Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Soccer Mom Neurosis: or be excellent, darnit.

1 comment:
I can't help getting my hopes up. My middle guys have been doing ballet and gymnastics and whatnot for like, over a month now. I never did lessons, for anything. That's right, no lessons. My soccer skills and mad dance abilities are just raw natural talent.

I did have a brief run as a tap dancer. I spent most of my 9th year holding on to the bannister in our tile hallway, tapping wildly and randomly to Elvis' "All Shook Up". I just have to stop a minute, and let you take that in. There's just so much.

Ok. My point is, I never did any kind of classes that I can remember, although I probably could have if I cared enough to put down a book and leave the house. And I've never really thought I'd be a soccer mom, because it seemed too expensive and too much driving and such. Then I started haphazardly and occasionally homeschooling Toby, and I realized he needed something drastic to get out his wiggles, and sports around here involves frostbite waivers*. I was thrilled to find a Christian ballet class for Brynn, and then a gymnastics class for both of them.

They're really loving it, and they're doing so well. I think that will be motivation enough to keep enrolling them in stuff seasonally, as long as there's money for fees and such.

What's surprising me is how important it is to me that they do well. I really want them to be awesome at everything. So right now, while they're doing as well as most of the other kids in the class, with the exception of that one REALLY good kid, I can't help getting my hopes up. They can do FLIPS! Maybe they'll be in the Olympics! Maybe they'll be brilliant holy musician athletes that are totally balanced!

It's no big deal right now, but I can tell this might be a thing someday, like if they are good at something and then they want to quit. This is new parenting territory.

*not really frostbite waivers

1 comment:

  1. This has been one of the most shocking Mom things to me...why do we care? Somehow it's a reflection on me if my kid rocks at something? Or if they stink at it? Weird.


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