I'm Not Ready

I don’t think I’m ready for this. High school. Volleyball. Turning 15. Cars. Can’t we go back to grade school?

Life just keeps marching on. Next week summer vacation ends and the kids go back to school.

Joe will be in 7^th grade at St. Marks Lutheran. It will be his first year at a school without his sister to watch out for him. Of course, as a 171-pound, 12-year-old linebacker, I don’t think he needs his sister’s protection anymore. (Although I did find a note in his backpack this summer signed by several of the little girls at his school saying they were in love with him. He said the little kindergartener who gave it to him couldn’t stop giggling. I guess he is pretty much on his own with that one from now on.)

His dad bought him a weight lifting bench a few weeks ago with all the dumbbells, bars, and free weights. He’s been building up the muscles in his arms and pushing up his “reps.” He was showing me how to properly use the bar this week. He thought it was about the funniest thing ever to see his mom try to keep up with him. I pretty much learned my lesson there the next day. My shoulders may never forgive me.

Joe can’t do much weight training on his legs just yet. He’d been limping around this summer and complaining about his knees. If he would play catcher an inning or two during baseball, he would actually cry in the dugout about the pain in his knees. The doctor says he has Osgood Schaulters disease, which has to do with one of the tendons or ligaments pulling away from the tibia where it is attached. So his knees have been all inflamed and now he has to ice them every night. He also wears Kinisio tape on his knees (just like all those Olympians with the stuff slapped all over their backs, legs, or shoulders). The doctor says it happens to kids around 10-15 when they are going through a growth spurt, and may last for a couple years. I’m sure he will milk it for all its worth, asking me to go down to his bedroom to get his socks for him the next year or two.

But it doesn’t seem to affect him when he is pushing the sled at football practice. He still does a number on that thing and I’m pretty sure his football coach is pretty excited he is going to play down on the B team again. He may have a double dot on the back of his helmet and only get to play on the line for either the offense or defense, but he finally gets to play with some of the boys his own age. This will be the first year he isn’t moved up with the older boys because of his size. It’s fun to go and listen to the boys joke around with one another while they are in line for the next drill. He has a bunch of friends on his team and I’m not so afraid that he will get hurt. This year it will be some other mom who says “oh no” when her boy has to line up across the line from Joe. Watch out for those choppy feet.

Rick says every once in a while at football practice (yes, he is coaching yet again for the Assurity midget football C team) he will hear them yell at Krush from across the practice field. Generally it’s to tell him good job – way to give the quarterback three more seconds – and stuff like that. And sometimes it’s to tell him to run a little harder during the sprints. Yes, running is a lineman’s nemesis. But Rick says Joe is the only one on the practice field who doesn’t have his whole last name written on the front of his helmet. He is just “Krush,” which I find pretty appropriate for a double-dot linebacker. Rick says it takes him back to his own good ole days (although I’m pretty sure old skin-and-bones Rick was never a linebacker).

And then there is Mandy. I heard someone once say “you are only as happy as your unhappiest child.” I completely understand that statement, although I can’t say Mandy is unhappy. She always has a ready smile. I could say she is pretty anxious and stressed out, however.

Next week starts with volleyball tryouts. And volleyball tryouts start with running a timed mile. Normally, I would not be anxious about this. However she ran the mile a week ago at the end of her kickboxing class. She took half a minute off her time from earlier this summer, but she puked at the end of it. I told her she cannot puke at volleyball tryouts. We want the coach to notice her, but not for puking on her shoe.

To be honest, I just want volleyball tryouts over and done with. If she’s going to play volleyball, let’s play volleyball. If she is not going to make the team, let’s get on with life. The girl has been working her butt off all summer. She did summer training at the Magic volleyball club twice a week. She went to kickboxing four times a week at 7am in the morning during her summer “vacation.” She did individual training sessions for an hour once a week. She played on a sand volleyball team. She also played on a Southwest High School recreational soccer team two nights a week. Sometimes the games were played in the 100+ temperature. Those were the worst. She even went to the weight room two or three times a week to lift weights. (Although I don’t know if that was for the weight training or the boy watching.)

She did get a couple of special treats. (Yes, prepare for the proud mom bragging.) She got asked to play on a Greater Nebraska volleyball team with a bunch of other Southwest girls. They played at the junior varsity level. Southwest had two junior varsity teams and the team she was on won all their games only losing one set the whole season. She also got asked to be a demonstrator at the Nebraska Coaches Association summer clinic along with four other Southwest girls and five North Star girls. The high school coaches met at North Star high school and they brought in college coaches to show them new drills and techniques. The schools can’t use past high school players because it gives girls an unfair advantage with these college coaches, so they have to use future freshman. Mandy said she did pretty well and had a lot of fun doing it.

But now tryouts are around the corner and volleyball keeps playing with her mind. She had volleyball camp a week or two ago, right after church camp. She was told to go to the upper grade camp with the older girls. But, she was pretty tired after church camp. She said she did OK, but they had her on the middle court the first day of camp, and the lower court the second day. She hopes that means she didn’t blow it. She doesn’t know if that means she will be on the Reserve team or the freshman team. She just really hopes to be on a team. Her club coach told her he would like to see her on the Reserve team because she would get a lot of playing time. I pray he is right.

It’s super hard to sit back and watch your kid suffer and stress out. As a mom, you know what your kid is capable of – you’ve seen them do it. But you also have seen them psych themselves out and struggle. I wish I could do something to help. I just pray that all the hard work she has done this summer pays off. I just want her to see that if you work hard, you can reach your goals. Rick says that if she worked that hard this summer and only makes the freshman team, well then, that means she might not have even made a team had she not worked this summer on her skills. And if she doesn’t make a team, that’s God’s way of saving me from all the stress. Ack. I just wish it all was over.

And that’s just volleyball. This afternoon we are going to the Southwest open house. Mandy is nervous about finding her classes and getting the lock open on her locker when school starts. I think out of the dozen tries she only opened it twice on locker day last week. Perhaps she might want to keep all her books in her backpack, just in case.

But one thing I am definitely not worried about is Mandy making friends. Oh my goodness. When we went to locker days, she met one friend at the front door, and ended up walking around with a pack of girls she had met through various sports. She makes a lot of friends. When I introduced myself to someone’s dad at volleyball last night, we pointed out our daughters while they were running drills. After he pointed out his daughter, I said my daughter was Mandy, the one over there with the red hair. He said “Oh, of course, Mannnndddddyyyy.” That was nice. But I think the thing that I was most pleased about happened before the practice even started. Mandy was chatting it up in the middle of a group of friends on the bleachers, and there was a girl sitting by herself a couple of rows down. She looked scared to death to be there. I felt sorry for her because she obviously was nervous and shy. Everyone else was there with their friends, but she was there all alone. I didn’t have to feel bad for long. Mandy quickly noticed her and screeched “Hi Kaitlyn.” And before I knew it, she pulled her up with the other girls and Kaitlyn was made part of the group. I just love Mandy.

Everywhere we went at locker days, Mandy knew girls from volleyball. And when we went back to the commons area, a bunch of soccer girls were screechingly happy to see her there. Clearly she was acting her goofy self during summer soccer, just like she does at volleyball. I foresee a lot of screeching in her future. Boys – well that’s another story.

She has several boys who are her friends. Mandy texts back and forth with them wherever we go. She has no problem talking to regular boys. She makes friends with boys very easily. But boys who she likes, that’s another story. She may be strong and she may be intelligent, but she runs scared and stupid when a cute boy looks her way. Mandy does not chase boys. She is too afraid she might catch one. She would rather spend the rest of her life going to the movies with her mother than risk saying the wrong thing to a boy she likes. She gets sad because she says lots of boys look at her, but boys never come over and talk to her. She says no one will ever ask her out on a date, no less to Homecoming. Rick, of course, says there is nothing wrong with that. In fact, that is just the way he likes it. Forget about the concealed carry permit. He is wearing his guns holstered at his sides, out where all the high school boys can see them. Evidently Lincoln, Nebraska has re-entered the days of the Wild West.

Rick does make me laugh. But sometimes I don’t understand him. He is over-protective when it comes to boys, but he just went out and bought Mandy a school car. WHAT? When did we start thinking she would start learning how to drive? I knew the Alzheimer’s was starting to kick in, but I didn’t know he had completely lost his mind.

In about two months Mandy will turn 15. Yes, 15. I remember when I was 15. Let’s just say I am concerned. Hopefully Mandy is nothing like her mother. I remember dating at least two boys who had motorcycles when I was that age, just because I liked motorcycles. 15. Oh dear.

So, I intend to do a lot of praying the next several months. Praying for volleyball tryouts, easily opened locker locks, and for the DMV to magically be shut down in October when we go for a learner’s permit.

No matter what happens with Mandy, I’ve always got my Joe to lean on. He’s always there to lend me some sensible words of wisdom.

But, alas, that too may soon come to an end. When I came home from church camp this year I was telling Joe how boy- and girl-crazy the kids all were his age. I told him he would have laughed. All the seventh grade girls were following around his best friend Ben, admiring the muscles he developed over the summer at swim meets and calling him “hot.” But instead of laughing, Joe’s response was “Really. How much does he bench press?” When I said I didn’t know, Joe said, “Well may be I ought to go to camp next year.” Noooooooooo, not my Joe.

Just wake me when it’s over. I’m totally not ready for this.