Being the good mother that I am, and wanting the best for my
children, I’m always on the lookout for wholesome opportunities that will help
me grow strong, healthy children. In addition to watching their diet, keeping
them safe, and loving them beyond words, I realize that it’s important to
provide them with opportunities to exercise their growing muscles. . .
Therefore, please explain to me why my children spend most
of their time glued to their computers, or reading books, or working on arts
and crafts? I’ll tell you what, it’s time for an intervention, that’s what that
is!
A reality check moment occurred the other day. Googie was
whining to me about how I never let him do any exercise, and how much he loved
to run, and how I never let him go out for a run. When he was done with his
exposition, and after I was done laughing uncontrollably (kids say the darndest
things), I calmed down enough to ask him if he would like to join a cross country
team. His brother was on a high school cross country team that also had a grade
school team. It seemed to be a great solution to this problem.
He was so excited that he jumped up and down, hugged the guts
out of me, and proclaimed me the best mother in the world. After I collected my
guts and put them back in my body, we went to the cross country information
meeting. He liked what he heard, so off we went to get a pair of real
running shoes (real=expensive) and a
couple of running outfits. All the bases were covered. No chance for an epic
fail.
Eager to begin his first day of practice, Googie was dressed
and ready to go. Running shoes. Check. Running clothes. Check. Giant water
bottle filled with ice-cold water. Check. And out the door we went. We showed
up to practice about thirty minutes early so we relaxed under a tree. The team
started to show up. The coaches showed up. Practice began.
Googie had a lot of fun meeting the other kids on the team
and taking part in the ice-breaker activities where everyone introduced
themselves. Then just like that, the coach told everyone to run around the
field to warm up, and a herd of runners took off. After the dust settled, I
looked and saw Googie standing in the middle of the field, all alone, crying.
I
ran up to where he was. “What’s wrong?”
“Everyone is faster than I am”
“That’s okay, they have been running for a while. You’re a
beginner. It’s okay.”
“I’m going to die!” he cries.
“No, you’re fine. Let’s just walk back.”
“I hate running! Why did you make me run? You think this is
fun?”
“Yes, running is fun. You just went out too fast. You’ll be
fine.”
“No! I will never run again! I don’t like cross country. I
don’t like running on the grass. Why did you make me join cross country? I want
to play soccer”
Thinking (or not thinking), I quickly point out, “Sweetie,
soccer is running on grass after a ball.” This rational, statement flipped his switch. Did I say rational? Everyone knows that rational and children don't go well together. If Googie was upset before I said that, then he was completely unhinged at that point.
“You just don’t want me to do anything! You don’t want me to
exercise! You don’t want me to have fun! You like to see me suffer! I never
want to do this again!” He was
hysterical. I would also like to point out that there are not enough exclamation
points in this world to express how that child sounded at that moment.
He was upset. I was upset. After I spent a fortune on cross
country gear, he just quits on the first day of practice. Although I’m a firm
believer that a person should finish what they start, I’m also a firm believer
in peace and quiet. I think that twenty-plus years of practice as a mother have
taught me this, at the least. And ten years of practice with this particular
son have taught me that the probability of a good outcome if I insist he stay
on the team and attend practices, would be zero. Weighing my options, I decided
that he could quit.
Today, Googie is perfectly happy reading his books about
Chemistry, building Rube Goldberg machines, and making a mess in our living room—
while his running shoes sit nearby. His running shoes, very expensive
knick-knacks, go really well with the décor in that room right now. Trés Chic!
