So. This is What it's Like to Be Home on a Tuesday
I received a "thank you" email from Philip, my volunteer coordinator last night. After 14 months of Tuesdays at "the office", I now have my Tuesdays back. This is a good thing but it feels a little weird.
The storm systems are giving us a break today. That's a good thing. It would be a better thing if it would hold off tomorrow as well, when we have to haul up to the northend, on the state's most jammed freeway, for a round robin tournement to finish up volleyball. But whatcha gonna do?
The Child went to her practise last night. At first she didn't want to but we had a little chat with Good Coach, who said she was going to come to the playoff game. She asked The Child if she'd be willing to play one more time and she said yes.
I'm proud of her. She's not a quitter. And, in the end and after reading all your fine advice, that seemed to be the fundamental question. Is she going to give up because Coach is a jerk? The answer is a resounding, "nope". Although, Charlie left a statement which bears repeating and which, I expect, will join my repetoire of motherly wisdom, and I'm paraphrasing here: "This is small beer and life is a big brewery". One does have to pick ones battles. And while, in the grand scheme of Things, 7th grade volleyball might not be that big of a deal, it's important to The Child right now so she soldiers on.
Coach did ask her last night what the problem was on Thursday (with me, that is) and she said, "My mom is upset that you don't play everyone fairly". He gave his standard excuse, which is that people who don't do well don't play. To which she responded, "Well, then why do you leave in players like J and N when they mess up?" To which he replied, "Go practise". He's a loser.
Funny thing about the playoffs. Usually, in this league, there are only 2 teams with winning records so they always just face off and that's that. This year they've decided everyone gets to play, regardless of record. Part of me is thinking it would be classic if we were eliminated by a team with an 0-6 record. Serve him right. But our girls are fighters and I'm sure they'll survive until the last round. And then that will be that. Thanks for all your comments and emails yesterday. You helped.
Yesterday was a tough one for The Child. She was suffering from a classic case of "No body loves me, everybody hates me". I found her eating worms when she was supposed to be doing homework and tried to talk to her about it but was rebuffed with the traditional "You don't understand what it's like to be me". No. I don't. I do remember what it's like to be a 7th grader, trying to find your way in the thickets of friendship and self-acceptance but hey, sometimes that's not good enough. Sometimes a girl just has to wallow. It wasn't anything that a plate of ribs and beating her parents at blackjack couldn't cure, though.
This morning she was in a much better mood. She even did her hair and, gasp, put on a little makeup. (I don't know where she learned how to do such a delicate job of applying makeup. Not having worn much myself until I was in my 30s, I sure didn't teach her). She looked very nice. And we talked, calmly this time, about the fickleness of middle school girls and I reminded her that no one can make her feel inferior without her consent (Eleanor Roosevelt) and that the trick is to not seek so much to be loved as to love (St. Francis). Oh, I'm just full of such bon mots. But it seemed to help and she was very chipper when I dropped her at school today.
My little trooper.
Now I must go face things and clean things and watch last week's episode of "Gilmore girls" so I'm ready for tonight. And The Neighbor returns home today from her sojourn in LA. Yippee.
The storm systems are giving us a break today. That's a good thing. It would be a better thing if it would hold off tomorrow as well, when we have to haul up to the northend, on the state's most jammed freeway, for a round robin tournement to finish up volleyball. But whatcha gonna do?
The Child went to her practise last night. At first she didn't want to but we had a little chat with Good Coach, who said she was going to come to the playoff game. She asked The Child if she'd be willing to play one more time and she said yes.
I'm proud of her. She's not a quitter. And, in the end and after reading all your fine advice, that seemed to be the fundamental question. Is she going to give up because Coach is a jerk? The answer is a resounding, "nope". Although, Charlie left a statement which bears repeating and which, I expect, will join my repetoire of motherly wisdom, and I'm paraphrasing here: "This is small beer and life is a big brewery". One does have to pick ones battles. And while, in the grand scheme of Things, 7th grade volleyball might not be that big of a deal, it's important to The Child right now so she soldiers on.
Coach did ask her last night what the problem was on Thursday (with me, that is) and she said, "My mom is upset that you don't play everyone fairly". He gave his standard excuse, which is that people who don't do well don't play. To which she responded, "Well, then why do you leave in players like J and N when they mess up?" To which he replied, "Go practise". He's a loser.
Funny thing about the playoffs. Usually, in this league, there are only 2 teams with winning records so they always just face off and that's that. This year they've decided everyone gets to play, regardless of record. Part of me is thinking it would be classic if we were eliminated by a team with an 0-6 record. Serve him right. But our girls are fighters and I'm sure they'll survive until the last round. And then that will be that. Thanks for all your comments and emails yesterday. You helped.
Yesterday was a tough one for The Child. She was suffering from a classic case of "No body loves me, everybody hates me". I found her eating worms when she was supposed to be doing homework and tried to talk to her about it but was rebuffed with the traditional "You don't understand what it's like to be me". No. I don't. I do remember what it's like to be a 7th grader, trying to find your way in the thickets of friendship and self-acceptance but hey, sometimes that's not good enough. Sometimes a girl just has to wallow. It wasn't anything that a plate of ribs and beating her parents at blackjack couldn't cure, though.
This morning she was in a much better mood. She even did her hair and, gasp, put on a little makeup. (I don't know where she learned how to do such a delicate job of applying makeup. Not having worn much myself until I was in my 30s, I sure didn't teach her). She looked very nice. And we talked, calmly this time, about the fickleness of middle school girls and I reminded her that no one can make her feel inferior without her consent (Eleanor Roosevelt) and that the trick is to not seek so much to be loved as to love (St. Francis). Oh, I'm just full of such bon mots. But it seemed to help and she was very chipper when I dropped her at school today.
My little trooper.
Now I must go face things and clean things and watch last week's episode of "Gilmore girls" so I'm ready for tonight. And The Neighbor returns home today from her sojourn in LA. Yippee.
Labels: Gilmore girls, small beer, The Child, The Neighbor, volleyball
cobbled together by Moi at 10:11 AM
11 Comments:
This beta password thing is really getting me. I hope I get used to it soon.
I have to say that I give the Child points for making the Bad Coach feel uncomfortable. He deserves it. Good on her.
Yeah, typically I don't encourage sassing to adults but in this case it wasn't sassing so much as speaking truthiness to power.
The child is a lucky young lady!
At 42, I still have days like she did...may I call for a "pick-me-up" chat next time?
I'm with Grish, glad to know she made him squirm at least a little, worm that he is.
I love to read posts from you, Lorraine. It's like a good friend sharing. It is comfortable, honest, a bit of sarcasm(which I personally love), smartly humorous, and warm. Thanks for sharing.
Sure, honey. I'm just brimming with trite wisdom. But my 'atta boys' are sincere.
Thanks, Greeny. I feel the same way about your posts!
Oh how I have missed the super-mommy! You handle things so marvelously. I imagine you don't think much of it, but I'll have you know that in similar situations from my youth, my own maternal figurehead said to me and I quote: "Too bad, you're going to school and if you miss that bus y'er walkin!". (laughs) Guess you had to be there.
"Super mommy?" Oh, Evangeline, how I've missed that sense of humor. I aspire, that's all.
Lorraine, this is why I am glad my kids do music/band! Everyone has to play!!!
She is lucky to have such a good mom, and I thought I was the only one to eat worms!!!
CM, Yeah, at the moment, I kinda wish that when The Child decided to drop an activity it had been volleyball and not choir.
Worms. With the right topping, they're delicious.
"This is small beer and life is a big brewery" is brilliant. Love it.
At the same time, the biggest problem in anyone's life right now is the biggest problem in their life, no matter how small. I yearn for a sense of perspective in my own life, but rarely acheive it -- and even when things are going wonderfully, I'll plotz over a hangnail (not really, but something almost as insignificant).
In any event, "speaking truthiness to power" is an important skill to learn -- at least as important as good manners, and very likely more so.
Red7, My natural tendancy is toward the "plotzing over a hangnail" variety. Some of it's been beaten out of me by parenting and some of it, I think, has just been transferred to The Child. Just about the only cure I've found is pray for the grace to this day parent this child. Sometimes easier said than done.
And Steven Colbert seems very polite. I'm glad truthiness and manners needn't be mutually exclusive.
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