"Twelve months ago, I was told I was no good...."
So began the words spoken to the parents gathered after early morning practice on Thanksgiving morning. I don't think Coach intended to get emotional saying his words of thanks to us. From what I have seen of him in front of us, he tends more towards matter-of-fact when talking to parents. With the team, I hear he is pretty controlled, but does, on occasion, show some strong emotions.
Either which way, the words gave me chills when I heard them, and have been echoing through my mind ever since...
After all, a year ago, that's pretty much what the former coach had said about this very team of boys.
Last year, the team record was 1 and 9. The year before, 2 and 8. That coach's 'intensity' was something I personally found to be painful to watch. I expect coaches to be, shall we say, "excited," on the sideline, but he always seemed angry, irritable and frustrated. By the end of last season, I was keeping my own stats: counting how many times he had thrown something, screamed or waved his clipboard in someone's face, and judging what my son's mood would be on Saturday morning by how red the coach's face was. Around mid-season every year, there would be a rumor that it would be his last; he would retire at the end of the season. Among my friends in the stands, there was a certain hopefulness that went along with the rumor, but also a general, "I'll believe it when I see it" attitude.
The season ended last year with his retirement--and him saying that he had no desire to attend a football banquet. He went on to say that he wasn't even sure the boys deserved a banquet, after the season they had. He implied that we would be lucky to get a second-rate coach; that no one would want to work with these kids.
We pushed on. We had the banquet, and he did attend. None of us who knew what he'd said were happy about it, and would have loved to 'forget' his invitation, but we wanted--needed--to do the right thing for the players. As parents and fans, we had to stand behind our boys, no matter what. And we hoped for the future....
Our prayers were answered with a match made in heaven, it seems. A Coach who wasn't wanted and a team that was thrown away managed to finish the season with a more than respectable 7 and 5 record. More than that, they learned more from their new Coach than they had ever learned from the previous one. They learned that what they need is inside them. They learned to trust each other; to support each other. To take credit modestly, and to own up to mistakes with dignity.
They learned to be a team.
They learned, along with their new Coach, that their worth is not counted only in wins and losses, but in who they are--to each other, to the community, to themselves. They may have lost their championship final game, and brought home silver medals, but I still say that they are all, without a doubt, worth their weight in GOLD.
The season reads like a movie script, and I heard someone say before the last game that must mean they need a happy ending, a win, to finish it out. I almost agreed; I wanted a win, too. But, in reality, the happy ending for these guys is just beginning. The lessons they've learned are going to change their lives, and the lives of an entire community--just you wait.....
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
giving thanks
Today is Thanksgiving--my favorite of all holidays. That says a lot, because I am not much for "favorites." My favorite color depends on so many things: my mood, the season, the day of week...same goes for my favorite food, flower, whatever. But Thanksgiving is different. I can say, honestly, that I just love everything about it.
First of all, the weather doesn't much matter, since food is the attraction, and I love food. Then there is the fact that there are not many Thanksgiving commercials, ads or sales. Decorating for Thanksgiving is pretty simple, too, and doesn't just apply to the one day. There isn't a whole lot of buildup.
And that, quite frankly, is the biggest attraction to me: it's a low-key holiday. Just some food and football, and a lot of time and space for introspection.
I am a lucky woman. I have a wonderful husband; we've spent literally half our lives together, and I'm so looking forward to enjoying at least as many more years together. We've made a lovely home, even if our house is quite a mess at times! Life here is good--we laugh, we cry, we play....I wouldn't want it any other way. The boys light up my life, truly. They make me crazy sometimes, but their spirit drives me forward. Watching them grow and mature has been a gift. Their futures intrigue me, and the unfolding is fascinating.
I am so very grateful for our extended family--sisters and brothers, cousins, aunts and uncles, and all those who make up their households. Each and every one of them is so very special to me; I could never imagine life without them. Aside from the warmth of familial love, each of them adds so much joy to my life. Visits with our family members from the far corners of the country always result in the most amazing memories. I am grateful for all those memories each and every day.
Living apart from family has led to a different dimension in our friendships, and I am so very grateful for the friends we have that are like family to us. There are times when I cannot adequately express my thankfulness for these people in my life. I have friends that I can count on to do more than just visit--we watch out for each other's kids, and we understand and accept each other's idiosyncrasies. Some of these friends have never been within a mile of our home, and yet their place in my heart is fixed fast. Some I have known since childhood, and some just a few months, and yet each and every one of them has become a part of the quilt of my life--a life that I appreciate so much for all the loose threads and even the occasional mismatched seam.
My life is warm and comfortable and colorful, just the way I like it. At Thanksgiving, especially, I wrap myself in this life-quilt and remember how lucky I am. I have health, a home, a job I like, people I both enjoy and admire, and enough joy to share. What more could I ask for?
First of all, the weather doesn't much matter, since food is the attraction, and I love food. Then there is the fact that there are not many Thanksgiving commercials, ads or sales. Decorating for Thanksgiving is pretty simple, too, and doesn't just apply to the one day. There isn't a whole lot of buildup.
And that, quite frankly, is the biggest attraction to me: it's a low-key holiday. Just some food and football, and a lot of time and space for introspection.
I am a lucky woman. I have a wonderful husband; we've spent literally half our lives together, and I'm so looking forward to enjoying at least as many more years together. We've made a lovely home, even if our house is quite a mess at times! Life here is good--we laugh, we cry, we play....I wouldn't want it any other way. The boys light up my life, truly. They make me crazy sometimes, but their spirit drives me forward. Watching them grow and mature has been a gift. Their futures intrigue me, and the unfolding is fascinating.
I am so very grateful for our extended family--sisters and brothers, cousins, aunts and uncles, and all those who make up their households. Each and every one of them is so very special to me; I could never imagine life without them. Aside from the warmth of familial love, each of them adds so much joy to my life. Visits with our family members from the far corners of the country always result in the most amazing memories. I am grateful for all those memories each and every day.
Living apart from family has led to a different dimension in our friendships, and I am so very grateful for the friends we have that are like family to us. There are times when I cannot adequately express my thankfulness for these people in my life. I have friends that I can count on to do more than just visit--we watch out for each other's kids, and we understand and accept each other's idiosyncrasies. Some of these friends have never been within a mile of our home, and yet their place in my heart is fixed fast. Some I have known since childhood, and some just a few months, and yet each and every one of them has become a part of the quilt of my life--a life that I appreciate so much for all the loose threads and even the occasional mismatched seam.
My life is warm and comfortable and colorful, just the way I like it. At Thanksgiving, especially, I wrap myself in this life-quilt and remember how lucky I am. I have health, a home, a job I like, people I both enjoy and admire, and enough joy to share. What more could I ask for?
Thursday, November 17, 2011
thanks, coach
Dear Coach~
You are quite a motivational speaker. The first time I met you, you had been working with my son and the team for a short time. They had been lifting weights a bit, nothing really serious, as I recall, but you had taken the time to get to know them a little. A couple of the assistant coaches from the previous years had remained on your staff, and I was impressed that they shared so much information about the boys' talents, strengths and weaknesses with you. And also impressed that you had listened, but said that you were committed to making your own judgements.
In fact, there were many things you told us you were committed to that evening. You talked about so many different ways you wanted to change things with this team, and you promised to be accessible to us, as well as to the boys. Some things didn't materialize (this year. I have every confidence that this will grow and continue to develop.), but other things took off. That first evening, though, what most amazed me is still that I left the meeting excited about the football season.
Coach, you promised that you would take our boys and help them to become men. You promised that they would, by the end of the season, be a team, a family. You even were so bold as to promise that they would have a winning season, probably even a playoff season. I hope you understood how difficult that was to swallow. I, for one, had seen my son's team lose far more than win, and I'd never expected to meet an approachable football coach. But, somehow, you convinced me.
With your guidance, these boys have changed. You told them, in the early weight room sessions, that they can't give up in the third quarter; that the game isn't over until the clock winds down. When I run now, I break the route down into rough quarters, and tell myself the same thing. And I've watched as the team has played--really played--until the very end of the game; they just don't give up. It's great to see.
One thing you have held fast to is their position as role models in the community. At first, it didn't seem they realized, or cared, that community members recognized them. They wore their jerseys the same as they always had. Now, just three months later, they carry themselves differently in their jerseys. It's difficult to explain, but they have a new bearing. They care. All those weeks of reading that the upperclassmen did really got through to them: these kids know them. The questions the kids ask are real, and make the boys think on their feet. They've seen the support that comes from admiration, and they began to understand the responsibility associated with wearing any uniform. They then passed that self-respect on to the underclassmen. The end result is an entire team that looks forward to being able to read to kids.
Your view of pregame meals and Senior dinners has been simple genius. Sitting down to a meal is different from grabbing some food on the run. Despite the buffet style so necessary or efficient in feeding so many at one time, the team sits together and talks. Decompresses. Relaxes a little. Calms those nerves.
Coach, I would like to thank you for coming to our team. I believe in what you have started here: the new traditions, the ideas you have, the dreams you see coming true. Most of all, I would like to say that I appreciate the mutual respect you have fostered. These guys, as you promised, look out for each other. I've heard them extend credit to other team members when paid a compliment. I've heard them say that they have learned from mistakes made in practice or in games, and that the next one will be even better. And I've heard you commend the team, rather than take compliments for yourself. More than once, you have thanked us, as parents, for the sons we have raised. We--the parents, and you--the coaches, have become a good team, too. Thank you.
Thank you for believing. Thank you for pushing. Thank you for your faith in a bunch of people who you'd never met. Thank you for being honest--with us and with our children. Thank you for being the type of coach who really does do this job for the love of the kids first, and the game second. Thank you for an unforgettable season. The winning, I'd like to say, is just icing on the cake, but I'd be lying. Without the winning, the rest would still have been there, but it might have been harder to see. So thanks for that, too.
Warmly,
a converted Football Mom
You are quite a motivational speaker. The first time I met you, you had been working with my son and the team for a short time. They had been lifting weights a bit, nothing really serious, as I recall, but you had taken the time to get to know them a little. A couple of the assistant coaches from the previous years had remained on your staff, and I was impressed that they shared so much information about the boys' talents, strengths and weaknesses with you. And also impressed that you had listened, but said that you were committed to making your own judgements.
In fact, there were many things you told us you were committed to that evening. You talked about so many different ways you wanted to change things with this team, and you promised to be accessible to us, as well as to the boys. Some things didn't materialize (this year. I have every confidence that this will grow and continue to develop.), but other things took off. That first evening, though, what most amazed me is still that I left the meeting excited about the football season.
Coach, you promised that you would take our boys and help them to become men. You promised that they would, by the end of the season, be a team, a family. You even were so bold as to promise that they would have a winning season, probably even a playoff season. I hope you understood how difficult that was to swallow. I, for one, had seen my son's team lose far more than win, and I'd never expected to meet an approachable football coach. But, somehow, you convinced me.
With your guidance, these boys have changed. You told them, in the early weight room sessions, that they can't give up in the third quarter; that the game isn't over until the clock winds down. When I run now, I break the route down into rough quarters, and tell myself the same thing. And I've watched as the team has played--really played--until the very end of the game; they just don't give up. It's great to see.
One thing you have held fast to is their position as role models in the community. At first, it didn't seem they realized, or cared, that community members recognized them. They wore their jerseys the same as they always had. Now, just three months later, they carry themselves differently in their jerseys. It's difficult to explain, but they have a new bearing. They care. All those weeks of reading that the upperclassmen did really got through to them: these kids know them. The questions the kids ask are real, and make the boys think on their feet. They've seen the support that comes from admiration, and they began to understand the responsibility associated with wearing any uniform. They then passed that self-respect on to the underclassmen. The end result is an entire team that looks forward to being able to read to kids.
Your view of pregame meals and Senior dinners has been simple genius. Sitting down to a meal is different from grabbing some food on the run. Despite the buffet style so necessary or efficient in feeding so many at one time, the team sits together and talks. Decompresses. Relaxes a little. Calms those nerves.
Coach, I would like to thank you for coming to our team. I believe in what you have started here: the new traditions, the ideas you have, the dreams you see coming true. Most of all, I would like to say that I appreciate the mutual respect you have fostered. These guys, as you promised, look out for each other. I've heard them extend credit to other team members when paid a compliment. I've heard them say that they have learned from mistakes made in practice or in games, and that the next one will be even better. And I've heard you commend the team, rather than take compliments for yourself. More than once, you have thanked us, as parents, for the sons we have raised. We--the parents, and you--the coaches, have become a good team, too. Thank you.
Thank you for believing. Thank you for pushing. Thank you for your faith in a bunch of people who you'd never met. Thank you for being honest--with us and with our children. Thank you for being the type of coach who really does do this job for the love of the kids first, and the game second. Thank you for an unforgettable season. The winning, I'd like to say, is just icing on the cake, but I'd be lying. Without the winning, the rest would still have been there, but it might have been harder to see. So thanks for that, too.
Warmly,
a converted Football Mom
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
lion pride :)
Texting with a friend today, I had to admit that "I'm going to spend the entire day/night [Friday] crying, what with all this 'proud of them' I have in my heart." Friday night is a playoff game. A game that, back in the spring, Coach seemed sure we could see, even though many of us parents had our doubts. So much has happened since then.....
At the time, our boys had been coming off not just one, but 3 or more losing seasons. They had never really played as a united team. Watching them, and listening to my son talk about the team, it really sounded like three disparate groups trying to come together for just two hours each week. We didn't know how anyone could overcome that. I remember distinctly one dad saying, "Coach, what you have here is a team of smart kids, but not necessarily gifted athletes." He went on to say that they all had their athletic abilities, and they all had heart, but, when all is said and done, they are more brainy than brawny. We all hoped, to some degree, that the boys' hearts would not be broken.....
Since that day, I've watched and listened, as a mom, as a school employee, and as a fan, and what I've seen has amazed and impressed me. Looking back at that first meeting in the spring, when I left thinking, "I like him. I really like him!" I realize that as he spoke to us parents, he reminded me of Debbie Allen at the beginning of the "Fame" episodes: "You've got big dreams...right here's where you start paying--in sweat." Coach assured us that the boys were ready for the challenge, that they could make it to playoffs, that they were going to be a team. A real, honest-to-goodness team. All the parents I talked to seemed to agree--we liked what he had to say, but wondered if he was being realistic.
All summer, the boys worked out together in the weight room. As they got stronger, they also got to know each other, as well as the coaching staff. By the time practice started for the season, the boys were beginning to 'team up,' to know that they needed each other to get through the tough stuff. Coach made minor changes to the day-to-day stuff, too: no soda, zero tolerance for trouble or fading grades, insistence on knowing the playbook, and not just faking it. Coach insisted they be "real;" that they be honest with him, with each other, with themselves.
The transformation I've witnessed goes far beyond the field, where they have shone like stars. As a whole, they boys have learned some unexpected lessons. Coach asked that they read to the elementary students--their youngest fans--and through that, the boys have learned that facing something new, anything new, can be equally intimidating as facing a defensive line. Coach told them back in those weight room days not to give up in the third quarter, and the boys discovered that they could outplay their opponents by tiring them out. Coach asked that we feed the team a "nice, sit-down meal" before the home games. As the season has progressed, I've come to realize that the intent has been to feed their souls and psyches as much as their bodies, and the result is that they have become family. As for those brains, Coach has guided them to a point of understanding the game; these boys out-think many of their opponents, adapting their game to counter the other teams'.
In an interview, Coach cited a pivotal 4th quarter win mid-season as the point at which "they" started to trust him. Ostensibly, he was referring to the boys on the team. In reality, I suspect he was including the parents and other fans, as well. Prior to that game, there was some appreciation for his methods, but I think there was still a feeling that not much had changed with this new coach. I recall being asked more than once if I thought this new guy would stay if the season continued as it was. I did think so, but I also found myself wondering if he was more disappointed than he was admitting to.
Heading into playoffs....In a later text today, I added that "I've never felt so wrapped up in anything that I can remember. just might explode!" It's true. I've watched. I've learned. I've even become a fan--something I never imagined. Just like playoffs. I told another friend today that I am impressed with how the boys are handling this success, too. They are being "real:" far from modest--they know they have done something amazing--they are, however, being a team. They give credit where it's due, they admit to their own shortcomings on the field (if not necessarily other places--they are just kids, after all!), and they are getting excited about the game. Even I am getting excited about the game. I might manage not to cry, but I doubt it. I really have never been so excited about a football game. Thanks, Coach. Good luck, boys!
At the time, our boys had been coming off not just one, but 3 or more losing seasons. They had never really played as a united team. Watching them, and listening to my son talk about the team, it really sounded like three disparate groups trying to come together for just two hours each week. We didn't know how anyone could overcome that. I remember distinctly one dad saying, "Coach, what you have here is a team of smart kids, but not necessarily gifted athletes." He went on to say that they all had their athletic abilities, and they all had heart, but, when all is said and done, they are more brainy than brawny. We all hoped, to some degree, that the boys' hearts would not be broken.....
Since that day, I've watched and listened, as a mom, as a school employee, and as a fan, and what I've seen has amazed and impressed me. Looking back at that first meeting in the spring, when I left thinking, "I like him. I really like him!" I realize that as he spoke to us parents, he reminded me of Debbie Allen at the beginning of the "Fame" episodes: "You've got big dreams...right here's where you start paying--in sweat." Coach assured us that the boys were ready for the challenge, that they could make it to playoffs, that they were going to be a team. A real, honest-to-goodness team. All the parents I talked to seemed to agree--we liked what he had to say, but wondered if he was being realistic.
All summer, the boys worked out together in the weight room. As they got stronger, they also got to know each other, as well as the coaching staff. By the time practice started for the season, the boys were beginning to 'team up,' to know that they needed each other to get through the tough stuff. Coach made minor changes to the day-to-day stuff, too: no soda, zero tolerance for trouble or fading grades, insistence on knowing the playbook, and not just faking it. Coach insisted they be "real;" that they be honest with him, with each other, with themselves.
The transformation I've witnessed goes far beyond the field, where they have shone like stars. As a whole, they boys have learned some unexpected lessons. Coach asked that they read to the elementary students--their youngest fans--and through that, the boys have learned that facing something new, anything new, can be equally intimidating as facing a defensive line. Coach told them back in those weight room days not to give up in the third quarter, and the boys discovered that they could outplay their opponents by tiring them out. Coach asked that we feed the team a "nice, sit-down meal" before the home games. As the season has progressed, I've come to realize that the intent has been to feed their souls and psyches as much as their bodies, and the result is that they have become family. As for those brains, Coach has guided them to a point of understanding the game; these boys out-think many of their opponents, adapting their game to counter the other teams'.
In an interview, Coach cited a pivotal 4th quarter win mid-season as the point at which "they" started to trust him. Ostensibly, he was referring to the boys on the team. In reality, I suspect he was including the parents and other fans, as well. Prior to that game, there was some appreciation for his methods, but I think there was still a feeling that not much had changed with this new coach. I recall being asked more than once if I thought this new guy would stay if the season continued as it was. I did think so, but I also found myself wondering if he was more disappointed than he was admitting to.
Heading into playoffs....In a later text today, I added that "I've never felt so wrapped up in anything that I can remember. just might explode!" It's true. I've watched. I've learned. I've even become a fan--something I never imagined. Just like playoffs. I told another friend today that I am impressed with how the boys are handling this success, too. They are being "real:" far from modest--they know they have done something amazing--they are, however, being a team. They give credit where it's due, they admit to their own shortcomings on the field (if not necessarily other places--they are just kids, after all!), and they are getting excited about the game. Even I am getting excited about the game. I might manage not to cry, but I doubt it. I really have never been so excited about a football game. Thanks, Coach. Good luck, boys!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
precious and few
My two favorite pictures of the entire season. That joy, pride, admiration, and, yes, relief, that we all felt after the last regular season win, is more than just evident in these pictures. It's palpable. The game ended, and Jon walked toward us with tears in his eyes and his face all screwed up with the effort of not crying out loud, and hugged me, holding me tight and swaying while my heart exploded with a mixture of pride for him, his teammates, and his coaches, and relief that he made it through the regular season injury-free, though he played hard. As he hugged me, I had so many thoughts going through my head, but there were no words for the moment. There really aren't in moments like this. He released me and turned to Guy. Like all the post-game pictures I take, I snapped the picture without even looking at the viewfinder, hoping against hope that I would even capture them in the frame. I'm not one for taking posed pictures; my preference is taking pictures that capture something. When I opened this picture of Guy and Jon, my heart skipped a beat. What I saw was my husband and our firstborn son in a moment that said everything (I thought) that could ever be said about the final steps in a journey from a 1-9 season to a 6-4 season. Everything that could possibly be said about looking forward to playoffs, while keeping in mind the first steps our son ever took. What else could express the joy and awe at turning, now, toward the post-season, and a first playoff game on the team's home field? Then I opened this other picture...
As brothers, Henry and Jon have had their inseparable moments. Football, however, has been Jon's thing. Henry went to most of the games, and cheered on his brother and, of course, his other friends on the team. But after that win--the one that so many said wouldn't happen--the first thing Henry wanted to do was hug his brother. This is one of those moments I feel blessed to have captured!! Happy, proud, joyful, excited--any emotion possible is displayed in Henry's face, and I'm left with the memory of how long they stood that way--long enough for me to get two shots, and to stand in awe of that mystery to me of Brother Love.
And after my heart started beating normally, and I could settle in and focus on downloading the photos into the appropriate file folders on the computer, it hit me. I'm not in any such pictures. And I doubt that I ever will be. I know there is a chance, because I do have one picture of Dad giving me one of my favorite one-armed hugs, from my high school graduation. He loved those unposed, unplanned, one-of-a-kind snapshots, too, so I have lots and lots of them--without him.
When Jon's kids look back at these pictures, how will they see the absence of my face, my emotions? How will he? Will he remember the hug that I gave him, too, or will it be lost without 'proof'? As I got older, I began taking pictures of Dad when he wasn't looking, but those moments didn't include me. When I think about them, or see pictures of amazing moments, I do still feel that arm of his over my shoulder. Will Jon? Will any of my boys? I hope so.
In the meantime, I will gaze at these two pictures and be warmed by the tide of memories from the whole season that wash over me. From a whole lifetime.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
your turn--yes, you
by special request....
Dear Me (because I don't want to forget),
What you do today will be emulated. Don't think that no one is paying attention. While you sit here typing this blog, someone is thinking they should be like you. They don't always even know that's what they are thinking--or, quite possibly, they are looking at you and telling themselves that they never want to do what you do. They will. They may beat themselves up about it afterwards, or they may praise you for showing you the way--but that is up to you. Now. And always.
You've been telling your kids how you expect them to behave since they were small babies. Making sure they say "Please" and "Thank you" to everyone, and encouraging them to hold doors open for others. Are you sure that's all you've been showing them?
I remember how amazed and touched I was when my eldest son and my niece both said that going back to college to finish my degree was "so cool!" There was a part of me that worked even harder because I knew they were now depending on me to show them how important college is, and how they would want to know how I was going to prioritize school and life, and if anything would change in regard to how I felt about them. Through some classes, that is what sustained me and kept me from giving up. I need to remember to thank them for that.
I remember, too, the day that my son said to me, "I'm glad you've made some new friends. I've noticed you drink more now, and have fun." That was a blow. Actually, more than that--it made me wonder which made more of an impression on him: my earning a college degree, or the fact that I was consuming more wine than he had ever seen me drink. It wasn't terribly excessive--just a glass or two a couple of times a week, but considering that he had only ever seen me drink wine on holidays, the change was huge. I was shocked. More that it was noticeable enough for him to notice and comment on than because of anything else.
Honestly, I've made changes since that day not long ago. I'd like you to help me make good choices. Just like you expect from the kids. And since you are me, we can work together. There is medical evidence that some alcohol consumption may be beneficial, but that doesn't mean finishing up a bottle of wine just so it "won't go to waste" or because "there's only a little bit left." You know full well that if the wine "skunks" from sitting in the fridge too long, or doesn't taste as good the next day, it will be a perfect flavoring for that stew, risotto, or other fabulous dinner you like to make. We can let it go, and even plan the dinner to put it in.
That glass of wine, or even two, if you're not going anywhere, is something altogether different from a bottle or two. Very different. Keep that in mind. Anything beyond the first few sips, and your kids are watching to see how you are behaving. I've seen it. Shoot, we've even joked about it! So far, I've stopped long before I got stupid, but they are looking for any change in behavior, reaction time, anything. One of the teens, I fear, is watching so he can figure out how to hide it when/if he drinks; the other is just willing to use it as fodder if he ever needs it. The others are not as sure about what they are watching for, but they are training hawk eyes on us just the same.
And for God's sake--every one of those things you have told those kids to do or not do--FOLLOW YOUR OWN ADVICE!! If you ever expect your kid to actually call you when someone has had too much to drink, or is high, or is even just too tired to drive, you had better call them if you find yourself in the same situation. Or call a cab. Or stay put. Or walk home, if there is no body of water or highway along the way. They will do what you do, no matter what you say. No matter what you say.
Remember that time you lost your temper about something really nonsensical, and hoped it would be forgotten (even though you couldn't forget it)? Yeah, that's what showed up in that argument between two of your kids the other day. Did you hear yourself? Thought so. How'd that make you feel? Much different than how they felt when you blew up? It hurt again when you told them to knock it off, too, didn't it? No? That's right, it made you feel guilty.....
And that was not the worst thing you've shown them, was it? But now, do you see what I mean? What you do, how you behave, how you live, that's what makes an impression. Every day. Yeah, it's hard work, and sometimes it's not fun, but they are your kids, your friends' kids, your kids' friends, and they are all watching.
I've always believed that I have as much to learn from my kids as I have to teach them. Why else would God have sent us four boys?? I'm a tough case, and have a heck of a lot to learn!! (I'm only half serious there. I am completely aware that our activities had at least as to do with them being here--and there being four of them!--as any grand plan!) One of the most important things we need to remember at this point is that decisions need to be made with a clear mind, and a clear conscience. We've spent years and so much energy trying to make sure our kids understand that impairment begins with the first drink. Do we? Because we are going to ask our teens if drinking together is really necessary to socialize, we need to ask ourselves the same question. Perhaps there is a problem in the presentation.....
For me, a glass of wine now, as a 42-year-old, self-confident woman, means something very different than the glass I had as a 21-year-old newlywed with my in-laws. Then, admittedly, I had a glass of wine for reasons in addition to liking the wine. I wanted to fit in, and I still felt uncomfortable in this family that I was only beginning to blend into. When I hear kids say they drink to fit in, to be like "everyone else," I honestly do understand. I also know that it didn't work. Instead, I still felt not quite comfortable, and worried that I might have a little too much and do or say something I would regret. Or worse, would embarrass my new husband. I was lucky. None of those things happened. I was LUCKY: any of those things could have happened, or worse. Part of that luck came from the fact that my husband just plain didn't drink. And, although I was a bit insecure then, I was still willing to hold myself accountable. Now when I have a glass of wine or two, the flavor and the experience associated with it are thought out. I am aware of, and take notice of, the taste (a minor thing, really) as well as the physical effects. I am aware. And I purposely stop while I am still aware.
They are watching. Be someone you want them to see.
Sincerely,
Me.
Dear Me (because I don't want to forget),
What you do today will be emulated. Don't think that no one is paying attention. While you sit here typing this blog, someone is thinking they should be like you. They don't always even know that's what they are thinking--or, quite possibly, they are looking at you and telling themselves that they never want to do what you do. They will. They may beat themselves up about it afterwards, or they may praise you for showing you the way--but that is up to you. Now. And always.
You've been telling your kids how you expect them to behave since they were small babies. Making sure they say "Please" and "Thank you" to everyone, and encouraging them to hold doors open for others. Are you sure that's all you've been showing them?
I remember how amazed and touched I was when my eldest son and my niece both said that going back to college to finish my degree was "so cool!" There was a part of me that worked even harder because I knew they were now depending on me to show them how important college is, and how they would want to know how I was going to prioritize school and life, and if anything would change in regard to how I felt about them. Through some classes, that is what sustained me and kept me from giving up. I need to remember to thank them for that.
I remember, too, the day that my son said to me, "I'm glad you've made some new friends. I've noticed you drink more now, and have fun." That was a blow. Actually, more than that--it made me wonder which made more of an impression on him: my earning a college degree, or the fact that I was consuming more wine than he had ever seen me drink. It wasn't terribly excessive--just a glass or two a couple of times a week, but considering that he had only ever seen me drink wine on holidays, the change was huge. I was shocked. More that it was noticeable enough for him to notice and comment on than because of anything else.
Honestly, I've made changes since that day not long ago. I'd like you to help me make good choices. Just like you expect from the kids. And since you are me, we can work together. There is medical evidence that some alcohol consumption may be beneficial, but that doesn't mean finishing up a bottle of wine just so it "won't go to waste" or because "there's only a little bit left." You know full well that if the wine "skunks" from sitting in the fridge too long, or doesn't taste as good the next day, it will be a perfect flavoring for that stew, risotto, or other fabulous dinner you like to make. We can let it go, and even plan the dinner to put it in.
That glass of wine, or even two, if you're not going anywhere, is something altogether different from a bottle or two. Very different. Keep that in mind. Anything beyond the first few sips, and your kids are watching to see how you are behaving. I've seen it. Shoot, we've even joked about it! So far, I've stopped long before I got stupid, but they are looking for any change in behavior, reaction time, anything. One of the teens, I fear, is watching so he can figure out how to hide it when/if he drinks; the other is just willing to use it as fodder if he ever needs it. The others are not as sure about what they are watching for, but they are training hawk eyes on us just the same.
And for God's sake--every one of those things you have told those kids to do or not do--FOLLOW YOUR OWN ADVICE!! If you ever expect your kid to actually call you when someone has had too much to drink, or is high, or is even just too tired to drive, you had better call them if you find yourself in the same situation. Or call a cab. Or stay put. Or walk home, if there is no body of water or highway along the way. They will do what you do, no matter what you say. No matter what you say.
Remember that time you lost your temper about something really nonsensical, and hoped it would be forgotten (even though you couldn't forget it)? Yeah, that's what showed up in that argument between two of your kids the other day. Did you hear yourself? Thought so. How'd that make you feel? Much different than how they felt when you blew up? It hurt again when you told them to knock it off, too, didn't it? No? That's right, it made you feel guilty.....
And that was not the worst thing you've shown them, was it? But now, do you see what I mean? What you do, how you behave, how you live, that's what makes an impression. Every day. Yeah, it's hard work, and sometimes it's not fun, but they are your kids, your friends' kids, your kids' friends, and they are all watching.
I've always believed that I have as much to learn from my kids as I have to teach them. Why else would God have sent us four boys?? I'm a tough case, and have a heck of a lot to learn!! (I'm only half serious there. I am completely aware that our activities had at least as to do with them being here--and there being four of them!--as any grand plan!) One of the most important things we need to remember at this point is that decisions need to be made with a clear mind, and a clear conscience. We've spent years and so much energy trying to make sure our kids understand that impairment begins with the first drink. Do we? Because we are going to ask our teens if drinking together is really necessary to socialize, we need to ask ourselves the same question. Perhaps there is a problem in the presentation.....
For me, a glass of wine now, as a 42-year-old, self-confident woman, means something very different than the glass I had as a 21-year-old newlywed with my in-laws. Then, admittedly, I had a glass of wine for reasons in addition to liking the wine. I wanted to fit in, and I still felt uncomfortable in this family that I was only beginning to blend into. When I hear kids say they drink to fit in, to be like "everyone else," I honestly do understand. I also know that it didn't work. Instead, I still felt not quite comfortable, and worried that I might have a little too much and do or say something I would regret. Or worse, would embarrass my new husband. I was lucky. None of those things happened. I was LUCKY: any of those things could have happened, or worse. Part of that luck came from the fact that my husband just plain didn't drink. And, although I was a bit insecure then, I was still willing to hold myself accountable. Now when I have a glass of wine or two, the flavor and the experience associated with it are thought out. I am aware of, and take notice of, the taste (a minor thing, really) as well as the physical effects. I am aware. And I purposely stop while I am still aware.
They are watching. Be someone you want them to see.
Sincerely,
Me.
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