Life in the Sports Lane

I love ironic twists in life. The whole sports thing is just such a twist in our lives.

Neither my husband or I grew up being all that great at sports. We both, as fate would have it, grew up in families who revelled in sports and in our siblings who were so good at them. Not that we're bitter or anything. Not at all. Really. We've worked past it.

We were both blessed with the "curse of creativity" as I sometimes call it. I don't consider it an actual curse. It's just that, in yet another twist of irony, all those sports talented people who were so esteemed in our youth don't get nearly as much attention now that it seems everyone we've ever known, and people we've yet to meet, will need us at some point to; paint a banner, come up with a logo, create a mural, decorate a wedding, design invitations, put on a Chrsitmas musical, or maybe craft an 8ft X 12ft faux stained glass from $6.00 worth of tissue paper. And the list goes on and on....literally. We're a veritable dream team of creativity and talent (ha..ha...ha). But even dream teams need sleep.

The real twist comes when you get to the part where we have these boys. Boys who each and every one are just naturally good at, and inclined to participate in....SPORTS. We both just gaze in amazement at their talents and abilities. I'm not talking full ride scholarship sort of good.(at least I don't think so)...but good enough to make All-Star teams and take coveted spots away from parents (and kids) who actually LIVE for that sort of thing.

Don't get me wrong. We love watching them play. They have a blast and love every minute of it. The thrill of victory, agony of defeat thing is good for them. My husband finds particular glee and even a sort of vengance in the fact that his offspring are so good at something that was a source of pain to him growing up. He "gets into it" a bit more than I do. :)

I've learned (pretty much) the rules of most of the games. My husband loves to tell about the very first 7th grade football game our oldest played in....as quarterback, no less....and at that first play I jumped up and was yelling, "Hey, that boy was pulling on his shirt, is that allowed??? Isn't that a foul or something???" I had no idea they could grab them like that! It still upsets me. Oh well.

And now we're gearing up for another season of Saturdays spent yelling and screaming. But there's hope...

Our 9th grader is in choir and doing quite well and the 6th grader is taking band for the first time (trombone!). The youngest is destined to be an artist, I just know it. We never did get the oldest one bought into any area of fine arts....but there's hope yet because his favorite class right now at Pepperdine is graphic arts.

We shall see. My secret wish is that when they all grow up and get married they have nothing but daughters and spend all their Saturdays at dance recitals and birthday tea parties.

grace