Being the semi-ok-ish mom that I am, I’ve signed my little guys up for basketball with our local recreation department. You know, so that the little people can run off some of that energy that the good Lord so graciously blesses them with daily. We’ve done rec league sports before and I don’t have the most athletic offspring of my parent’s gene pool, but the older two have something that they’re good at. I’m lying, my middle baby boy is not as savvy when it comes to sports as my oldest son is. This is fine to me because he does very well academically, but he thinks that he’s Steph Curry.
When I asked them both if they wanted to play basketball this summer, my middle baby was the first to say that he did because he couldn’t wait to score a lot of points like Steph Curry. I held back my laughter as best as I could because I didn’t want to discourage him from trying something new. Immediately, from the first practice that this was going to a very entertaining season for me. This middle kid though, he was excited about his first game.
He got up early, showered, ate breakfast, and got his Steph Curry sneakers on, ready to bring it. I have a very supportive family so the boys had lot pettiness in their cheering section. Most of all, they came to see how my middle child was going to do. Truth be told, I really excited for him because he doesn’t really understand the basics and he would probably be the kid that would shoot the ball in the other team’s basket. He was happy sitting on the bench and waiting his turn to go in while his mama was praying he wouldn’t make a mistake.
Then, during one of the timeouts. I noticed him dancing and really enjoying the moment. I thought, “why can’t I just do that?” Here I was freaking out about my little Steph-less Curry and he didn’t have a care in the work other than just playing on the team. I was able to relax and enjoy the game with my family and the boy’s team won 12-4. My middle kid claimed that he made all twelve of those points in his reenactment to my sister later on. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it.
How many of you parents end up missing out on some moments that your children have all because you’re taking things way too serious?