Our Friday Night Lights Have Gone Dark

It's Friday night, and we didn't go anywhere. There was no rush after work to get changed and to the right place at the right time. No need to make sure I was wearing the perfect clothes, or seated in the perfect spot. And we won't be meeting any new people this year.

The Teenager? Isn't playing football this year.

We've put in years of blood, sweat and tears. Literally; all three. Years to get to his Senior Year of Football. Yes, capitalization was needed. It was that important. This was going to be The Year. The year of greatness.

And it doesn't matter how well thought out his reasons are for choosing not to play this year, or how mature that particular thought process has shown him to have become. It doesn't even really matter that he made the best decision he could make for himself. A tiny piece of my heart still broke tonight.

No more after-game dates with my son. Going for that burger and ice cream each week had become such a necessary part of my life, and I was counting on one last year. One last year of creating enough memories for him to take with him when he leaves, so that he'll be able to pull them out when he finds himself stuck in that awkward time between childhood and adulthood.

One last year of creating enough memories for myself to hold close to my heart, so that when he leaves I won't miss him beyond reason.

"Mom, no worries. We'll still go out this year. Only this time, we won't even need a reason."

I will never know why God chose me to watch over this child; but I will always be grateful. 

*Yes. I got a little "linky". I'm having a hard time letting football go, can you tell?*

Survivor's Guilt?

If you've got kids, there has been at least one instance, one moment in time, when you've had the thought Thank God that wasn't my kid. Be honest; you know you've thought it at least once. If your child plays a contact sport, you've thought it more times than you ever want to admit.

Thursday night's football game was a good one. My kid scored the first touchdown of the game, and our team won. And yet those stats aren't going to be how the game is remembered by most. See, Thursday's game was also an extremely hard played game. Football, by it's very nature, demands extremely hard play. Injuries, while not eagerly anticipated, are not unexpected either. Thursday's game had two; one from each team. Two instances where a player went down, and the trainer went out. Two instances that would cause the clock to stop for however long it took to assess the injury and get the player off the field. Two teams who went down on one knee, showing respect to their fellow athlete. Two players who had mothers in the stand, hands clenched together, chanting under their breath Please let him be okay; Please let him be okay.

One of those mothers, after five minutes, was able to breathe a bit easier. Her son was able to walk off the field; he just had to remove his pads-which he did on his own, albeit with some difficulty-and have his shoulder wrapped in ice for the remainder of the half. She was able to remain in her seat and watch the rest of the game.

The other mother, after five minutes, was called down to the field; where she sat with her son as he lay face down on that field. That mother had to sit there with her boy for another 25 minutes waiting for the ambulance; watching as the first arriving paramedics cut off his pads. She got to follow that ambulance to the nearest hospital; fervently praying the entire way that he would be okay, I imagine.

I have never been more proud of a group of boys, both boys I know and boys I probably never will, than I was on Thursday. To watch the opposing team drop their helmets and all move closer to their teammate, going down to one knee while they waited to see if he would move at all; watching our team, as a whole, down on one knee in a show of respect to a fellow athlete; was so heartbreakingly moving. When the first boy walked off the field, both teams and parents in both stands applauded. When the second boy was rolled off the field on the stretcher, both teams applauded and parents in both stands gave him a standing ovation. Small comfort for his mother, I'm sure.

As I sit here writing this post, its Sunday night. It's been three days since that game, and our school has no more information about that boy now than we did that night. Which might be part of why I am still feeling so anxious for that boy, and still somewhat hovering over mine. Feeling guilty for being grateful.

You see, it was my son that was able to walk off that field on Thursday night while hers couldn't.

Post Game Pieces

After the game on Thursday, while waiting for Jock to come out of the locker room, I was standing with my sister-in-law and killing time. We're standing in the middle of a fairly large crowd of parents and teenagers, when my SIL says to me "Hey... that girl's got Jock's number on her cheek. Do you know her?"

No. No I didn't. And the immediate response from the mama in me was to wonder just who the heck was this girl who was so proudly proclaiming her support for my son? My reaction to that response won't win me any additional points in the Mom of the Year contest, at least in the Offspring Voting category. But it WAS kind of fun....

I walked right up to her, smiled, and said "Excuse me. I know you don't know me, but you've got my son's number on your cheek. And I have no idea who you are."

She smiled, blushed, and stammered "Oh.... I'm a friend of his and he asked me to wear his number!"

"And that's great, I'm glad you support him. But.... Who.Are.You?"

And then she told me her name. Which I actually recognized as someone he talks about and to frequently. I laughed, and told her I'd be sure to tell Jock that I embarrassed her. When I talked to him about it, he admitted that they're kinda crushing on each other right now, so we'll see where it goes.

She really is a cute little brunette with darling dimples when she smiles. And she's the first girl EVER who has come to watch him play. I think this one might be okay.

____________________________________

Speaking of that game on Thursday, Jock told me something else that night.

At one point in the game, there was a 15 yard dead ball personal foul penalty called on the opposing team. The defensive player had shoved himself off my boy AFTER the play while he was still on the ground. The ref saw it, and called it. It's what the ref DIDN'T see that Jock was telling me about later.

Apparently, this kid was all kinds of a wienie, and when he was shoving off Jock, he shoved his hand right through that face mask and into Jock's face. And so my son? Bit his hand.

You saw that right. He. Bit. Him.

There is a part of me that is appalled at that. I mean, you don't just go around biting people. Certainly not when you're 16 years old. But another part of me? The more competitive, don't-be-putting-your-stupid-hands-in-my-boy's-face part of me?

Thinks that if you are dumb enough to put your hand in there on purpose, you deserve the teeth marks.

Do you think that thought redeems myself from asking strange girls why they're wearing my son's number on their face?

There Is Victory In Defeat

Tonight is definitely a very bittersweet night.

You all remember that Thursdays are game nights around here, right? And maybe you've picked up on the little part where we've won every game this season? Oh, and last season. And the season before that. Yeah, two years (plus) undefeated.

Until tonight. Tonight, we lost our first game in over two seasons. And that, my friends? Was a bitter pill to swallow for those boys who have been on each of these undefeated teams. We lost not because we were up against a better team, although that might be possible. No, we lost because, quite simply, we did not play like a winning team. It doesn't matter that there were a handful of boys who played their hearts out. A team is more than just those handful of boys. And when parts of the team fall apart, the whole of the team suffers. And so we lost the first high school football game since we started high school.

Have you ever witnessed anything more heartbreaking than 16 and 17 year old boys walking off the field in tears? Tears. Unashamed, unembarrassed, heartfelt heartbreak.

BUT. And you knew there'd be a "but", right?

Jock was the last player off the field tonight. He walked off with the coaches and headed into the locker room. When he came out, there was something just a bit different about him.

He had a pair of purple football pants around his neck.

Let me explain the significance of that. The Freshman and JV teams do not wear purple football pants. No. Purple football pants are worn by one team only at this school. The Holy Grail of teams. The Varsity.

Once again, based on his performance alone and not because of anything else, my boy has earned a spot on that holiest of teams. He isn't up there just because he's a Junior. He isn't up there just because he played on the coaches Pee Wee league teams for years. No. He's going up there because he's EARNED a spot. And so tomorrow, we will be playing under those revered Friday Night Lights.

And that, my friends? Is the sweet part.

Hosted by Cecily and Linds

Luck. Or Perhaps More Accurately....Superstition

Everyone's heard some story, somewhere, at some time in their lives about the athlete who wouldn't wash his socks or his underwear because the team was on a winning streak; or who wouldn't shave his beard so that he didn't slide into a slump. Or about the ones who have certain rituals before games. These athletes might be going to extremes sometimes, but all athletes will tell you if you ask them that they have something that they do or wear before each game. Its superstition at its finest. And everyone accepts this with a smile and a nod, just knowing that's the idiosyncrasy of an athlete.

But have you ever stopped to consider the superstitious quirks of these athletes' PARENTS?


If you've been around here for any length of time, you know by now that Jock plays on the high school football team. And you know that his team went undefeated his freshman year. And undefeated again his sophomore year. Well, we're at game 4 of his junior year tonight.*


There is a very simple reason for this win streak.


I wear the same shirt, the same socks, and even the same underwear (oh shush..... it's not like you didn't expect something like this! And I'm not going to show you THAT!) each week. And while my socks are just plain fun, the shirt and the underwear reflect the school colors. (Although, upon reflection, I'm not entirely sure why I needed to make sure my underwear was in school colors. Its really not like I EVER expect there to be an occasion where I need to flash those to show my school pride.)


There is simply no changing them now. Although I do actually launder them. I have to draw the line somewhere, you know?


*I'm writing this post before the game. As soon as I'm done, I'll be doing my Lucky Mascot Dance to do my part to ensure we continue on just like this. And no, there will be no video.







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Definitions Are Subjective Sometimes

Every family has them. Every person has something that could probably be termed as such. They can be shared between friends. Large groups of people, small groups, or even just a couple of people could have them. I'm talking about Traditions.

Our family has several. Many of which I have to fight constantly to keep, as at least one of the men in my life at any given time is just not cooperating with what I need to remain emotionally balanced. But there are some that everyone enjoys, everyone looks forward too, and they are just absorbed seamlessly into our lives.

Jock and I have just such a tradition. It's one that he will outgrow, as it can only last as long as high school does. But it's one that I hope will mean enough to him that it becomes something he does with his child eventually. We started this his freshman year, and have just continued on, right up through tonight. After every game, when he's climbed off the team bus and climbed into my truck; when it's just the two of us, we go grab a burger and talk about the highlights of his game. His highlights of the game. And I really believe he looks forward to this tradition as much as I do. A text conversation tonight proves it. (Well, at least it does to me; I HAVE been known to "find" validation in just about anything if it suits me. But, it's my kid, my feelings and my blog. Work around it if it bothers you.) **

Jock: So, Mom, since you love me so much....where are you taking me for dinner when we get to the school?
Me: Anywhere you want, as long as it's close to home!
Jock: Cool. Thanks.
Me: I love you, you know that. Besides, it's sorta become our tradition to go grab a burger after your games.
Jock: This is true. Cool.

See? So it goes without saying (except, um... I'm saying it, apparently) that this is one of those traditions that just .... happen. With no eye rolling, whining or gnashing of teeth.

Who said traditions had to be traditional?

**Okay, so I edited his "text-speak" just a bit. For the purposes of your understanding what the heck he was saying. I'm sure you understand.

***Oh, and? For the curious out there, we WON the game tonight. And? Jock had the final score of the game, with a 60 yard carry. Fun fact about this? The final score of our team, that the touchdown that Jock scored to get to that number? Was the exact number as his jersey. Freaky? Or just plain cool? You decide for yourself; but we thought it was AWESOMELY COOL!

School Pride and Promises

I know there's a school fight song at my son's high school. That doesn't mean I actually know the song. That is probably a shameful thing to admit, especially since that song is played after every single touchdown the football team scores. And over the last two seasons, with both the Freshman and last year's JV team going UNDEFEATED, there have been approximately 128 touchdowns (I'm not even kidding; the average score for our team for each game for those two years: 48) I have heard that song A LOT. Yet I don't know it.

What I DO know is that tomorrow marks the first time this season I get to wear MY football uniform. And yes, I do have specific clothes that I wear; and I'm convinced that is why our team went undefeated for two seasons. Yes, I do have sports superstitions; why do you ask?

Tomorrow morning, I will don very specific underthings. A very specific pair of pants. A very specific shirt. Everything, with the exception of my pants, is in the school colors. (Not the pants, because let's face it; NO ONE looks good in pants of this color. You'll just have to trust me on this one.) Fortunately, this is a good color scheme for me. Although I'd wear it even if it wasn't.

Last night, when I got home from work and did my regular stop in Jock's room on my way in from the garage (I do this every night. I walk in, drop my stuff in the hallway outside his door, go in and shut the door; then I sit on his bed while he takes a break from his homework and we talk about ... whatever. I think it might be one of my favorite times of day.). When I mentioned to him that I'd be at the game, and be on time, he made a comment to me that might just sum up my entire parenting life:

Mom, you're ALWAYS there. And you're ALWAYS on time.

I made a promise to that kid some time ago that I would always be there. Through many job changes and life circumstances, that hasn't always been an easy promise to keep. But I am so proud of my son for always working so hard each week, playing with heart, dedication and commitment, and displaying good sportsmanship at all times that I make the effort to keep that promise.

And while I might not know the school song, I do know the school colors. And I can be found proudly sporting them every week.

Because I'm always there.

They Can Teach Me, Too

Here we are, Junior year of high school. We're still playing football! Since our school doesn't actually "cut" in most of the sports, we don't even have to worry too much about what team we're playing on. We know we're at least as good as some of the other guys playing up on Varsity, so we're pretty confident that's where we're going to be. Sure, we'd get more reps in certain positions we play if we played down on JV, which would ultimately make us a stronger player (especially next year, when as a Senior it will really matter!); but hey! It's VARSITY! And that's where we want to be. That's where we deserve to be.

Gah. Reading through that paragraph literally causes my stomach to clench. I get tense and all stressed out, and do you know why? Go back and read through that paragraph again, and see if you catch just what is being said that is making me wonky.

Did you catch it? Read it again.... slower this time. And pay special attention to all use of any pronouns.

Get it yet?

Yep. That persistent use of the word "WE".

Now, regardless of whether or not you know me as an actual, live person or not, I will confess something here. I, The Sports Mama, have never--not once--donned a pair of football pads. I've never even tried on a helmet. Not even for a Halloween costume. And despite the fact that Jock once mentioned at a Thanksgiving dinner that he was thankful he got his athletic talent from me, I'm definitely not really in the running to EVER put on a football uniform. Ever. So why on earth am I including myself in what he does or doesn't do on the field?

As parents, I think we're all guilty at one time or another of trying to live vicariously through our children. If you try to tell me that you don't do that, I'm just going to remind you that you don't have a teenager yet. Trust me. When your child is old enough, you WILL try to relive certain moments (or live them for the first time if you didn't get to do it when you were that age) as they grow up. For Coach and I, we apparently try to live through our boys athletic prowess. It's easy enough to do, as our boys really are athletically talented. What we don't factor in often enough is that OTHER parents have children who are just as talented as our boys. Well, in their opinion, anyway. However, we keep being smacked in the face with the fact that the coaches? Are actually (mostly) impartial. And they really do (mostly) make the decisions that are best for the team.

So when Jock explained to me that he was pulled back down to JV for this season, at least to start off, he waited for me to finish my "but-you're-every-bit-as-good-as-those-other-boys-and-I-can't-believe-THAT-one-is-still-on-Varsity-when-you're-not-and-why-are-you-not-more-upset-about-this" spiel. Quite patiently, actually. And then he looked at me, asked if I was done, and very calmly said

Mom, I'm ok with it. I actually would PREFER to be down at JV right now. At least there, I get to start instead of riding the Varsity bench.

He might as well have had the words I'M OK WITH IT printed on a towel and smacked me across the face with it. That stunned me that much. Which made me realize a few things. One, (and this one shocked me) I'm not the one playing, he is. Two, if he's ok with it, I need to be. And three, he's got a good point. Where is the glory in being on the Varsity if you never get to play? Wouldn't anyone rather be one of the stars of the JV team, if it means playing time? He's guaranteed a starting spot, and has been approached by mulitple coaches at that level about how they are so glad he's down there, they can definitely use his ability and his leadership skills to strengthen what could be a not-so-strong JV team. And in making this move graciously, he's proving to the coaches that he is willing to do what it takes to be an asset to the program, and to strengthen himself.

(On a side note, I'm discovering I can spin just about anything to make him look good to a college recruiter. I should hire myself out to other parents, no?)

And then he reminded me that football is NOT what he wants his career to be. He's been planning for a while now to go into law enforcement. So for him, football is something he enjoys that he would like to continue playing in college; but it's not his life.

I can read between the lines there; and he's telling me to back off. I get it. And he's right. Besides, I remember how much I just love watching him PLAY. And now I get to do that a little more this season.

Who knew that one of the hardest things about parenting a teenager would be simply letting them enjoy the life they are living?

Don't Stop Believin'

As a parent, you try really hard NOT to get so caught up in your own world that you don't notice your children's world happening around you. (At least, that's what I am trying really hard not to do. I suppose I can't speak for the rest of you parents out there.) You should also strive to remember that no matter how fondly you might remember it, or how vivid it all is in your mind, certain things from the era in which you grew up simply.... change. It helps to remember these two ideas simultaneously when you make a comment that is absolutely understood 100% completely by someone who also experienced the era of your youth, but taken entirely out of context by your child. Because if you forget one of these ideas, more specifically the first one, you could find yourself inadvertently (although on the flip side, this is something to be amazingly proud of) on the receiving end of a lesson in discrimination and bigotry.

Did anyone else miss the fact that Journey has a new lead singer? One that, if you were not in the same room at the time he started singing, would lead you to think that he sounded incredibly similar to the OLD lead singer? So similar, in fact, that you didn't quite realize it WASN'T the old lead singer? (And on a related side note? Where the heck was I when that karaoke contest was going on???)

Bug was laying on the sofa this afternoon, watching the pre-game show for that Game That Broke The Collective Heart Of Arizona today. (Also on another side note? Whoever is deciding the final outcome of these Season Finale Games each season? Would You PLEASE stop making decisions that end up with my teenage son crushed and zombie-like in his disappointment? Two years in a row might be a bit much, don'tcha think? Thank you so much!) Journey came on, and after a few bars of music I wandered into the room. And stopped dead in my tracks. That? Was NOT Steve Perry.

Me: What the....?? Who is that? He just looks..... weird.
Bug: Mo-om... he does not look weird. He looks just like any normal Asian person. That's not very nice of you to say he looks weird, Mom.

Which is where I explained that the reason he looked weird was only because he wasn't Steve Perry. Which led to a strange discussion of who Steve Perry was, but that conversation went nowhere pretty quickly, as Bug had absolutely no idea who I was talking about. But he did stop thinking I was a mean person for thinking the new lead singer looked weird.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As tradition demands, we held our annual Big Game party today. Bigger this year, because we actually had friends over, and not just family. Yes... FRIENDS!! I know, it's hard for Coach and I to believe as well. But honest to goodness, people, we finally have real friends. Friends who come to our house. And stay for several hours. Who bring really good food to share.

These friends also have kids. Granted, most of these kids are younger than Bug. Turns out I'm discovering that my little Bug LOVES being the oldest kid around. Makes him feel all sorts of important or something, I guess. In preparation for all of these kids coming over, Bug had to clean his room. I didn't pay attention to all of the details when he was finished, just glanced in to make sure that the floor was once again visible, the laundry was put away, and the toys weren't underfoot. Looked fine to me. And so our party commenced.

But when everyone was gone, and it was time for our bedtime ritual, Bug started pulling out all of the mulitude of stuffed animals he sleeps with from various hiding spots. Not a single one had been left on his bed. Which had me looking closer at the bed. The pillow case had been changed, as well. I didn't say anything to him, because quite frankly I was feeling kind of foolish for wondering why he'd changed the pillowcase. That, and a little afraid of the answer I might receive. But I did stand there with one eyebrow raised (well, as much as I can pull off raising only one eyebrow) while he was removing these animals from hiding.

Did you know that if you just stand still, one eyebrow raised, and look at your child and what activity they are currently engaged in that they will start spilling the beans about the entire thing?

Bug: I didn't want them all to see my stuffed animals or the Mickey Mouse pillow case, Mom.
Me: Ahh... you wanted them all to think you were totally more grown up than they were, didn't you?
Bug: Yeah. It's ok if you know I still sleep with these, but not everyone else.

I am losing my baby. Oh, it's a slow process, I'll grant you that. But it's happening. One culturally accepting, open-minded, non-biased thought and hidden stuffed animal at a time.

From Snap to Whistle

I've talked to you before about what I think football does for my boys. No matter how their seasons turn out, my stance on that doesn't change. I still believe in the goodness of the sport.

Jock has been playing now for several years. When we got to the high school level, it became something more than just a game. It had morphed into a way to define himself. The sense of pride that came with being able to say that he played on the high school team was indescribable.

We (notice the use of "we" here, like I was on the team with him or something) went undefeated our freshman year last year. That was amazing, as it was the first time the freshman team had done that in more years than anyone could remember. The freshmen were also the only team at the school to do that last year. JV couldn't do it. Varsity didn't achieve that goal, either. It was amazing to see how that one fact, the fact of being the only team to go undefeated, built these boys up to a level of self-confidence not often seen in 14 year old boys.

This season was their second year together. You could see that they had gotten accustomed to playing with each other; they were able to work together seamlessly. Each game showcased just a little more talent, and a lot more heart from a group of boys who didn't seem to know how to NOT give everything they had to that field. Week after week, game after game. And you know what?

This is what we ended up with:

And this is what UNDEFEATED looks like in a group:


And this? This is how UNDEFEATED FOR TWO STRAIGHT SEASONS looks on a 15 year old:


I think UNDEFEATED looks pretty darn good. I think UNDEFEATED FOR TWO STRAIGHT SEASONS looks even better. Tired, yes. Sweaty, certainly. (And believe me when I tell you that nothing, NOTHING, smells quite like Just-Stepped-Out-Of-The-Locker-Room boy. I alternately loathe that smell, and love it. It is beyond a doubt a smell I will mourn when both of them have left my little nest.)



But it is unarguably one of my favorite looks on these boys.





Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Excerpt From The Offical Rulebook of Cousinhood

You might not know it yet, but these kids are the most adorable kids since my own were this size. Trust me on this one.

I think I've mentioned that Coach's brother has a couple sets of twins. You've even seen one of the girls. (Extra bonus points if you can tell me which post it was in! No, no prizes, but you still the get bonus points!) All four of these kids adore....ADORE... Jock. Seriously adore him.

He roughhouses with them. He gives them hugs and cuddles. He goes to the girls' soccer games and dance recitals. He plays cars with the boys. Basically, he pays attention to them. And when your super cool teenage cousin pays attention to you, the rules say you have to idolize him forevermore. No, really. It's in the Official Rules of Cousinhood book.

Tonight, Grandma brought the kids to Jock's game. And they (mostly, at any rate) all watched the game and cheered him on. But one of the boys, the one who seems to be the most attached to Jock, was almost too cute to bear tonight. From the moment he spotted me in parking lot (Aunt Sports Mama! Aunt Sports Mama!) he started in with Where's my Jock? (ya know.... that sentence sounds a LOT less dirty when it's used with Jock's real life name. Honest!) And then the near-constant Where? Where is he? kept up for most of the first half of the game.

But then he found him. And managed to keep pretty good track of him. So the Where is he? changed to I want my Jock! Jo-ock.....where are you? And after the game, he came up to me, grabbed my hand, and said I go get Jock now, 'k Aunt Sports Mama?

So off we went to wait where the team comes off the field, among all the other parents. (Side note... Jock is always awesome at coming up to me while I wait there after the game and giving me a hug. Right in front of everyone. How cool is that??) I picked up the baby, and we waited. As patient as a three-year old can, with lots of Where is he? Where's my Jock?

And then, there he was. Walked right up to us, gave me a hug, and a little fist pop and a nose tweak to his cousin.

Is he not the coolest 15 year old boy you know?

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Friday Night Lights

As you know, the Varsity game was Friday night. As you also know, Jock was called up for this game. What you might not know is that just because a JV player gets called up, it doesn't mean he gets to play. And these boys are all ok with that. They truly consider it an honor just to suit up with the Varsity team, even if all they do is hang out on the sidelines. We knew that going into this game, and it was actually a good thing. It meant that we could watch the game without always needing to make sure we knew where our player was!

And it was a pretty good game. Our Varsity represented well, and we did win the game. Sadly, I let Coach man the camera. I wish I could say that turned out well......

We ended up with a couple of passable shots. And a whole lot of really bad shots. Apparently, he was playing with the various settings on the camera. Guess he thought it was a good idea, since Jock probably wasn't going to be playing? I could share a few of them with you, but let's leave him with some points on his man-card, shall we? After all, he DID end up capturing this video clip...... which just so happened to be the first of the TWO plays Jock actually got to be in on!

Oh yeah... he got to play! He should be easy to spot, on the far side of the screen at the right tackle position. His jersey is the only one with the stripe on the sleeve, since he got to wear his own jersey, which is just slightly different than the regular Varsity jerseys.

He was the ONLY player brought up from JV who got to play. So I ask you.... any idea how stinkin' proud I am right at this moment? And, more importantly, any idea how long he's planning on milking his 10 seconds of fame?

Sweaty Blades of Grass

*no, we are NOT the Rams. Our home field was being seeded this week, so we had to borrow a neighboring military academy's field. We still won the game, and yes, that was our final score.*

My night ended with me hugging, quite tightly, an incredibly sweaty, smelly teenage boy. (Actually, I think I hugged two of them. The one NOT related to me was quite understanding of the entire thing.) While I cried silly, senseless mom-tears. My hands were shaking. I couldn't stop smiling. I'd let go of him just to throw my arms, once again, around the part of his neck I could actually reach over those shoulder pads. And I just squeezed his sweaty head against my cheek.

My mother in law had to pick a couple blades of grass off, I believe.

The night began with the worry that he once again wouldn't get to play much. And honestly, he never gets his shot at defense, which is where he's wanted to be from the beginning. So when they put him out there, I wasn't expecting them to leave him out there for more than a play or two.

But then..... then he did something no one else on this team has done before. This same group of boys didn't manage to do this last year, either. (And I'm just sick over the fact that I didn't get video of this one, let me tell you!) My boy....my incredibly talented, making the most of his opportunities boy..... blocked a punt. And he just kept making amazing plays, one after the other. He followed the blocked punt up with an offensive run of over 60 yards to catch up to the receiver, make an absolutely amazing block that literally lifted the defender off his feet and threw him several feet away, thereby enabling our receiver to run into the end zone. This one actually prompted one of the VARSITY coaches to go up to the announcer's box, where we then heard the announcer say: Coach Toolman (*not his real name*) would like everyone in the stands to give an extra huge round of applause to #58, Jock Athlete, for that amazing block out there!

I am always amazed by my son, you know that. I am always impressed by the way he plays, and the way he acts, you know that as well. And so it never surprises me to see him perform random acts of exemplary sportsmanship.

He continues to bust his butt every week out there for these coaches, for this team, because he loves the sport. He doesn't just love to play, he loves to play hard and leave it all on the field. He plays with his heart, and he's fortunate enough to have the talent to back that up. And now? Now I know the coaches have noticed that. (Ok, ok.. now JOCK knows the coaches have noticed. Sheesh, people.) Wanna know how I know?

WE GET TO BE ON THE FIELD, UNDER THOSE BEAUTIFUL FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS TOMORROW!!!

So I cried. My hands shook. I launched myself at him, squeezing the life out of him. (He was heard at one point saying, "Mom, can I please breathe now?" into my hair. Yeah, I was squeezing that hard. Sue me.) His friend and teammate, who also is being pulled up for tomorrow's Varsity game, happened over to congratulate Jock, and he got himself hugged by me as well. And then I just had to squeeze my son again, holding his sweaty head tight against my cheek.

And my mother in law picked off a couple of blades of grass.

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Photo Albums Are For Memories, Right?

Being the parent of a teenager is a job that can't always be described as easy. There are times you forget how fun it can be, and lose sight of how rewarding it truly is.

There are the struggles over homework.

There are the many, many, many requests to give in to one thing or another.

There is the steady growing older that they do, never realizing that it ages their parents as well.

There can be the endless rounds of sports practices and games, always feeling like you're getting home just to leave again.

But when you see them grin at you.....

And watch how they treat other people in their lives...

You really start to see just what it is about them that will lead to you gaining a daughter-in-law in about ten to fifteen years.

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

A Matter of Perception

I always find it interesting to see how other people view someone. To see what they think a person's strengths are. And as a mother, I love hearing what other people think of my kids. Granted, I like hearing the good stuff more than the bad, but I still always find it interesting to hear how others see me and my family.

Bug brought home a paper that the class had completed today. The assignment was to put your name at the top, and pass it around the class. Each student would write their name, and then one thing they liked about you. They had the freedom to make that one, single thing about anything they wanted. It could be personal. It could be classroom related. It could be anything. There are 28 kids in Bug's class, so he had 27 responses. Two girls think he's funny. Two girls think he's smart and a good student. One classmate (its one of those names that could be for either a boy or a girl, and I didn't ask because I have a sneaking suspicion I should know this kid) said he was a good friend. And one boy apparently likes the fact that Bug is "active". I'm not sure what that meant, but it was meant as a compliment, so we'll take it.

The other 21 kids? Think he rocks the sports fields.

So here's my dilemma. I love it that he so obviously excels in something that he absolutely loves. I love it that he's getting the recognition from his peers that most kids secretly want. I love it that he's living like a rock star at the top of his game.

What I'm worried about is that being the only thing people ever see in him. I worry that no one will ever see the generous heart beating inside that boy, the heart that prompts him to always forgive people who aren't always nice to him. The heart that enables him to wring every last drop of enjoyment out of every moment of his life. I worry that no one will ever see beyond the athlete who breaks through both the offensive and defensive lines with such relish and power to the sensitive boy inside who loves to be openly affectionate and who is incredibly creative. I worry that no one will ever see the Bug that I see. The Bug that I love so very much, and who is capable of so very much love in return.

But I guess its my job to worry about those things. I'm his mom. If you were to ask him, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be worried about it at all.

Education Doesn't Have to Stay In The Classroom

Football has taught my boys so many life lessons. It has taught them how to be a part of team. A part of something bigger than just themselves.


Football has given them common ground with their peers, so they can make friends that will hopefully last a lifetime. (Or at least all through school!)


Football has taught them how to assess a situation, and make a decision using their best judgement.




Football has taught them the benefits of good hydration.


Football has taught them sportsmanship, and how to be both humble after a win and gracious after a loss. (BTW...we won tonight. 40-12)

Football has helped to teach them to believe and have faith in a higher power, to look to Him for protection and guidance; and to not be ashamed to show that belief in front of others.


Football has also given them the ability to detect their mom with her camera anywhere on the field. And react accordingly.



**I really wasn't standing that close to him in any of these shots. I just discovered my camera has an awesome zoom lens!**


Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

When Is A Thumb NOT A Finger?

We spent four hours in the Arizona sun on Saturday. My shoulders, neck and face are a spectacular shade of red as a result. Bug was knocked flat on his back, and was left with a bruise across the bridge of his nose and two slightly black eyes because of it.

I love opening weekend of football season. I truly do. (Even if this Saturday's event was technically a "round robin scrimmage", where our team scrimmaged each team we're going to actually face this season, in the order we face them, and not a true game.) I even remembered the camera. And? Fresh batteries.

Our team really didn't do too bad, actually. Our first game is this upcoming Saturday, and I think we'll be as prepared as we can be. The very last scrimmage, the very last play, is when Bug took the hit head on at full speed that laid him out. If you've been reading me since the beginning, you'll remember this happened last year in his first game, as well. Apparently its the new tradition here. He laid there on that field for a good five minutes, struggling to breathe and holding his head (he did that last year, too.... wonder why that's where his hands automatically go?). Coach and I were both out there, testing his strength ("Squeeze my fingers" and "Push against my hand") and his vision. I knew he'd be fine when I was asking him how many fingers I was holding up. I went through a series of different fingers, in no order, when I held up all five. His response told me he was back to normal.

Only four, mom. That last one's a thumb.

And so that you can share in the awesomeness that is youth football in the Arizona heat, here are some pictures of Bug's team. The tall guy in the middle of them all? That would be Coach. And for the record? That man didn't get sunburned at all.

**BONUS EDIT**

Here's a couple of random quotes from this weekend that I just loved, and so decided to share with you all......

"How did Bug's football scramble go?" ~~ Grandma (aka Mama G)

"Football is all about trickeration, boys." ~Coach Lou (our head coach....Coach is the defensive coordinator for the team)

Yeah, Baby. I Saw It!

I am an awesome mother. No, really. I can prove it.

Tonight was Jock's first game of the season. He was super stoked about it. He brought home his jersey last night, and even modeled it for me. He looked great! I simply can not believe my boy is growing up so stinkin' fast. It really feels like just a few short days ago that he was looking to me for everything. And he was always asking Did you see that, mom?

And I always answered Yep, baby. I saw it! Awesome!

(I am a product of the 80's. Awesome is a permanent part of my vocabulary.)

I must have eight zillion pictures of this kid at various stages of life. Some are in albums, a small number have been digital so are on the computer; but the vast majority are in shoe boxes, haphazardly arranged by his age. For almost every single time he'd ask Did you see that, mom? I've got some sort of photographic evidence.

That is, until he started high school. More specifically, started playing high school football. I've got pictures of his freshman baseball season last year, so apparently the issues lie just with football.

I present to you the ONLY photograph we have of high school football. It was taken tonight, and quite frankly it sucks. Our regular camera's batteries were discovered dead the other night, and I neglected to replace them. And I remembered that after I realized I had just forgotten the stupid thing tonight, anyway. So I had to resort to the cell phone camera. Which doesn't have the oomph to zoom from the stands to the field itself. Once again proving how I absolutely ROCK as a mother. *sigh*

We've still got the rest of the year for me to get it right, right?

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Coming Attractions

Ok people.... let this post serve as the only warning you are going to get.....

Football season is officially here! Games start this week for both boys, so for the next 8 weeks (or more if we hit the playoffs on a good roll!) you are most likely going to be subjected to injury updates, game scores, and why we might be hacked off at any of the coaches at any given time.

Also coming up in the next 8 weeks.....

Coach's birthday!! YES! He's on the downhill slide to 40! Personally, its not bothering me that much. That might be because I think all the gray he's getting at his temples is kinda sexy. Or it might be because no matter how many ways he looks at it, I'm still younger than he is. Granted, it's only by 5 months, but still!

Homecoming! Since I know how much you all live to experience the drama that is teenage boyhood in my house, I'll have to keep you updated. The dance isn't until into October, so there is still a chance Jock will end up going.

And I'm relatively sure (or maybe that's just "hopeful") that there will be other events just as important and blog-worthy as those. Because let's face it.... we're heading into the last quarter of the year. Halloween. Thanksgiving. Christmas. MY ANNIVERSARY! He'll really have to work to top last year's celebration. Or not. Maybe just the knowledge that we've made it through another year, with all the mess we've been going through, will be enough.

And then, heading into next year is when I'll probably start to freak out on you all on a regular basis. Once we hit January, we've only got 6 more months until Jock is driving. Although really, the blog fodder that is going to generate should keep you all well entertained for a good, long time.

And only eight months until Bug will be in junior high.

Only two more years from then until Jock graduates high school.

One more year after that that Bug STARTS high school.

And the insanity begins again.

Really, its enough to make a grown woman sit huddled in the corner, rocking back and forth, hands fisted in her hair, manically repeating Makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop.

Or that might just be me.

The Story Of My Life

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Sports are the story of my life. More specifically, my boys and their particular sports are the story of my life. All three of my boys.

Bug..... my little Bug. I've shared with you highlight stories and lowlight stories from his budding football career. Football season has just started again for him, and this year is shaping up to be more of the same. His head coach wants to make him the backbone of the team. That's a lot of responsibility for a ten year old. That's a lot of responsibility for that ten year old's mom as well. He has to be prepared to do well on the field. I've got to be prepared to keep his self esteem at its highest. With this kid, and all his many quirks.... I think he's got the easier job.

Jock..... my oh-so-tough teenager. You've commiserated with me after some major disappointments, and you've celebrated with me some fantastic successes. He's been in training for football season since before school even got out last year. Practices officially started this week. Hell Week, as he pointed out to me tonight. Geez, Mom... why do you ask how practice went? Its Hell Week... its not supposed to be good.

Coach....my most-of-the-time willing partner in this whole parenting gig we got roped into 15 years ago. This man lives and breathes for sports, and he found his life's calling in coaching. The joy that fills this man when he's able to teach a young athlete something new about a sport he's passionate about is amazing to see. I honestly believe he grows at least another foot taller every time he steps into the middle of that huddle. It always humbles me to see the effect on him when these kids believe in him and what he's teaching.

Yes, my life revolves around their athletic schedules. We've either got practice or a game every day of the week. On the rare occasions we don't have one of those, we're usually parked at home, because there are game plans to create or play books to study. And at the end of it all, these three guys get all the glory. What do I get out of this life?


I get the privilege of watching my boys mature into self-assured young men, and the honor of sharing with my husband as he rediscovers within himself what everyone else finds so awe-inspiring and amazing.

Me? I get to enjoy to the fullest possible extent the story of my life.