a little case of the "mommies"

My senior year of high school found me in a navy blue and orange uniform doing a lot of sitting, and of coarse looking cool during warm ups and pretending I was listening to coach's ever important game plan....but I would say my main job was sitting. It was my fourth year of playing basketball in high school and in a school with 3200 plus kids I have to say I was just happy that my little bottom had a seat. I played center or forward and the summer before my senior year a girl moved into our school district who later went on to play basketball at Princeton and when I looked around the gym at summer camp I realized that I happened to be the shortest one who wasn't a guard (and let's be honest, me dribbling the ball down the floor....probably not)! So, I knew it was coming. I actually was happy just being part of it all. It got frustrating at times, but one of my proudest accomplishments of the high school years. All the sitting on the bench left me with some time to burn so I did a lot of people watching and I happened to be stareing directly at the crowd, (ie at girls basketball games, their parents). I knew it before, but these "parents" in the cheering section, are their own breed. If you really watch they each have their own distinct way of dealing with their kids playing sports. Some sat and pouted, some stood up and screamed, some charged down the bleachers and about form tackled the refs. Completely normal people, going absolutely nuts while watching high school basketball. It was completely entertaining to be honest, and while I never really considered the reason for the rage, I just promised myself I would never let myself get to this point.

Fast forward about 8 years. That whole back story is really just to tell you that I may have a slight problem not being at least a little "mommy crazy". I have to believe it is instinctual, or that is what I will tell myself. Yesterday I took Griffin to a playground and of coarse he raced right in. For a second I lost sight of him as he hiked up to the "tree house" at the top of the equipment and went down the covered slide. When he popped out at the bottom of the slide he immediately saw a group of much bigger (than him) kids running around after each other playing tag. He joined right in. All the sudden the boys turned around and basically ran him right over. He crashed down into the ground and instantly I popped up and ran to him. By the time I got there he was up and running by me to join back in the game (unbeknown to him that he really wasn't invited). I sat back down and pulled myself together, no biggie, this is how he learns. I said that when it happened a second time, but by the third I had had enough. I was contemplating sticking my foot out and tripping the little delinquents when they ran by the next time, or standing up and challenging the parents of these hooligans to a little game of tag myself. Then I looked over at Griffin, whose very honor I was trying to defend and he was back up running and laughing. All the worry for nothing, I guess my crazy mom gene kicked in....oh no! We wrapped up play time and as we walked back to the car I laughed at myself. I am in for a long haul.

I promise that I won't....or will try not to be the crazy mom at the kids games but I understand the reason for all the nuttiness now, love. Luckily, I also have Ryan, who in a shocking turn of events has more self control and calmness than I when things get wild. He will be there to hold my hand and sit me back down. Good luck Griffin, remember it's because I love you. Oh, and thanks mom for all the things you did because you love me too, I get it now.

(not that she ever screamed at my games:)!)

**no children were hurt in the making of this blog post!