I’m always interested in what comes next with my son. Not just with him, but with his friends as well, especially the friends he has known since kindergarten.
My husband and I don’t always know how to navigate the journey of parenthood. We learn as we go. Sometimes we aren’t 100% sure that we are getting the whole story on the “who, what, when, where” of what he is doing next. I struggle not to be a helicopter parent. I sometimes read the blog of a woman who homeschools. She makes it sound as if her oldest boys have almost no time unsupervised, for fear they find some sort of trouble. I can’t imagine being raised that way.
He is in eighth grade. It is football season right now. He still has a lot to learn. I’m proud of him though for keeping going. Secretly I would have never imagine having a son that played football. In my mind he would have played another sport, or pursued other interests…anything but football. It is what he wants though.
One of his teammates had a serious injury in the last game. I admit in times like this there is a temptation to want to pull him out. I won’t though.
Growing up I always I always had mixed feelings about sports. I figured out later that it wasn’t so much the sport I objected to, but the culture that sometimes is attached with it. I especially felt this way when I observed how college football operates.
There is an old guy that comes to a lot of sporting events. He is somewhat emblematic of what I dislike about sports. We’ve seen him for years at his grandson’s sporting events. He can’t ever keep his mouth shut, he is always ready with a criticism. When my son’s teammate was injured the old guy made some stupid remark about kids taking stuff like that too seriously. WTF does that even mean. The kid can’t show that he is pain?