Nervous Wreck

Have you ever been nervous for your child?

My older son plays flag football. He loves it. He was fortunate enough last year to play on a team that had fantastic coaches. The kids on the team learned to work hard and have fun. Everyone got to play, and the best part of all was the kids won enough games to get themselves into the regional Super Bowl tournament. The tournament was intense, the competition more fierce and I was a nervous wreck. It was very hard to watch what was happening. I tried to distract myself by pacing and standing back from the crowd, but nothing could quell my nerves. I so wanted my son and his team to win.

They made it through the first three rounds in spectacular fashion (winning one, losing one, going into overtime and ultimately winning to go into the next round). They lost in the semi-final game, in a game that could have gone either way — the other team had the ball last and they won. I was exhausted afterwards — you would have thought I had played four games in a row on the field.

This year my son is playing on an even better team, with the same coaches, so the kids are continuing to work hard and have fun, but they are also winning. They just won the local city-wide championship and are in the regionals, starting with the semi-final game. Watching the local city-wide championship, I again was a nervous wreck. I watched it with another mom from the team, and commented to one of the players grandmother’s that was there watching, “This is aging me beyond belief.”

My angst forced me to reflect on what am I nervous about exactly? I have no influence or power to determine the outcome of any game. All I can do is lend support and encouragement. It says nothing about my son, or me, if his team wins or loses. I actually think you learn a lot more when you lose than when you win. I know my son wants the win desperately. He is such a fan of the game and I know he has pro-football-dreams like many his age. I know that I want this for him because of how happy this will make him. Of course, I also know how disappointed a loss would be (and having to deal with him being upset wouldn’t be fun, but it’s not something I get nervous about). If I really peel back the layers, I think my nerves are around “Am I doing right by my son?” Are my husband and I giving him the experiences and opportunities to experience things that will shape him to become the person we hope him to be? If the team wins or loses, will he use the experience to grow in a positive direction?  I don’t know the answer, but I do feel like I’m better understanding where my nerves stem from.

Parenting is full of worry and angst. When moments of success happen (your child succeeds at something) there is a moment of — I’m a pretty okay parent. Moments when they make a mistake, falter or fail can make you feel like maybe you’re not as great a parent as you think you are. I see my role as a teacher for my boys. Help them learn, grow (through missteps) and have success. It’s priceless when it happens.

I’ll never forget watching my son’s team win the local championship. The shear joy radiating across his face was magical. I know my nerves will return watching him in the regionals, but I’m glad I understand what’s behind them. And despite the outcome of the game, I’ll be there for him — to celebrate with him or pick him up.

What’s behind your nerves as a parent?

 

An Uncertain Future

With a new school year right around the corner, there is a lot of angst in our house. What will the new school year be like? Will my children fit in, make friends and be okay?

As parents, we ask ourselves these questions each year.

This year, my family will be at another crossroads. My oldest will be heading off to middle school. There is a lot of angst for him, even though he will be going to a school with many familiar faces, the unknown is concerning to him. The school is much larger than his elementary school (with almost 3x the number of students). It would be overwhelming to anyone. Throw in that he is quickly becoming a teen, and all that comes with it — being more self conscious and concerned with how others view you — and your anxiety would rise too. I remember middle school and I shudder. Of all my school years, it’s those that I wish I could have skipped. They were awkward, I never felt comfortable in my own skin, and experienced a heightened sense of needing to survive to get through those years. I’m desperately trying not to project my experience on my son, and am hopeful his time in middle school will be much better mine.

My younger will be in elementary school for the first time on his own. Of course, he too has many classmates who are familiar to him, but I’m anxious about how he will do on his own. Part of me knows I need to give him more credit. He’s a resilient kid, and will figure it out.

As a parent, I’m reminded during times like these how much is out of our control. I can certainly try to help my children prepare for the school year, but ultimately they will be the ones going to school and while I can help them as much as possible up front, I have to let go and let them fail or succeed on their own.

Parenting is tough when the future is uncertain. Have I done all I can to prepare them (with knowledge, insights, strategies for how to deal with different situations, etc.)? I guess we will see.

How do you help your kids get ready for the new school year? How do you help them navigate being in a new environment?

 

To Forget or to Fail?

Have you ever struggled to do something, and when you couldn’t figure it out you felt like you were a failure and worried about your abilities to do the task?

I’ve certainly experienced this, and my youngest son has experienced it too. It started with….the spelling test. Each week my son comes home with a list of words he needs to practice for his class’s spelling test. He copies the words on Monday and is supposed to practice them each night. We were studying before a Friday test, my husband and I trying to help him learn his words. He was getting confused by how to spell the words: ocean and motion, count and country. They sound like they should have similar spelling, but do not. Or are spelled similarly, but sound like they aren’t. My husband and I offered up a couple of tricks for how to remember the difference in how the words are spelled.  We had our son write the words down, we used the ‘flow’ of the letters (e.g. think about the letters trying to stay together in the water) to try to help him remember how to spell ocean. We had him hop on one foot and recite “t-i-o-n” (we thought it would be a fun way to get the letters stuck in his memory). You could see him trying so hard to remember how to spell the words. He was struggling and very frustrated that it was so hard for him. There were tears of frustration at one point. It was difficult to watch, and realize our efforts were not having the intended impact. After 30 minutes at this, we turned a corner, and he could spell each word. We decided he was as prepared as he was going to be for the test.

The following day, when our son got home from school, we asked how the spelling test went. “Okay,” our son replied. “Did you remember how to spell ‘ocean’ and ‘motion’?” I inquired. My son paused for a moment, his face got scrunched up and he said, “No, I forgot.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. “I guess I failed,” he concluded. I was still processing what he said when my husband jumped in. “Does forgetting how to spell a word mean you failed?” My son looked at him confused…you could almost see his mind working to figure out how to answer this, questioning himself and thinking the right answer might be maybe? My husband jumped back in and answered it for him. “No, it doesn’t mean you failed. It means you forgot. People forget things all the time. You just have to keep practicing and eventually you’ll get it.” My son seemed a bit relieved. He took a breath and relaxed, he understood he wasn’t a failure because he couldn’t remember a few words. He had an opportunity, and the potential to be a great speller. Persistence, practice and not giving up on himself was all it would take.

It was a good lesson for my son, and a good reminder for myself. Even as an adult I sometimes get frustrated when I struggle to do something correctly the first time around even if it’s new to me (I’m an adult after all, aren’t we supposed to know how to do pretty much everything by now?). Yet, I know that’s not true. We all are learning all the time. We can be new to learning something at any age. We have to be easy on ourselves, understand where we are in the learning process, and keep at it until we get it. We have to model how to handle these struggles to our kids.

How do you handle and/or internalize your own struggles? What do they say about you? How does your child experience struggles? How do you help them see them in a different (and more positive) light?