sometimes you're the nail

When last wrestling season resulted in 39 wins out of 42 matches, Bryan and I knew we needed to come up with a different game plan for this year.  With every activity our kids participate in, our hope is for them to experience some success, growth, and fun.  Sure, every 8 or 9 year old loves coming out on top every time, but is he growing?  So, this season we set out to get him in some more challenging tournaments.

There are a few tournament systems.  There are the ones that our club does that lead to a state-level competition in April (NYWA).  Wrestlers qualify by competing and placing at the district and then regional level.  Reggie's first year, his season ended at the regional level.  Last year, he finished 3rd for his 1-2 grade weight class at the state level.  Another system is called USA.  Our club doesn't participate in this system, but we often cross paths with wrestlers who do.  

We decided to take Reggie to a few tournaments that are open to anyone but attract the more "elite" wrestling crowd and see what would happen.  Ever seen the show "Toddlers and Tiaras"?  These tournaments are what I would imagine to be the equivalent in wrestling.  Little boys (and some girls) strut around with their chests puffed out and titles branded on their clothing and equipment.  I imagine these kids eat, sleep, and wrestle year around (because it says so on their t-shirts!) But not everyone.  There are also kids like Reggie who love competition and are there to learn.

So, what happened?  Reggie lost.  The top 6 wrestlers in a given grade level/weight class place, and Reggie didn't place at any of the 3 tournaments.

After the first tournament, Bryan had these words of wisdom for his son: "Sometimes you're the hammer, sometimes you're the nail."

Until this season, the bulk of Reggie's experience has been being the hammer.  But we intentionally put him in situations where he would be the nail this year.  Why?  Because we believe in order to be a great wrestler, he has to experience some losses.  He has to learn how to be the underdog and come from behind.  He has to experience doing his very hardest wrestling with the result that he managed to not get pinned - and be proud of what he accomplished.

As adults, we know that our children grow and become better people through adversity.  But as parents, it is so hard to watch our kids struggle!  My mother-in-law captured this moment of me sitting with my baby boy after his fourth straight loss in 24 hours.  Later, Reggie asked me why I was stressed (I guess I didn't hide it very well).  I told him that when he had his own kids he would understand.  He would understand that your kids are your very heart beating outside your body.  And that when they experience pain, you experience that pain, too.  My mother-in-law quickly chimed in to remind me - when your kids experience victory, you experience it, too.  We get to experience all of it alongside our children.

The "elite" tournaments are behind us for this year.  In a few weeks, Reggie will start to wrestle through the district, regional, and (possibly) state level of the NYWA tournaments with his club.  We've learned that it is typical for kids to perform well every other year based on their grade level (1st and 2nd compete together, 3rd and 4th compete together, etc.) so 3rd grade is naturally a more difficult year.  Stay tuned!

spotlight on Brett

 Last day of 3rd grade!

 Stop growing!

 We bowl almost every week through the kids bowl free program.  Tuesday is $1.50 tacos!

This spring Brett expressed an interest in playing soccer.  I found a soccer clinic in the area and he had fun, but he wanted to play games. I was nervous about signing him up.  Most kids who play soccer have been playing since they were four. I was afraid he would not be able to process the game fast enough and it would be a frustrating experience for him.  I expressed our dilemma at our districts' special education advisory council meeting. Little did I know the coach of the TopSoccer team was sitting in the meeting!  I had never heard of TopSoccer (this is an example of a bigger problem that needs to be addressed).  TopSoccer is a soccer program specifically for youth with disabilities.  "Youth with disabilities" is a very broad stroke.  We didn't know if it would be a good fit for Brett.

We decided to give it a try.  We were a little late with the registration but, encouraged by the coach, we just showed up at the first game.  They put Brett in right away, and he didn't even know which direction to kick the ball.  (This is the point where I would typically feel the other parents' judgements weighing me down, but there was no judgement here - only support.)  Brett sorted it out and scored his first goal.  Sitting on the sidelines, masked by my sunglasses, I cried.  I cried because I was proud.  And I cried because Brett was in a place where he belonged. And I cried because this was that place.

TopSoccer has been a great new experience this summer and I suspect it is around to stay.  Brett is having a lot of fun!

 The best things in life are...large boxes.

Brett still loves basketball!

 Brett can fall asleep anywhere.

 We also love the kids skate free program. Aren't they cute?

Last week Brett woke me up in the middle of the night complaining of a stomach ache.  I have never been a very good nighttime parent.  In my half-awake state, I mumbled to try using the bathroom and went back to sleep.  The next morning, I was feeling pretty badly that I hadn't gotten up with him.  I asked him how he was feeling and told him I was sorry I didn't get up.  He said, "That's okay, God helped me."  Later, he told me he prayed and his stomach felt better.  At first, this made me feel worse!  But then I was reminded of Hebrews 13:5 - "I will never leave you nor forsake you."  How good to know that God is there for you even when Mom is too tired!

Magical Christmas

Today, we made our annual visit to Macy's Santaland.  While we were there, we came across a fountain and the kids wanted to make a wish.  I had four pennies, so I did too, in the spirit of Christmas.  I wished that my kids would have a magical Christmas.  I know our Christmases of belief in Santa will soon come to an end.  But today's events reminded me that Christmas doesn't need Santa to be magical. Here's the story:

The kids have been wanting to ride the train from St. Paul to Minneapolis.  We rarely go to Minneapolis, and in reality it's a pretty big logistical nightmare to get anywhere using public transportation from our home.  But we had the whole day open, so this was a good opportunity.

Let me just insert here that I've taken the buses but never the train on my own and I haven't taken more than one kid with me, so I was a little nervous about corralling them while making sure I didn't get on the wrong bus or on the train going to wrong direction.  The whole idea of Reggie being around train tracks in general is pretty anxiety-producing.  And, this kind of stuff doesn't usually get to me, but there has been a lot of racial unrest in Minneapolis the last few weeks, and the recent acts of terror also crossed my mind.  But I refuse to allow these things to take us captive, so I studied the routes the night before, and had a plan A, B, and C.

We had to drive to a transit station.  From there, we took a bus, and then we finally got on the train.  Being a Friday, my kids were the only kids on the train, and they were not exactly sitting still and being quiet.  Out of the blue, a young man walked back to me and asked, "Are you these three kids' guardian?" and then asked if he could show them a magic trick.  He showed them an empty box, and then he made three half-dollars appear, and gave one to each kid, then returned to his seat.

We arrived at Macy's without mishap, had lunch, went through the display, and wrote the ever-important letters to Santa.  For the kids, this is the critical part of the day, and they have put much thought into what they will say.

The day is not complete without a stop at Mrs. Claus' Bakery (I wonder how many times a day they clean that glass.)

 



We had some time to kill, so we meandered back to the train.  I have to be honest.  I barely noticed the homeless lady sitting on a bench holding a sign, and would have probably walked passed.  We had walked by others already.  But I had a little one tugging at my coat.  "Mom, what does that sign say?"  I read the sign aloud and saw a box of pennies by her feet.  We stopped and I reached into my backpack for my wallet.  "Why are you giving her money, Mom?"  I fumbled for the right words, knowing she had heard. "Because she needs help." She managed a smile.  I resisted the urge to drop the dollar in the penny box and handed it to her and told her Merry Christmas.  She thanked us and we continued walking.  I was already considering the best way to approach the busy intersection ahead when Reggie slipped from my grasp and ran back.  I turned to yell at him just in time to see him drop his half dollar into the lady's penny box.  The lady and I exchanged a smile as he ran back to me.

Back on the train, heading the right direction, I reflected on the Christmas magic we had experienced.  A stranger reached out to my kids in kindness and gave them a gift.  My kids woke me up to my surroundings and an opportunity to be kind to a stranger.  And Reggie learned it truly is better to give than to receive. 

assumptions

I think up until around six years old, we basically think everyone else is like us.  They think like us, have the same beliefs and values, opportunities, interests, families, like the same things, etc.  And then we start to notice differences.  Guess what?  Not everybody loves the Packers like we do.  Sometimes there is something in our lunchbox that we love and other kids think is gross (like hardboiled eggs).  A recent shock to one of my kids this fall was that not every six-year-old goes trick-or-treating.  Some kids have "white skin" and some kids have "black skin" and some kids have "in-between skin".  (Lately, we have been stressing with our kids that there are other ways to describe people than by the color of their skin - that skin color is one of many attributes a person has.)

A few weeks ago, Lydia made an assumption about a friend in her class.  We happened to know the family from t-ball two summers ago, but Lydia must have never noticed (see previous paragraph) the family composition.  The boy is bi-racial, and Lydia reported to me that he "was adopted because he has a white mom."  I had a serious conversation with her about how we can't assume kids are adopted, or not adopted, based on the color of their skin.

Then, another six-year-old made an assumption about Lydia.  He told her "Reggie isn't your real brother."  The assumption was that a white person and a black person cannot be siblings.  This time it was Lydia's turn to have a "serious conversation" with the boy about adoption.  And, based on the story she told me, I'm proud of her.

How often do we, as adults, make assumptions about people before we have all the information?  How often do we think people share the same views, experiences, opportunities, and values?  Or, the reverse, we think people oppose our beliefs and values based on what little we know about them?  Learning not to assume is a good life lesson for 6 year olds...and 36 year old...and 96 year olds.

This picture was taken on Unity Day, when students are encouraged to wear orange to take a stand against bullying.

the marshmallow test

Have you heard of the marshmallow study?  In the late 60's, researchers did a study to see how well 3-, 4-, and 5-year-olds can show self-control when a reward is at stake.  They presented each preschooler with a marshmallow.  If the preschooler would wait and not eat the marshmallow, he or she could have two marshmallows in 15 minutes.  In the study, the child was left alone with the marshmallow and led to believe they were not being monitored.  About 30% managed to wait out the fifteen minutes for two marshmallows.  Here's the interesting part.  Fifteen years later, the researchers went back to survey the children, now young adults, and discovered a striking correlation between the kids with the will-power and higher scores in various areas of life such as coping with problems, relationships, school, and planning ahead.

Well, I have three 3-,4- and 5-year-olds, and I happened to have exactly six marshmallows in the house, so I decided to give it an unscientific try.  The kids were all waiting for their lunch at the counter and I put a marshmallow in front of each one, explaining they could eat that marshmallow now while they waited for lunch, or they could have two marshmallows after lunch.  Lydia did not hesitate.  "I'm waiting till after lunch," she said with dead certainty.  Brett, already having the marshmallow in hand, paused and put it down, "Me, too."  Reggie wavered, "I want it now...no...I want two."  For that moment, I was proud of my good parenting and happy to know all three of my children were going to be successful in life!  I instinctively set the marshmallows aside and went to work at getting lunch ready.  I sliced up a pear.  The kids asked if they could eat it.  "One slice each, the rest I want you to have with your lunch," leaving the pear slices in front of them.  I turned my attention to the quesadillas on the stove.  When I went back to the counter, the pears were evenly distributed on the kids' plates.

Except Reggie's.  His were gone.

What can we learn from this experiment?

1.  Peer influence is powerful even in preschool.
2.  I don't really trust my kids.
3.  Leave the fruits and veggies on the counter; keep the candy dish hidden.
4.  Delayed gratification is a life-long lesson.

"not today"

A few weeks ago, in a moment of desperation being a good counselor-mom, I set up star charts for the kids.  Each child has a behavior-specific goal, and when he or she earns a certain number of stars, they receive a reward to recognize effort in changing an undesirable behavior.

One of my children's goal is to not refuse to comply when he/she is told to do something.  We were in a very public place when the child was...not complying.

"[Child's Name], remember your goal.  Don't you want to earn a star?", I asked *calmly*, aware of my audience.

The child stopped, thought, and then responded.

"Not today."  And continued to not comply.

The child's desire to disobey not only outweighed a desire to please me, but also the incentive I had set up.  It completely frustrated me.  I was brainstorming ways I could get the child to change the behavior when I was reminded that my child has a free will, and it is a gift from God.  My child is not a remote-control car, that I can steer this way or that, accelerate or stop.  I can guide my child by setting an example, teaching - and rewards and consequences.  But ultimately my child makes his/her own choices.

How often is my response to God, "Not today"?

Spend time with Me.

"Not today."

Love your enemies.

"Not today."

Give generously.

"Not today."

Forgive.

"Not today."

Value without judgement.

"Not today."

Humble yourself.

"Not today."

Express thanksgiving.

"Not today."

Remember the least of these.

"Not today."

Trust Me.

"Not today."

And then I was reminded of my own words often used on my children - "Obeying is doing it right away, all the way...with a smile." : )