Alex is an anomaly. One minute he is wise beyond his years and helpful beyond necessary. The next he is stomping his way up the stairs and yelling he will never eat dinner with us again. As our friend Jeremy once told me, “Give the kid a break, he’s like 48 in a seven year old body. It can’t be easy.”
I try to remember that when he slams his door and rattles the kitchen chandelier.
Slowly, I’m starting to see an emergence of maturity.
Alex has yet to find his niche in team sports and Brandon and I think it’s really important he find one he enjoys.
Tennis and golf are great, but don’t really provide the experience of being on a team. Until you’re in high school and your 82 on nine holes kills the team score and causes your coach to withhold dinner on the long trip home.
One of the school newsletters mentioned try outs would be held for the Noblesville Swim Club. Anyone six years old and older was eligible. I held my breath and asked Alex if he had any interest. He has shunned summer swim teams because he is an activity commitment phobe like his mother. He didn’t want to be chained to a starting block each and every morning and I didn’t blame him. So, when he responded with an enthusiastic, “Yes!” I was slightly stunned.
After coming to terms with the fact we’d be surrendering three evenings a week for practice and a good chunk of our weekends, we went for it. Alex attended two evenings of practice and they seemed to go quite well. He had never done a proper backstroke and at first try looked something akin to a windmill. After a little coaching from Annie’s husband, Ryan, Alex “got it,” and did really well. Alex had never mastered side breathing during freestyle, but that came along nicely too.
Try outs were on Thursday and Alex was pumped. I was a nervous wreck. Turns out, I had good reason to be. During the freestyle, Alex stopped five or six times! I tried to mentally will him to keep going, but it didn’t work. The after report was that his goggles were leaking. I’m not sure I buy it since the phenomenon never occurred during practice. His backstroke however, was fantastic!
When he got out of the pool, I told him how proud of him I was for trying something, but explained to him that making it across the pool using proper strokes without stopping was a requisite. I braced myself for a meltdown, but instead he said, “Yeah, I know. I probably won’t make it, but it was fun and I learned a lot about how to do the strokes.
On the drive home he asked me if I ever didn’t make cheerleading when I tried out. I told him no, but that I always wanted to try out for swim team but wasn’t confident enough to go for it like he did. I really was proud, and quite surprised, that he had the moxie to take a risk.
I stayed up until near midnight to look for the swim team postings and sure enough Alex didn’t make the team. Neither did several of his other friends, who probably should have, which softened the blow.
Alex was a little teary when I told him in the morning, but didn’t loose it and instead said, “That’s fine. I didn’t expect to. I stopped. You weren’t supposed to stop. That’s only fair. Is there another opportunity for me to try out?” I told him there was and he said, “I’d like to take stroke lessons between now and then and give it another shot. If I don’t make it then, I can try next year too, right?”
For a brief moment, early in the morning, I saw a glimpse of who Alex might eventually grow up to be. Which got me through the rest of the day because…
As soon as Alex was off the bus that afternoon he was stomping around upstairs yelling at Meredith over her use of his colored pencils during the day. He also took off down the path on his bike when I specifically asked him to come inside; leaving me standing in our yard yelling like the neighborhood crazy who has lost control of her children.
We’re not out of the woods yet, but I can see the sun.
I try to remember that when he slams his door and rattles the kitchen chandelier.
Slowly, I’m starting to see an emergence of maturity.
Alex has yet to find his niche in team sports and Brandon and I think it’s really important he find one he enjoys.
Tennis and golf are great, but don’t really provide the experience of being on a team. Until you’re in high school and your 82 on nine holes kills the team score and causes your coach to withhold dinner on the long trip home.
One of the school newsletters mentioned try outs would be held for the Noblesville Swim Club. Anyone six years old and older was eligible. I held my breath and asked Alex if he had any interest. He has shunned summer swim teams because he is an activity commitment phobe like his mother. He didn’t want to be chained to a starting block each and every morning and I didn’t blame him. So, when he responded with an enthusiastic, “Yes!” I was slightly stunned.
After coming to terms with the fact we’d be surrendering three evenings a week for practice and a good chunk of our weekends, we went for it. Alex attended two evenings of practice and they seemed to go quite well. He had never done a proper backstroke and at first try looked something akin to a windmill. After a little coaching from Annie’s husband, Ryan, Alex “got it,” and did really well. Alex had never mastered side breathing during freestyle, but that came along nicely too.
Try outs were on Thursday and Alex was pumped. I was a nervous wreck. Turns out, I had good reason to be. During the freestyle, Alex stopped five or six times! I tried to mentally will him to keep going, but it didn’t work. The after report was that his goggles were leaking. I’m not sure I buy it since the phenomenon never occurred during practice. His backstroke however, was fantastic!
When he got out of the pool, I told him how proud of him I was for trying something, but explained to him that making it across the pool using proper strokes without stopping was a requisite. I braced myself for a meltdown, but instead he said, “Yeah, I know. I probably won’t make it, but it was fun and I learned a lot about how to do the strokes.
On the drive home he asked me if I ever didn’t make cheerleading when I tried out. I told him no, but that I always wanted to try out for swim team but wasn’t confident enough to go for it like he did. I really was proud, and quite surprised, that he had the moxie to take a risk.
I stayed up until near midnight to look for the swim team postings and sure enough Alex didn’t make the team. Neither did several of his other friends, who probably should have, which softened the blow.
Alex was a little teary when I told him in the morning, but didn’t loose it and instead said, “That’s fine. I didn’t expect to. I stopped. You weren’t supposed to stop. That’s only fair. Is there another opportunity for me to try out?” I told him there was and he said, “I’d like to take stroke lessons between now and then and give it another shot. If I don’t make it then, I can try next year too, right?”
For a brief moment, early in the morning, I saw a glimpse of who Alex might eventually grow up to be. Which got me through the rest of the day because…
As soon as Alex was off the bus that afternoon he was stomping around upstairs yelling at Meredith over her use of his colored pencils during the day. He also took off down the path on his bike when I specifically asked him to come inside; leaving me standing in our yard yelling like the neighborhood crazy who has lost control of her children.
We’re not out of the woods yet, but I can see the sun.
1 comment:
Hey tell Alex, I didn't make cheerleading my 7th grade year. I learned what I needed to do and tried out 8th grade and made it! I was very upset in not making it in 7th, but I learned that if you work hard for something it can be obtained!
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