Confessions of a Football Mom, Day Two: While He Adjusts His Cup, I'll Adjust my Attitude

(And when I refer to myself as a football mom, it means only that I drive my boy to and from practice and sit there during. I know very little about the game. One of these days, I might be the lipsticked equivalent of a hockey mom a la Sarah Palin.)


-------Monday, Aug 2, 2010

Saturday they just needed helmet, mouthpiece, cup, shirt, socks, and shoes. Oh, and water bottle and medical form.

Tonight they need full gear. Mind you, I have always thought I knew what that meant, but now I think I need a checklist. I can never again say that a woman needs more accessories than a man. Never had I had to write a coach and ask, "Exactly what should be on his body when he gets to the field that doesn't have to be removed when you pass out the new 7-piece-girdle thing?" He is probably cackling at my email as I type this.

But perhaps this is where the humor ends. Truth told, I think I will need to adjust my attitude to the nuisance of a new schedule that hits us smack dab in the middle of dinnertime four nights a week during the summer, and then "only" three nights a week during the school year. I am so not ready for this interruption. It bothers me to think that one of the practice nights might be the same as our care groups and fellowship groups. If we skip either one, someone will be shortchanged. If I skip care group, no big loss for our group. Only I suffer. If Paul skips, however, the group goes without music. (Paul is our group's only guitarist and has been for some 13 years, regardless the number of group changes we've been through.) If we skip football practice, Joel will miss out on learning certain plays and probably won't get the full bennies of having "done the time" like the rest of the team. As a teacher, I can really see how missing out on even two hours of "coaching" a week can put a kid and the "class" at a disadvantage.

My attitude: I'm feeling incompetent about equipment, which means my pride is taking a hit. And rearranging dinner to feed Joel earlier and Paul later, and not sitting down together, is not sitting well with me . It's all about me, after all, isn't it?