Archives For November 30, 1999

I am telling you now, dear boy, that junior high is fantastic and awful and amazing and embarrassing all rolled into two years.

I realize you’ll be a teenager soon so you already have all the answers, but please entertain me and read this from beginning to end.

Seeing as I don’t share the same anatomy as you, I won’t pretend to know how you are feeling as you transition from an old boy into a young man. But I do know how it feels to be a hormone-crazed girl and my best advice to you when dealing with such a species is: Be nice. Be respectful. Beware.

 

Your mom KNOWS about junior high girls. See that guy on the right? That guy had the hair of Vanilla Ice. Need I say more? See that girl on the left? It took me 45 minutes to tight-roll those jean shorts just right, Aqua Net that hair up, and locate my whitest Keds to blow him away. That guy and I spoke maybe 12 words to each other all year long, yet I assumed he was a lyrical poet. Junior high girls are crazy. TRUST ME ON THIS.

Your mom KNOWS about junior high girls. See that guy on the right? That guy had the hair of Vanilla Ice. Need I say more? See that girl on the left? It took me 45 minutes to tight-roll those jean shorts just right, Aqua Net that hair up, and locate my whitest Keds to blow him away. That guy and I spoke maybe 12 words to each other all year long, yet I assumed he was a lyrical poet. We were going to take 1990-1991 by storm. In a nutshell, junior high girls are crazy. TRUST ME ON THIS.

 

Over the past three months, there are a handful of girls who, much like me when I was their age, spent their summer days leading up to seventh grade obsessing over how they’ll look, who they’ll hang out with, and how they’ll manage to act casual yet intriguing in front of boys much like you.

The same girl you remember playing kickball with last May will show up in a week smelling nicer, looking older, laughing louder, and talking uncontrollably about crap you couldn’t care less about.

You are bound to feel confused and slightly annoyed by this behavior. Realize she may be second-guessing every decision she makes…so…

Be nice.

She will playfully punch you in the arm and tell you that you’re stupid while batting her eyelashes (which are longer than you remember) and you’re going to wonder, “What in the hell is she doing with her eyes? I don’t even know where I’m supposed to look.”

They’ll be crop tops, mini skirts, and little left to the imagination.

Whatever you do, don’t look down. Keep looking at girls in their eyes. In other words…always…

Be respectful.

You will have feelings that are fueled by these alien females as well as constant razzing from your male peers. Do not engage in questionable behavior or hang out with the less-than-desirable crowd because you think it makes you seem cooler. I know I am slightly biased as your mom, but I can tell you with 100 percent certainty: You are cool enough as is.

Remember what is important to you. Continue to be a leader both inside and outside of the classroom.

No matter how much you or those around you change in terms of physical growth or behavioral tendencies, always remember what is important to you (yes, I repeated that on purpose). And when little miss sunshine comes prancing around the corner asking you to cut back on the things that make you the happiest in life so that you’ll have more time to spend with her…no matter how hot she is…

Beware.

Written (with love) by Heidi Woodard

Special thanks to Peggy Dineen Reall for finding these blast-from-the-past pics.

Special thanks to Peggy Dineen Reall for finding these blast-from-the-past pictures.

 

I was approached by Fanatics to participate in their “Family Fanatics” initiative, challenging bloggers to share their stories about how sports has brought families together. Fanatics is the leading online retailer of officially licensed sports merchandise – everything from NBA jerseys to MLB caps.

Ironically, their invitation arrived as my family was heading out of town to a baseball tournament for our oldest son. I jumped on it without hesitation.

Baseball tourney turned mini-vacation

Baseball tourney turned mini-vacation. How the big boys roll.

 

There is no I in TEAM.

There is no I in TEAM. The little guys in their team huddle.

 

How has sports brought us together? That’s easy for me to answer. To put it simply: I can’t imagine growing up without having played sports. My husband grew up much the same way that I did. Two jocks met, fell in love, got married, and passed down the tradition of loving sports to their offspring. Fortunately for us, our children love competing in athletics too.

Now is the point I’m guessing many of you are thinking, Of course they do. What other choice have they been given but to live out your glory years for you?

To that, I reply: Touche.

I’m not going to lie. As I’ve aged and it’s become quite apparent that I no longer “got it,” it’s extremely enjoyable to watch a younger, fresher, more nimble generation take the reigns.

After much prodding by their mom and dad, both my boys have repeatedly reassured us that they love playing the game (whether that game is basketball, baseball, or football) as much as we did. Their little sister even has one memorable season of basketball under her belt. It wouldn’t have mattered if I steered them in this direction or not. I have no doubt all three of them would have inevitably arrived here on their own somehow.

 

Baseball besties catching their big brothers' game.

Baseball besties catching their big brothers’ game.

 

Hard to top feeling on top of the world when you're 10.

Hard to top feeling invincible when you’re 10.

 

Through sports, they are not only learning how to play the game, but they are meeting friends along the way. Their number of mentors has grown throughout the years thanks to a lot of selfless coaches. They know what it’s like to feel pride in their accomplishments as well as disappointment in their shortcomings. They’ve felt the gratification of stepping up in a big-time situation as well as the shame of failing to rise to the challenge.

I can honestly say I learned more about how to deal with difficult people through my years on the ball field and hard court than any experience I’ve had since in the “real world.” I can also freely admit that it’s hard to match the level of camaraderie one experiences when playing for something greater than just yourself.

Whether we are road tripping to and from tournament competition sites or sitting around a table grabbing dinner after the final made out or blown whistle, sports allow us to bond together and relate to one another despite huge generational gaps.

 

Win or lose? Who cares as long as we get to ride the Rhino to drag the field for the next game.

Win or lose? Who cares as long as we get to ride the Rhino to drag the field for the next game.

 

photo 1

It’s not all fun and games when dad is driving. Car sickness strikes at the most inopportune times.

 

Team sports, in particular, teach kids the valuable lesson that things don’t always go your way. Not everyone gets a medal for simply showing up. The greatest athletes are the ones who don’t play for pride, but rather for the love of the game.

I hope my children can apply these lessons and more as they grow into adults. I believe that parents like me can either help or hinder that progress from the sidelines.

Written by Heidi Woodard

I vaguely recall what it feels like to have a normal summer. Summers gone by involved my husband, Ryan, and I spending time with friends, playing slow pitch softball or sand volleyball, grilling out, and chilling out.

We then mutually agreed to welcome three little time suckers into our lives. And, better yet, we agreed to raise them as mini versions of ourselves. So, to answer your inevitable questions: Yes, I do know what I signed up for and, no, I am not expecting you to feel sorry for my self-imposed schedule.

Baseball was a sport that Ryan tolerated. It was an off-season activity that he played just to keep himself occupied. As one of the most impatient people I know, Ryan could never embrace the pace of baseball as a player. It actually makes me laugh to think about him standing in the outfield as a young man, shagging balls for his teammates, staring blankly into space, and questioning what he was doing with his life.

I, on the other hand, looked forward to softball season every summer as a player. While sports like basketball and volleyball were fun and challenging, there is something about being able to be outside with your friends, getting dirty, and daring a pitcher or hitter to attempt to smoke a ball by you. This isn’t the first time I’ve argued that the game of baseball/softball is the best sport on earth.

Fun fact: Baseball is the only sport where the defense controls the ball.

Now that I have two boys playing a combined 100 games in the summer and their little sister who has the distinct pleasure of being dragged to most of them, I can tell you this: Baseball is NOT always the best sport on earth to experience as a parent of a player.

As we enter the month of June (baseball season in the Midwest begins in late April and runs through early July), I know I’m not alone when I say that – despite the fact I haven’t personally played a single inning, I am tired…exhausted actually.

For those of you who are in the same boat as we are with multiple kids involved in athletics, here’s a top 10 list for parents on how to survive a summer of youth sports:

#10 Say yes to any and all invitations to let your youngest child go to a friend’s house. A mom of one of my daughter’s friends asked if my daughter could come over for a play date today. I had to control the urge to give that mom an extra long, awkward embrace when I went to retrieve my child after I watched two games of uninterrupted baseball.

#9 Beg the grandparents to take one of your boys off your hands – divide and conquer transportation to/from baseball tournaments, uniform coordination, and fast food consumption.

#8 Talk yourself out of feeling like the worst mom on the planet because of your inability to clone yourself. You are going to miss out on a few big plays in order to see others.

#7 When the kids aren’t playing up to their potential on the field, do me a favor: Look to your right. Look to your left. Remind yourself that you are not alone in your misery.

#6 Remember what it was like to be a kid. There is a difference between embracing the present and reliving the past. I freely admit that I do a little of both.

Win or lose? Who cares as long as we get to ride the Rhino to drag the field.

Win or lose? Who cares as long as we get to ride the Rhino to drag the field.

#5 Be appreciative of the time that coaches take investing in your child. You may not agree with every piece of strategy they deploy, but every move is made with the full intention of making the team better today than what they were yesterday.

#4 Resist the urge to correct umpires. I’ve come to realize you will run into three types of umps: Those who can tolerate the game, those who love the game, and those who think they are God’s gift to the game. Each type will make mistakes because they are human.

#3 Walk away from drama. Don’t cause it yourself. After all, it’s a GAME. It’s a seemingly never-ending one, but it is a GAME.

#2 Be proud of the boys who succeed and build up the boys who don’t. Whether on or off the field, your child will feel what it’s like to be in both situations throughout their lifetime.

#1 Remember you can never have enough sunflower seeds, peanuts, or farmer’s tan.

Written by Heidi Woodard