Braving Boys

Catch and Release

There’s not a whole lot this boy loves. Well, he does have a fondness for candy, his iPod Touch, lounging on his bed watching TV, and most anything that costs us money and counts as a toy or a treat. But out of all the life-enriching activities endorsed by us, the parents, there’s really only one biggie that makes the cut — fishing. (Well, there is gardening, too, but it comes in a distant second.)

Joey is good at lots of things, like school, piano, drama, football, and basketball, but none of these register as favorites in any way, shape, or form. Sure, he likes to tackle me in the aisles of Walmart just for fun, toss the ball around with his dad in random fields, and crush his little brother in backyard hoops. Put him on a team, though, or anything formal and organized, and while he’ll play along, he won’t be all that interested. A boat, now, or a dock — transport him to one or the other, and a happy boy, you will see. It’s beautiful, really, how our boy, who first started challenging us the day he was born, can become so still, peaceful, and patient. He has no problem rising in the wee and dark hours of the morning, trekking all over the state of Florida, working tirelessly for a good catch and release or a cast net full of shrimp, and while he does have a bit of an issue with cleaning the boat, he does it, because he knows it’s part of the deal.

I don’t know how it happened — how he came to pick fish over footballs — but ask him to head out to the water, and he’s there, content for the long haul, and plotting out the next big trip. Will his love affair continue? I’m not sure. But for now, we’re embracing this hobby that makes our boy happier than anything else in this big world. (Oh, and for good measure, we’re also forcing him to stick with piano, because, have you ever known an adult who gave up on lessons as a kid who doesn’t now regret the decision? Well, we haven’t, and if you have, please don’t tell Joey or Danny.)

I mean nothing remotely sexist by saying I’d be doing hair and nails if I was a momma of girls. Of course, there are female kids out there shooting hoops, tossing footballs, digging in the dirt, and catching bugs. I’m just saying that had I been given kids with two X chromosomes, I would have created an environment of girly-ness. There would have been Barbies, dollhouses, hair bows, and plenty of pedicure time. XY is what I got, though, and honestly, I’m really happy about that, because there are girl issues I am thrilled I get to avoid. Plus, I kinda like basketball. Well, as long as my hair stays pretty, and my toenail polish doesn’t chip.

Joey, No. 91

He was choked up. I saw him fight back the tears. But when we walked away from his very last tackle football game of the season on Saturday night, Joey told us, like he’s done a thousand times, that he doesn’t really like the sport at all, that he will likely never play again.

Well, maybe if he can play defense only, he’ll consider it, but mostly, he’s done with the game.

That’s fine. I don’t care if Joey plays again or not. What I care about is what he got out of the past three months.

Joey got an education in the fundamentals of football and a lesson in commitment — there were days when he wanted so badly to quit, but he toughed it out, finished, and earned a Pop Warner medal and trophy.

Joey got discipline, criticism, and praise. He got first place almost every time he ran laps with his 30 teammates, and he got to hardly ever come out of the game. He got knocked down, he got $5 from Dad for every game tackle, and he got bumps and bruises. He got the nickname “Big Bird,” he got skilled at football drills, and he got accustomed to playing in sweltering heat, and then, in the finger-numbing cold.

Joey got good at football, he got a passion for watching pro games on TV, throwing the ball in the yard with anyone he could recruit, and trying to tackle me in the grass, the living room, even the aisles of Walmart. He got to experience the thrill of team comraderie, he got to yell and scream in huddles, he got to be team captain.

Joey got a game jersey and wore it to school every Friday, he got dressed up for Halloween as a football player, and then, one week after scoring a bag full of trick-or-treat sweets, he got tears in his eyes when football came to an end.

I saw them — the tears.

And that’s how I know that somewhere deep inside his big body, Joey realizes football was not so bad.

I suspect he knows it was actually pretty fun at times.

He just won’t admit it.

That’s OK.

Because I know.

Donaldson / #91

It turns out that Joey doesn’t much love football. He doesn’t hate it, but it’s become pretty clear that if he had his choice, he’d be on a boat — with his dad, a fishing pole, and a cast net. He likes fishing so much that standing for a few hours at the kitchen sink cleaning shrimp qualifies as fun when compared to two-hour practices. It’s actually the practice he doesn’t prefer. Games are better, and we’ve even spotted the guy pretty pumped up after each of his team’s three wins.

The coaches warned us at the beginning of the season that tackle football could very well be the toughest thing our kids have ever endured in their nine years of life. The grueling conditioning, old-school coaching, hot temps, hard hits, and colossal time commitment would build our boys into men, they declared, and sure enough, it’s tough stuff out there on the field.

Ready to block!

It’s not the physical demands that bother Joey, though, and I watched him just last week come from behind 30 teammates while running, pushing himself to first place on the first lap, and second on the second lap.

He’s not lazy. He’s not slacking.

He’s just. not. that. into. it.

Still, he’s going to finish, and I happen to think that’s what makes him most like a man. He’s not complaining (anymore), and he’s fulfilling his commitment — three practices per week, one game per week, and a healthy diet that keeps the big boy a bit below max weight so he can play in each game. Yep, tough stuff.

Joey’s not sure he will ever be a superstar in the world of football. But maybe he will. It’s still early in the season, and he’s only 9, after all. Plenty of time on both accounts for a change of heart. For now, however, I’m just plain proud every time I watch my kid suit up and do his thing. I’m not sure I could do it as well.

Four words for you, Joey.

Boy.
You.
Are.
Amazing.

Don’t ever forget it.

Photo: AMagill, Flickr

My boys are fascinated with money. Just yesterday, one of them asked me if lawyers make a lot, they both love to dream about what they’ll do when we win the lottery, and I’m pretty sure 9-year-old Joey is purposely pulling out teeth to pad his bank account. So when the two of them realized that cash prizes go to the folks who finish first in the 1/2 marathon I’ll be running on February 14, they issued me an assignment: “Mom, you’ve got to win!”

“I just want to finish, not win,” I responded.

“Please, please, please, try to win,” Joey and Danny chanted in tandem.

Here’s the deal: If I finish first in my female age group (35-39), I’ll score $250. Second place gets $150, and third place gets $100. Do I think I can do it? In a word: No. My 10-minute mile just isn’t that competitive, I don’t think. Will I tell my guys this? Nope. I plan to arm them with the fact that I’ll try my very best, that I’ll run like I want to win. I’m sure they’ll see visions of wealth when I tell them this, but what I hope registers in their little-boy brains is that dedication and some good hard work are what really matters.

Money, yea, that would be nice, too.

Crazy boys, with crazy cousins

Two experts on the TODAY Show recently shared that most parents, when surveyed, say what they want most out of life is to raise healthy kids. And when 6,400 moms and dads were interviewed in one study, the following six practices emerged as key for raising better kids. Embrace each one, and your own offspring will be better behaved and less likely to engage in risky behaviors.

1. Have dinner with your kids at least five times per week. This is what matters most, not your work, not the stuff you’re buying, but actually sitting down and paying attention to your children. It’s not the food that matters, it’s the connection and strength of the family that comes from dining as a group. If you just can’t make it happen because you’re working two jobs to make ends meet, gather at an off time and have a snack together.
2. Take your kids to church or synagogue weekly. This will teach them that there’s something bigger out there, and they’ll learn a solid sense of respect.
3. Check your kids’ homework nightly. Intellectual development is just as import as physical development. The more you monitor, the better.
4. Demand the truth, and get it. Earn trust by becoming a hands-on and involved parent.
5. Take kids on vacation for at least a week at at time once per year. Leave your Blackberry at home.
6. Get your kids involved in team sports, but be careful. Research shows that some sports may increase incidences of drinking, smoking and violent behavior.

Hey, batter!

We’re not opposed to bribing boys for certain behaviors, although we prefer to call it “motivating” boys or “inspiring” boys, because, well,  it just sounds better. We did it recently with grades. We told Joey and Danny we’d pay them for each A (Joey) and each E (Danny), and surprise — Joey brought home straight As on his first 9-week report card, and Danny delivered mostly Es.

Some say kids should not be financially rewarded for doing well in school, they should shine scholastically because it’s expected. I say showing up is expected. Excelling is icing on the cake. And, hey, we’re all for helping our boys pile on the icing.

My mom bribed motivated Joey this weekend, and I must say it worked wonders. You see, my poor guy has been in a batting slump. Once known for cracking the ball with ease, the kid had gone several baseball games without  making any hint of contact. He became so discouraged, he was pretty sure he’d never choose to play ball again. And then something generous happened: His Nana offered him $10 for each hit during tournament play. Score. The kid hit, and hit, and hit, and hit — that’s four hits, which means Joey is now $40 richer. I’m pretty sure he might play on a team again. I’m definitely sure his confidence is restored, and there’s nothing better than that at the end of a season.

Is Joey only getting good grades and hitting baseballs because of the cash that awaits him? Maybe. Is that a problem? Nope. He still makes his bed voluntarily. He cleans up after himself free of charge and he drags in the trash can every Tuesday morning simply because it’s his job — not because there’s a fee attached. For some tasks, however, we will inspire our kids with a little moolah. The way I see it, it’s partly (perhaps mostly) why we all perform well in our jobs — because we want the prize that comes in the form of a pumped-up paycheck.

And then it’s entirely possible the money didn’t inspire — maybe Joey rocked the start of third grade because he’s just that smart. And maybe his coaches and dad and uncle, who spent hours fine-tuning his swing and stance, are to credit for the comeback. Perhaps it’s a combination of everything — smarts, good coaches and funds. And if that’s the case, I couldn’t be happier.

Joey, catching

Joey got a home run tonight, which we think is pretty awesome, of course. He also played catcher for the very first time — we’re excited about that, too. “How was it?” we asked him just after the winning game. “It hurt,” he declared — something about getting hit in the foot, and the knee, and the face, and well, his tooth was loose so that was a little distracting. But hey, there’s still the home run, plus he’s a few bucks richer after getting paid for the tooth that was out of his mouth by game’s end. So all in all, the boy scored big tonight.

Boys, post-run / University of Florida Homecoming 2009

Joey ran two miles today in less than 18 minutes. He beat me — I crossed the finish line just after 18. Danny hung with his dad, and the two of them did a walk/run for the University of Florida two-mile Gator Gallop today. Then we all gathered, huffing and puffing and with our sweaty faces, and we decided our physical challenge was a lot of fun. It’s going to be a tradition, and in 2010, we’ll be back for more.

Sometimes I think Joey and Danny like sports because of the gear they get to collect. I mean, a boy’s got to have the right shoes for basketball, right? And since my guys are all signed up and slated to begin practice on November 30, we doled out a small fortune on the coolest high-tops today. The boys love their new kicks, and Danny is pretty sure his sneakers are producing a better jump already.

Momma feet in little-boy shoes

And I’m pretty sure Danny’s big brother is going to outgrow me any day now. These new shoes (I sprung for everyday footwear, too) — modeled by me — show just how similar we are in size. And that just plain scares me, because Joey is 8, and I’m the mom, and I want to be the one with bigger feet at least until, like, the third grade is over.