Kids sports and the lesson I should have already learned

Better late than never

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The worst part about kids sports is that my knees hurt just watching them.

It’s true. Youth is wasted on the young. Kids have zero respect for just how bendy their little bodies are.

My own very bendy kid does sports.

And he is registered for precisely way too many of them.

This comes as a shock to me, even though I personally signed him up for each and every one of them.

It’s shocking because I am a staunch anti-over-scheduler.

I love wide open spaces on the calendar. My palms get clammy when we have too many things happening too close together.

And there’s nothing more satisfying than having an excuse to say “no” to something.

“Thankyousomuchfortheinvite but NO we can’t come.” It’s music to my ears.

But when spring sports were offered this year, something happened.

My kid wanted to do them all. And I wanted him to be able to do them all. .

Because they’re fun. And they’re full of friends. There are so many fun friends at all of the fun sports. Happening all at the same times on all the same days.

This is a problem. I’m realizing this.

My spring calendar is becoming a mix of overlapping lines and colors and none of it is making any sense.

My palms are starting to prickle.

Present Self curses Past Self because she was a selfish b*tch who said “This is a Future Self problem.” I am now Future Self and I’m pissed.

Because now, I have to choose. And I have to tell my kid he has to choose.

Which is a huge bummer.

Because choosing is easy if there’s an obvious winner.

But it’s really, really hard if you want both things on either side of the choice.

It means you’re going to have to say “no.”

Not the same satisfying “no” of having an excuse for something you don’t really want to go to in the first place. Or simply a “no” for “no’s” sake.

But “no” to something you might really want.

And “no” to the possibilities that will never be realized and futures that will never be lived and fun that will never be had if you had said “yes.”

I don’t know if other people experience this as a weird form of agony, the way that I do.

Agony that’s making me procrastinate saying “no” to a little girl’s birthday party because we’re invited to another little boy’s birthday party at a conflicting time.

(Perhaps this is a bad example, as kid birthday parties are let’s just say….generally terrible…but that’s besides the point…)

Because my kid wants to go to both because birthday parties are fun (for him), and on top of that, how do you choose between friends?

This is…tortuous?

Tortuous not because it’s FOMO, but because I have to choose which flavor of FOMO we’re going to taste.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention my annoyance that after four decades, I apparently still haven’t learned this vital life skill of choosing, and now have to teach it to myself, and my kids, at the same time.

This seems unfair. I should send a memo.

Because I think the saying goes “Teach what you know”, but can we change that to “Teach what you should have learned years ago but better late than never I guess???”

What I do know, viscerally, is that every choice is like saying “no” to thousands of alternate realities.

It’s watching your life split behind a train full of sliding doors and seeing multiple Gwyneth Paltrow’s walk in different directions.

(Please tell me you caught that reference).

But…and I’m slowly catching the drift that this is the important part I gotta teach my kids….choosing is, perhaps very obviously, also saying yes.

Not a half-baked “yes” to too-many things. The kind that has you running around unhinged, never fully present and relaxed enough to actually enjoy what you said yes to.

Choosing is the heartfelt “yes, let’s do this” to just one thing.

It means you get to do something specifically because you said “no” to something else.

It’s flexing that terrifying faith of moving forward…and that you have no frickin’ clue how it will turn out…but you’ll handle it no matter what.

And that’s a beautiful thing, bittersweet as it is.

Even if we’re just talking about little league.

xx

Catherine

p.s. this newsletter was a little different than past ones, yes? I've been practicing writing for the sake of writing. (Because I enjoy it. Because it helps me slow down and notice things. Because I want to get better at it, etc, etc...) It's strange to notice the mental resistance that pops up when you let yourself do something simply for the sake of doing it. Anyway, this essay was the result of this new-ish practice. If you liked it, or relate to it, feel free to tell me. If you didn't, don't. Jkjkjk you can tell me that too just be nice. xxoo

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