Prepare to be amazed, people, for I have figured out the secret to life! Or at least, the secret to predetermining the amount of time and money you’ll be investing when you child comes home and announces she wants to join the team.
I’ve had a great deal of time to think about this, and unfortunately, wasted too many hours wallowing in disappointment and bitterness. But my losses will be your gain so that you will never again wander blindly into an online sign-up without fully understanding to what hell you are committing.
See, the problem lies in the type of activity about which your precious little angel dreams. If he decides on soccer, basketball or football, you’re golden. These sports have seasons – easy to plan for and easy to get out of. Even when you land in the crazy world of club travel, at least you’ll know ahead of time that a game lasts two hours and that the side with the most points wins.
They key word here folks is game. A volleyball game, a lacrosse game. Games are good. Games mean scores and time limits and referees. We like games. But have your ever heard of a dance game? Or a marching band game? No. And therein lies the key to eternal maternal happiness.
Because when you find yourself saying things like “Maddie has a dance competition this weekend” or “Andrew is going to a Tai Kwon Do tournament,” all bets are off. You’ll never understand why a stupid judge picked the barely-clothed tapper over your daughter after having spent forty-eight hours in the bowels of a local high school for seven total minutes of your child on stage. Or why Johnny won the sparring event even though your son clearly went Korean-medieval on the kid.
If you can’t insert the word game behind the competitive portion of your offspring’s activity, you’re doomed. Prepare to show them the money, leave most events feeling confused and frustrated, and waste whole weekends doing show hair or playing Angry Birds. Remember, “game” is good.
And, you’re welcome. Peace out.