One of the ongoing and interesting conversations between my dear husband and I, is whether or not our 8-year old son should play competitive-level sport.

“WHAT??…” you might say … “they have competitive level sports for kids that young?”

Oh yes they do!  And I have been pretty vocal (when asked) about saying that I think this is too young for kids to be labeled as playing ‘competitive sport’.  They have to try-out and be deemed “good enough” to make the team.  And then - hockey or baseball - they’re on the ice/diamond 4 times a week (!!).

They’re kids.  Shouldn’t they be off doing kid-stuff, like playing and riding their bikes and - well - playing?  Isn’t this putting a higher-than-needed level of competition and expectations on them, that is not only unfair and unnecessary but unhealthy?

Well - that was my opinion.  AND I’m sticking to it.  Well … mostly.

Here’s the dilemma.  We believe that kids and sports are a healthy combination.  Each of our boys plays one main sport / season and then in-between they get exposure to other sports and stuff.  So, for instance, our 8-year old plays hockey in the winter, baseball in the summer and the in-between season (spring) he played volleyball, through a great introductory PUC program.

Ok - so - we agree:  sport is good.  However, hubby and I disagree on the level of sport.  He thinks competitive is good for kids this age if they have the talent.  I think not so very good (please see above for reasons why).

This summer our boy played baseball - houseleague (even though we were asked a number of times if he wanted to tryout for competitive … he’d be really good in competitive … ).  I held to my guns.

In a conversation when talking to my dear hubby, I commented on how unhappy I was with the level and calibre of coaching our son is receiving this season.  And there you have it!~  Hubby very nicely pointed out that this is the key difference between HL and competitive.  That - and the number of times they play - which greatly increases their practice and exposure to skill-building of the sport.

So - what to do?  Hockey season is fast-approaching (yes, I know it’s only the end of July, but we’re going to blink and it will be October).  Allow him to try-out for competitive hockey and see if he makes it - and then live with the schedule - or keep him in HL and (as someone once said to me at my babyshower for said-son-to-be) “strive for mediocrity”.

What do you think?

I’m at rookieball today, and my eldest son has a game.  So - these kids are about 6-8 years old.  Still little people (in my opinion) but finding their way …

It’s beginning to rain, but this is a make-up game for one that was cancelled earlier in the summer (rain, of course - seems like this is the summer of eternal rain on baseball nights)  so they’re going to try to squeeze in as many innings as possible.

One little guy gets up to bat, swings his heart out, but doesn’t connect.  As the only two spectator parents in the crowd for our team, I’m coincidentally sitting beside his mom.  He’s out.  No hit. And he’s devastated (he’s probably 7 years old).  He comes off the diamond and you can see in his face that he’s so utterly disappointed.  He’s heading towards his mom.  His eyes well up with tears.  I so feel for this little guy and just want to hug him.  His mother says:  “No - don’t start.  You know what happens if you cry.”

So - I respond, instinctively, trying to break this energy by saying “that’s ok buddy - you can try again.  It’s hard to hit in the rain”.  He’s looking at his mom and getting more upset “but I just wanted to hit the ball.  I just wanted to hit it.”.

His mom says ” that’s it - you know what happens when you cry.  Get your stuff and get in the car.”  And so it begins.  This makes him more upset - likely because he is embarrassed, having super-intense emotions AND he doesn’t want to leave his team, his game.

She turns to me and very reasonably says:  “he has to stop crying.  So we’ve told him - if he crys, no matter where we are, we leave”.  “Really?”  I venture to say.  “In our house, we are taking the opposite approach.  One of my boys holds his feelings in so much, it makes his stomach and his head hurt.  It’s good if they cry.”

I (of course) want to give this boy a big hug, build up his confidence in himself and send him out again … I can’t believe this is her parenting strategy.

She looks at me like I’m nuts, and leaves the diamond, her 7-year old little boy, crying and trailing behind her.  And believe it or not, this is not the first time I’ve seen this happen.  It happened about a month ago - with a 4-year old boy, on the TBall diamond.  Four years old!  He was crying and mom was threatening him with going home, if he didn’t stop.

So - here I have two thoughts.  First:  Why can’t boys cry?  How old is too old to cry?  When we teach our boys to hold in their emotions and not find a constructive outlet for them (which should be their parent’s arms and then a conversation to help them work through what they’re feeling) we are not giving them effective tools and strategies to carry them into their older years.  Guess what? That bottled up, pushed down emotion will come out some day / some time.  Likely in aggression and anger at themselves and/or at others around them.

Second:  Is it about the child’s feelings or the parent’s?  Are parents so uncomfortable with their own emotions, that they can’t handle the display of feelings in their own child?  Or are they simply embarrassed?  Well, in my experience - likely both are true.  Is it hard to work through our own acquired emotional baggage so we can help our kids be healthier?  Hell yes.  It’s hard.  But it’s the right thing to do.  Otherwise we run the risk of recreating all the stuff we grew up with that was not as healthy as it could have been.

And is it embarrassing when our child is crying in public?  Is it hard when they’re not doing what we’ve planned and what we want them to do at that particular time?  Hell yes.  But truly, how would you feel if you were having a bad day - completely devastated about something - brought you to tears - and then you go to the person you trust the most with those feelings (partner, parent, friend) and they embarrassed you further, and then marched you out to the car - all the while telling you not to cry.

Hmmm … not so good.  I’m getting a tight feeling in my chest just thinking about it.  Take 10 seconds.  Put yourself in their shoes.  What are they feeling?  What do they need?  Sometimes we don’t have to have the answers at all.  Sometimes they just want a hug and to know that you love them.  Even though they just struck-out in baseball.

Children need to cry.  Boys especially need to cry.  Give them a safe and warm place to do it.  Once the crying is out, then help them sort through how they’re feeling.  You’ll both feel better for it.

Summer is here and with it comes the wonderful experience of summer camps!  Daycamp - that is.  I’m not quite ready for “away” camp for any of my boys.

So 4 and 8 years old … off they go on a big school bus to the YMCA camp.  I know they’ll be safe.  It’s well-run and the staff are fantastic.  And yet, as the mom watching these (still) little boys get on that gigantic bus - I’m unsure.  Have I put Nolan in a camp (for the experience and all that great stuff) when he’s still too young?  Will Owen enjoy the new friends and experiences or will he be bored or unsure?  Is there ever a time when (as the mom) I just feel confident about these kinds of choices - or will I always wonder (ok, and worry just a little).

After the first day - they didn’t want to go back.  After the second day they were up and ready to go, I dropped them at the bus.  Had my smooch and a snug and on the bus they get.  And there I am, standing outside waving like a maniac - and they’re like:  “Bye mom!  See you” … and not even one look back. So, I get in my car and I go to work.  Happy - and yet sad.  But mostly happy.

This is the way it’s supposed to be - it’s healthy, you know.  From an attachment standpoint, this shows they feel good about our connection and are confident in the love we share - to know it will last them all day and they’ll come home at supper ready to be filled up again.  They’re not clinging and crying and panicked.  Mission accomplished.  Whew.  And in my heart, I know I feel the same way … but boy, I still miss them and hope they’ll be ok.  I guess camp is a good experience for all of us.

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