SuperMom Is Exhausted

Really, truly exhausted. (But is it so wrong that I've semi-officially dubbed myself that? Its mostly, somewhat true, occasionally sometimes. That should count, right?)

I'm tired. Tired of heartbreaking high school crap. Tired of being the mediator between the boys. Tired of translating "dad-speak", "teenagerese" and "Bug-babble". Extremely tired of testosterone. You truly have no idea how tired of testosterone I really, honestly, to the depths of my soul am.

You all know I love sports in general, and my boys playing sports specifically, right? I've made it very clear that I get the biggest kick out of watching them play and learn and grow as athletes. I've even clued you all in on how I love watching Coach... well, coach.

Friends, this has been a bad week. And its only Tuesday. This is not a good omen for the rest of my week.

Coach and Bug are at an impasse. Bug is often difficult to coach, what with the whole ADHD and Bipolar thing. Coach is just stubborn and difficult.

Jock has once again been benched, and given no reason other than he missed a catch today. I will point out that he was certainly NOT the only boy on the team to miss a damn ball today. Or even in the last game. And could the coach have been at least marginally sensitive, and given Jock this lovely little bit of knowledge in private? No. He called the entire outfield (starters and reserves) over, and announced it that way. Jock and I sat in the parking lot after everything was over and everyone had gone home, while he fought against letting the tears in his eyes fall. I could tell it was hard enough on him for everyone to hear them in his voice. I actually didn't mind the texting he was doing tonight, as a good chunk of them came from his teammates, expressing their disbelief and their support of him. And when he requested Taco Bell for dinner, with a soda (which is strictly forbidden during sports seasons in our house), I large-sized his combo meal.

Have you ever had to just sit back and watch a teenage boy struggle not to cry, knowing it would make it worse if you offered anymore than a softly spoken I love you? That feeling of maternal helplessness sucks. It sucks eggs. Hard.

Oh, but the emotional battle was far from over this evening. Because in the other room, behind closed doors, Coach was beating himself up over this. Is Jock having such a difficult time now because for the last several years he's been coached and taught WRONG? That's a heavy burden for him to bear, having been the coach in question. And now? He's doubting his ability to coach the team he's got this season, and is more worried than he needs to be that he's somehow doing Bug damage as well.

And then the worry crept in that if we only made more money, we would be able to do for our boys what the other parents we know are doing. We could get them personal trainers. We could send Jock to special baseball and football camps. We could get Jock personal hitting lessons. We could get Bug private pitching lessons. We could follow special diets for them. We could do more to ensure that we are absolutely maximizing their talent and abilities, and helping them become the athletes we know they could be.

Coach and I are second guessing our ability to parent these boys in the current community we live in. There are a couple of new schools not too far away. Would Jock do better in one of them? (You think I'm joking.... we have seriously considered moving him to a better athletic environment..... or at least one in which he's better than the competition. I know. We're horrible.)

And you don't even want me to get started on my feelings towards one particular set of parents, who are so amazingly awful that they are constantly trash talking Jock at all the games. No matter what he does, or if there was more than one person involved in the situation on the field.... their first comments are ALWAYS about what Jock did wrong. While they might not be the only parents who have these opinions, they are the only parents who do this where Coach and I CAN HEAR THEM. We don't EVER talk bad about their son. We ALWAYS are supportive of him when he's up to bat or has a great defensive play. We were the same way during football season, where this crap also happened. Its not the kid's fault his parents are asses. Sorry. I know I shouldn't talk like that. I know I don't usually talk like that. But I believe I've already mentioned I'm exhausted. That applies to governing some aspects of my thoughts and speech as well.

Jock's season is over after three more games, but we've still got Little League (he's going to go down and finish the season with a local Little League team as soon as the high school season is over). I'm still going to be mediating and translating for Coach and Bug. But you know what? I'm tapped, folks. I don't know what I can do anymore.

I don't think there's enough chocolate to help me out here. Any ideas for a good substitute?