It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane…
Posted On July 14, 2008
By the end of the week, I MAY be wearing a SuperMom cape.
Just so ya know.
Today was the beginning of a hectic week for me as I attempt to juggle it all. Momhood. Work. Church. This morning, I began by playing the role of caddy. Which in my case meant just carrying around Boy #1’s bag that must’ve weighed 40 pounds in 90-degree heat because I am not really what you’d call “qualified” to give out golf advice. In fact, Boy #1 said to me, “Do you want me to give you advice about what advice you should give me?” First I laughed. Then I said, “Yes.”
So I walked 9 holes watching my eldest play in his first golf tournament of the season. Which, by the way, is NOT easy for me to do. I’ve got what you’d call “issues” when it comes to the pressure of competition, and when it involves one of my kids, it’s way worse. But of course I can’t let it show because I don’t want my kids to feel the same way I do! So I just smile and keep recycling the only advice I know. “Keep your head down! Follow through all the way to the hole! Just relax and have fun!”
And I do stifle the urge to yell “You’re the man!” after he hits his drive. I’m sure he appreciates that.
After 2 1/2 hours of golf that included a 245-yard drive, two “10”s, one “3” for par, at least 6 ball/tree collisions, and a run-in with the gentlest looking bird that my son was sure was waiting to peck him as soon as he reached for his ball, Boy #1 ended up with a 61. Hey, I’m thrilled if I get a 61 on 9 holes, but apparently if you’re 10 and a better golfer than your mom, this isn’t something to write home about. In fact, it will get you last place in your age group. Last. Granted, there were only 6 other boys, but still…Last. Don’t you hate it when your kid tries so hard and wants it so badly and then ends up with …last? Don’t get me wrong, it is soooo good for him to experience disappointment and defeat; practice good sportsmanship; and realize that there are things to be learned, shots to be practiced, and fun to be had along the way, no matter how you finish. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling bad for my oldest baby boy. I know last doesn’t feel good. I was very proud of the way he handled it, though. After his initial reaction of saying “I suck!” he was able to deliver genuine congratulations to the other boys and reflect on what good practice this was for Thursday.
Oh yeah, Thursday. When he plays in the Iowa Games tournament. And I’ll be schlepping around his clubs for 9 more holes…But there’s no one I’d rather be handing clubs to. Not even Tiger.
Along with my job as a caddy and my job-that-pays-me-to work as an editor, I am also volunteering with Vacation Bible School this week. Monday through Thursday, 6:00 to 8:30 p.m. Five 3- and 4-year-olds and me. Plus one more girl who I inherited after she wouldn’t stop crying for her leader.
I love preschoolers, I really do. I teach Sunday School to 3- and 4-year-olds and love their honesty, innocence, and wide-eyed view of life. But 2 1/2 hours with 3-year-olds who are most likely up past their bedtime got to be a little bit much tonight. At one point there were six of us in the bathroom together, both boys and girls, and I was going from stall to stall pulling up pants and wiping bottoms all the while shouting, “No one leave the bathroom until we’re all done!”
And yet, somehow, the kids managed to learn about Jesus. And I managed to learn a bit from the kids as well! “Jesus lives in a cage! God lives in a cage too, but he can get out.”
God bless 3-year-olds!
Well, now that I’ve stayed up past midnight trying to enlighten and entertain the masses, it’s time to go to bed so I can get up in the morning and fact yet another long day. Pick up Jake, the world’s best baby-sitter. Bring Jake back to our house. Go to work all day. Come home. Snarf down some food. Go to VBS. Come home. Put kids in bed. Work on my blog. Stay up way too late. Fall into bed.
Wednesday, I get to squeeze in our Moms & Tots Tumbling class with Boy #3 from 5:00 to 5:30 after work and before VBS at 6:00. And Thursday, I will be taking the day off for the Iowa Games. (Tell me the truth—is it wrong for me to pray that my kid not get last place again? It is? Oh, okay. I was just kidding then.)
And then Friday I’ll work and—finally—the weekend. Where I can kick back and relax with nothing to do. Except for that church meeting on Saturday morning… and preparing to teach Sunday School…and cleaning my house…and catching up on laundry…
Oh well. I can rest when I’m dead, right? Right?!