We all know being a parent is not an easy job. Parenting doesn't come with a manual or instructions. However, I try to read everyone's advice on the subject, you just never know what you will learn. For us, long gone are the night feedings, the diapers, the sterilizing of bottles. Nonetheless, we now find ourselves drifting into uncharted territories of adolescence.
I've so heard many horror stories of the hormone ages. Parents reminding me to enjoy my babies as one day they'd grow-up to be teenagers! Somehow, I always looked forward to these days. After all, being a mom of three boys is easy. When my three year old throws a tantrum, I walk away confident that I know he'll be fine and over it. I've been through this stage twice already. I've mostly seen it all. When my seven year old gets rude, I have the retort ready. Sorry buddy been down that road and back again.
However, my thirteen year old is now taking me down unschooled area. I now feel like a first time parent again. Questioning all my decisions, second guessing all my words, feelings of vulnerability. Cringing on topics such as Internet awareness, sex, drugs and whatever else I need to 'bring up in discussions'.
A few weeks ago, Diodato approached me telling me that he wanted to be an avid golfer. He is a pretty good golfer, and does much better at solo sports. I had a brainwave of an idea. I registered Diodato for the CJGA (Canadian Junior Golf Association) where he could take-part in golf tournaments around our area. He loved the idea. I registered him, and then signed him up in all the tournaments in our city and surrounding area. Note to self and others who come after me, do not throw your kids out to the wolves first time out!
The first tournament was this week-end. My husband had already warned me that it was being held at a very difficult golf course. No problem, I so thought. What I didn't know, was that I had signed him up for a very elite international tournament. The tournament would be even stricter than a PGA Tour event! What was even worse was that my son wasn't even prepared for what lie ahead. Usually, when he golfs he relies on his father, or golf mates for the rules and regulations of golf if he is in doubt. Anyone, who has ever golfed on a true golf course can attest that golf has more rules, regulations than the military! The golf rules and regulations handbook is thicker than the bible itself.
Professional golfers have caddies to keep them on par for rules, regulations, yardage etc...This tournament wouldn't allow such thing. Not so bad if you are prepared, have golfed a tournament in the past, or have studied the rules ahead of time and no what you have to face. We had no idea. More importantly, Diodato had no clue. Here was my son ready to tee off and a marshall (the equivalent of a police chief) began barking orders to the kids about following the rules and regulations of golf. What was more intimidating was there were equivalent rules for the parents. No direct eye contact with your children, maintain a 30 metre distance from your child at all times and if your child needs a drink leave it behind walk away, the golfer would pick it up one the 30 metre perimeter was established. Crazy! In addition, the security was tighter than a high security prison. My hubby watched hopelessly as nerves took over and swallowed our son.
I knew something was awry when I hadn't heard any reports from my hubby all day despite my continued text messages. The fact of the matter is, he was withering watching the events unfold before him. Our son crumbled, and there was nothing my hubby or anyone else could do but watch until the round of golf was over. Finally, the phone rang and I answered awaiting the news of the round. My husband hardly could speak. The only thing he could say was that our son looked pitiful out on the course, even other spectators felt for him. I could feel his deep sadness. What happened? I too became heavyhearted. What had we done? I immediately ran to the kitchen and proceeded to make Diodato his favourite dinner, like any good mother would do. Ultimately, he would be starving by the time they arrived. I began cooking like a mad woman hoping my son would overcome this set-back.
As soon as I opened the door, I looked into my sweet child's eyes. What I saw looking back was something I'd never seen before. I just wanted to cry. He looked defeated, extremely discouraged and just plain finished! It was as though I had sent him to the front lines of a war in which there would be no chance. A soldier ambushed with no back-up or support. Every ounce of confidence or happiness had been completely sucked out. What had we done? Would he ever even golf again?
"I don't want to go back there tomorrow! I wasn't prepared. The hardest tournament of the year they said. My first! I am not going back! I was embarrassed because I was so nervous. I couldn't think, I was afraid to break a rule." Being the optimistic mother that I am, that answer was unacceptable. He had to go back, after all quitting is not an option. The lesson he would have to learn. I dug deep and began giving him the 'speech'. "Successful people all have faced adversity. They have overcome it and been better because of it. Nothing can be given to you. It can't come on a silver platter. Work for it. Go for it. Suck it up!" Nothing I could say or do would change his mind. I was frustrated. I felt his disappointment. I too was discouraged. This I felt was an enormous, crucial lesson and experience he needed to learn. I needed to think, re-group and find a way to change his mind.
Finally, after a few hours past the answer came to me. It had to come from him. He is thirteen now and old enough to make these choices on his own. He is mature enough to face the consequences of his decisions. That is how he is going to learn. If he chooses not to take my advice, coaxing or wisdom that is his choice. Something, I must honour and respect. This is how he chose to deal with the situation. I would have to accept it.
I walked into his room, hugged him and told him how proud of him I was. Finishing the round took guts. If he chose not go the next day, that would be fine by me. "Thanks, Mom. I didn't want to disappoint you. Next tournament, I'll be more prepared. I just need to practice more."
Lesson learned for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment