at our church.  I participate as an assisting minister every third or fourth Sunday... and my daughter is usually serving as acolyte when I do this (ifyou don't habla The Lutheran, an acolyte is responsible for lighting and putting out candles during the service, and assisting with Holy communion).  It's me who takes her to ice skating, girl scouts, two soccer practices and then coaching the games on Saturdays.  All of this brings me to my dilemma:  When do I cross the line between full-spectrum fathering to being a pest?

The Mother of Superbowls

Being a Native Washingtonian, I am a Redskins fan.  That being said, I wasn’t too excited for the Superbowl. 

I was impressed with the Patriots' record and thought that winning the Superbowl would be a nice way for them to end their season (I'm such a girl).  So I watched the game rooting (albeit not too strongly) for the Patriots to have their perfect, undefeated season.

After reading Curious George and singing a song, I kissed my son, said goodnight, turned off the light and he went to sleep.  Not much had happened in the game downstairs.  So I worked on some stuff and watched the game half-heartedly.

For the Love of the Cowboys

I am a Dallas Cowboys fan. I'll say this as I duck and run for cover. Living in the midst of all these Redskins fans, even when they are having a not-so-good year, is a bit scary. Do I dare wear my Dallas hat to the grocery store? Do I dare put a bumper sticker on the van? Am I the lone Cowboys fan in this sea of Texans here in Virginia? No way. Absolutely no way.

I find it hard to believe that I am the only one. I'm a raging football fanatic, and I've been a Cowboys fan since birth. I might buy into the idea that it's genetic except those stinky Houston Oilers left the state and I never forgave them (they were still a big Texas team when I was little). But the Oilers weren't Dallas - they weren't America's Team. Never were. They left the state and lost my allegiance, and the allegiance of lots of Texans. (And yes, I know they eventually found their way home and reclaimed their heritage, but they're still no Dallas.)

So what is it about this area that scares me out of showing pride in the Boys? Maybe it's because

A Word from the Opposition

Tonight, I am not one of you, for tonight, my blood runs green.

I wasn’t always an Eagles fan.  When I was a kid, my Dad rooted for the Baltimore Colts.  I will never forget that morning in March of 1984 when my Dad was late for work, probably for the only time ever in his career.  He was standing in front of the TV, coat and hat on, briefcase in hand, incredulous that his Colts had vanished in the night, bound for Indianapolis.  That was a tough football year in our house. We found solace in 1986 when the Eagles hired that nut Buddy Ryan.  His press conferences were enough to soothe my father’s wounded Colts heart and our football focus moved north to Philly.

Redskins Reprogramming

As an 80's school girl living a stone's throw from the White House, saying no to drugs was just about as important as the Redskins. Just about.

Being a Redskins fan came as naturally to me as breathing and hauling ass after the ice cream man. Back when we had men in our family, they were all die hard fans. Seeing as though I hung out with the men on Sunday afternoons, due to the cooking and knitting that went on upstairs, it rubbed off very early and heavily. Sundays were sacred: mass and football. Combine them both and it was almost a High Holy Day in our modest middle class abode. Hail Mary and Hail to the Redskins. Amen.