Keeping Your Kids (and yourself) Humble in Sports

November 18, 2013 by Kelli

Like any parent, I am unendingly proud of my children. While I am privy to the very worst of who they are on a day by day basis, I am also privy to the very best of who they are. Lee and I know our children better than anyone else on this planet. We see what makes them tick, certain aspects of their personalities that need to be polished and refined, and we have a foreshadowing of their gifts and how they can best be used.

With Lee having been a collegiate athlete, and me spending most of my formative years in competitive sports, it’s no surprise that our children have mostly drifted toward athletics, and they are blessed with skills that allow them to compete well. I’m not going to hide the fact that my children are good at sports, but how do I keep them, and myself, humble as we travel this road of competitive sports?

First and foremost, it takes a load of perspective to simply stay realistic. Yesterday Tia had the best gymnastics meet of her season. She improved all of her scores, raised her All Around score by over a point and took home the 1st place All Around trophy. My daughter is a gifted athlete, and right now gymnastics is the sport that is showcasing her God-given abilities.

But she will not be an Olympian. Lee and I know this. Tia, of course, dreams of the Olympics like every little girl dreams of the Olympics, and I will never, ever squash that dream. As long as she wants to go for gold, I’ll be standing behind cheering her on. I just know, however, that she won’t go to the Olympics in gymnastics, and I am okay with that.

Photo courtesy of my mom who blesses us with awesome pictures so we can sit back and enjoy the competition!

As she competes, we work hard to keep her head level by encouraging her to compete against herself. We don’t urge her to beat her teammates, we urge her to beat her last score. At her last meet she scored in the 9’s on two events – this time we told her to aim for scoring 9’s in three events. She took our challenge and upped it, scoring in the 9’s on all four events. That was her own goal for herself.

The cute is almost too much in this photo…

On equal measure, our boys have shown great propensity for sports. One loves to play simply for fun, without a huge care of winning or losing. The other lives, eats and breathes ball, and it will not surprise me one little bit if that one goes on to play college ball, or even play professionally someday. He may not do either of those things, of course, but I wouldn’t be shocked if he did because he’s got a winning spirit combined with natural ability.

No matter what our children choose to do with their extracurricular time, though, we want them to know that athletics are just a piece of who they were made to be. What matters more to me is the character behind the athletes. Are they kind? Do they support their teammates? Are they good sports? Are they genuinely excited to see someone else succeed, even if they don’t?

And what are they doing off the field, or outside the gym? Those are the things that truly matter. Life isn’t all about sports, and the second that it becomes so, then something must change.

These are lessons that will need to be learned, and they can only be learned if Lee and I model them. We will push them to be the best they can be, but not at the detriment of character. Ways that we work to model healthy competitive character in sports:

– We will never so build our children up that they believe themselves to be all that and a bag of chips (how’d you like that little phrase from the ’80’s?). Humility has to be taught, so as soon as they start thinking they are the bomb, we have to (lovingly) bring them down a notch or two.

– We speak highly of our children’s teammates. We praise their abilities, congratulate their successes, and cheer them on with as much fervor as our own kids.

– To the best of our ability, we try to become friends with the other parents. We have been blessed so far in our sporting endeavors in that we’ve been surrounded by very positive, kind parents. I know that’s not always the case, but thankfully it is our experience, which means it’s not that hard to become friends with the parents of our kid’s teammates!

– We encourage our kids to be the best they can be not to beat their opponents, but to beat themselves. Yes, they want to win, and that’s okay. But do it for yourself, not for anyone else, and be gracious in winning, as well as in losing.

– We simply don’t allow ourselves to get too wrapped up in it. As Lee says, “Never want it more than they do.” When you watch your child compete, it’s so easy to get completely absorbed in every detail of their sport, but we have to remind ourselves that this is not all that comprises a life. Athletics are a small part of who they are – but it’s not the only thing. Lee and I have to remember that ourselves so that we can remind them.

The world of athletics can be tricky to navigate, especially as a parent. We feel every success and every disappointment right alongside our children. But if we can maintain control and perspective over our own emotions, we will be much better equipped to teach our children to control their emotions, which in the long run will only set them up for success in all of life.

Are you a sports family? How do you keep your children (and yourself) humble?

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Motherhood, Sports Tagged With: athletics, humility, keeping kids humble in sports, Kids and sports, parenting, Raising children

The Post About Hair

September 9, 2013 by Kelli

We tumble out of the car after church and rush into the house, a bundle of nerves and excitement.

“I’m scared,” she says, her eyes a little bigger than usual. “What if I mess up?”

“Go put on your leotard and your warm ups and we’ll talk about it,” I answer.

Ten minutes later she sits at the table and I begin brushing her long, kind of thin, white-blonde, mousy hair. Bless her precious little heart, she is the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen, but she definitely drew the short stick when it came to hair.

As she talks through the nerves she feels about competing in her very first gymnastics meet, I deal with my own nerves. Naturally, I was a little nervous for her, but my bigger issue came in the form of what on earth should I do with that hair?

See, I read the team manual. I know the rules. That hair has to be up and back and off the face and it cannot come loose under penalty of death. Or loss of a few tenths of a point. Whatever.

The point is, getting the hair right for a gymnastics competition is of the utmost importance.

And we all know who gets judged on the hair – she’s seven, folks. I’m on the hot seat for hair that refuses to stayed tied tight.

“Let’s put your hair up in a bun,” I suggest, and she immediately balks. I forgot to mention – she hates having her hair done. It ranks right up there with getting a shot. She does it because I say she has to, but she’s not happy about it.

I pull her hair back as tight as possible when it’s spun of pure silk and tried to secure it in a ponytail holder.

“You’re hurting me!” she wails. She grabs at the bottom of her head and yanks a chunk of hair out of my fingers.

“It’s supposed to be tight,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Well I don’t want it in a bun!” she cries. “My hair doesn’t work like that. I have small buns!”

I snicker as I tried to regroup the hair on top of her head because the twelve year old in me cannot hold back.

“Well what about braids? Your coach said braids are a great way to keep your hair out of your face.” I set to work weaving her hair into tight braids down the back of her head as she whines and groans about how much I’m hurting her and it doesn’t have to be that tight and sweet mercy if this child ever decides to become a dancer, she’s going to have to employ her own hair dresser because I will not survive such shenanigans!

I tie the braids, but they hang funny over her shoulders. It’s a bit Pippi Longstocking, and while I find it mildly adorable, I can envision her lying on a counselor’s couch one day lamenting the fact that she could have been an Olympian if only her mother had been able to come up with an acceptable gymnastic’s meet hairstyle.

I fold the braids under and secure them with ribbons and enough hair spray to chip out a small hole in the ozone layer, then tell her to do a couple of back walker overs and make sure it will work.

“It hurts! It hurts so bad! Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow, Ow! Why is it so tight! It hurts.hurts.hurts.hurts.hurts!!!”

It’s at this point I begin humming Jesus Take the Wheel while wondering what she would look like with a shaved head. (She’d look precious. I’m sure of it…)

She waffles back to the kitchen table, clutching her head as though I had woven thorns into her braids and we set back to work. The only issue is I’ve put so much hair spray into it, that it’s not going anywhere. So I twist, pull, tug, and pray until I have it tucked it in a way that allows her full movement of her head. She hops off the table and rolls her neck around.

tia meet

“Fell better?” I ask. She nods and runs to the bathroom.

She looks in the mirror, side to side, then looks at me.

“I look weird,” she says.

I drop my head, shrug my shoulders and wave her outside where I spray glitter into her hair because glitter covers a multitude of sins.

And we’re on our way.

She ended up tying for third in her meet. It’s probably easy enough to attribute her success to her hard work and dedication, but after the fiasco we went through to get her there, I’m going to take full credit for her success.

Gold medal for Mom.

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Sports, Tia Tagged With: Gymnastics, Gymnastics hair styles, Keep it together Mama!

I’d wave hello but I can’t raise my arms

July 17, 2013 by Kelli

Confession: I am out of shape. Massively, wildly, annoyingly, ridiculously out of shape. Where working out and fitness was once an integral part of my daily routine, it has become a chore – something I dread and want to get over with…or just not do at all.

When the kids were younger, going to the gym was my escape. It gave me an hour or two a day away from them. I’d drop them off in the play area where they could have fun and I could sweat off a little stress. Or, um, sit in a dark corner and read a book in silence, which I did on more than one occasion.

Physical fitness is mental, too, you know!

Now that they’re older, I can’t really take them to the play area anymore. Which means if I want to work out, I have to squeeze it into the parts of my day that I don’t want to spend in the gym – like early mornings (I would rather sleep) or the evening (I’ve had way too much time to talk myself out of it). I’d like to say that when they go back to school, I’ll get back in the routine, but I’m afraid my brain has shut down the part that used to find working out enjoyable.

I’m trying to revive it.

Last Saturday I accompanied my neighbor to a boot camp with a trainer who came to our neighborhood and ~~tortured~~ pushed us with squats, push ups and running. RUNNING! It’s been long enough that I knew I should take it a little easy, but there is still a competitive side of my brain that’s active and well, and she did NOT like being left behind.

It’s Wednesday, which means that I can finally move without muttering four letter words under my breath. I feel victorious!

Thankfully my upper body remained relatively unscathed from our ~~torture~~ fitness session. But yesterday when a friend and I took our kids to Busch Gardens for what was meant to be an afternoon of fun, that changed entirely. Picture this: two adults, five children, one of which has a sprained (possibly broken) foot, a wheelchair, two strollers and all the bags that go with taking children to a theme park.

Now, add lightening and a torrential downpour. If you see me today and I don’t wave hello, just know it’s because I can’t raise my arms for all the dashing through the rain in flip flops, pushing a 50 pound kid in an umbrella stroller.

I mean…this is getting ridiculous.

I told you a few months ago about how I joined forces with Pretty Muddy as a means to get back into shape and have a little fun doing it. So I haven’t really started training, yet. At all. Seriously not at all. I mean, the race isn’t until December and I only need to run 3.2 miles so I just thought I’d procrastinate a bit because I HATE ALL THE RUNNING!

I excel at procrastinating. It’s a gift.

After this week, though, I think maybe it’s time to put in a tiny bit of effort. So in an effort to stop embracing laziness, I signed up for MyFitU…a week ago. I plan to start using it today. Or tomorrow. Soon. I’m going to start using it soon.

Maybe if you join me, we can do this together? MyFitU has teamed up with Pretty Muddy as their official online personal trainer. As a result, I get to offer my readers a promotion for 50% off ANY MEMBERSHIP YOU CHOOSE. That’s an awesome deal! This offer can be applied to the 1, 3, 6 or 12 month plans, which means the more you commit to the program the more you save.

MyFitU is a great concept in that they take your overall health statistics and put together a personal plan to help you achieve your weight loss goals. The only thing MyFitU cannot do for you is make you get online and log in your daily activity.

Ahem.

MyFitU offers a comprehensive workout plan to help you maximize your workouts. Based on your weight and activity level, you will be given a daily caloric intake to aim for and you have access to hundreds of healthy recipes to help you acheive your goals.

Seriously, it’s the cheapest personal trainer you’ll ever sign up for!

So, does anybody want to join me? If so, visit MyFitU.com and sign up. When you get to the check out enter the promo code PRETTYMUDDY50 for your 50% off discount. Then come back and let me know if you’re going to give it a try. And go ahead and ask me if I entered my activity in for the day. I will happily accept the accountability.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off take a little more Ibuprofen and attempt to stretch out my screaming muscles.

Disclaimer: As part of the Pretty Muddy blogger team, I received a three month membership to MyFitU free of charge. I am grateful for the opportunity to work with both organizations as clearly I need someone to push me out of this lazy funk.

Filed Under: discipline, Exercise, Giveaway, Running, Sports Tagged With: Getting in shape, MyFitU, No more lazy, Pretty Muddy

We decided to say Yes

May 8, 2013 by Kelli

We knew early on that Tia had a knack for gymnastics. Remember when I walked outside and found her like this at three years old?

Shortly after taking this photo, we signed her up for her first gymnastics class. Within a year she was selected for a special developmental team and we slowly tip-toed our way into competitive gymnastics.

This has been one of our tougher parenting decisions, honestly. It’s been hard to know how much to allow, how much to push, how much of her time to commit to a sport that she likely won’t be able to stick with long term. We held her back for a long time, not pushing or allowing her to move too quickly for fear it would be too much.

This year it finally came to the point where moving her up in the sport was inevitable. We either needed to make the commitment or pull her from the sport and guide her in a different direction.

We decided to say yes.

Tia is currently training three days a week for a total of 11.5 hours. It’s a big commitment for a seven year old and it isn’t one we made lightly. I still have worries and concerns about the time it’s taking, and yet…

She really loves the sport. She loves the challenge of it and the thrill of getting a new skill. She thinks the beam is fun, which is just crazy talk if you ask me. And she runs so hard down the vault runway that she scares everyone but herself.

There are times when I drop her off for one of the four hour practices that I wonder why on Earth we are doing this. Is it foolish? Should she be at home with her family? Are we stealing her childhood? Will this affect her relationship with her brothers?

Then I laugh and shake my head. I think the time apart improves her relationship with her brothers. Also, we live in an amazing neighborhood full of kids, half of which spend most of their afternoons playing in my backyard.

All of them are boys.

There aren’t a lot of little girls running around our neck of the ~~woods~~ beach, so gymnastics is, for Tia, a crucial time of socialization and girl time. It’s where she’s learning all those cute little girl chants and clapping games that every single girl has played since the beginning of ever.

Gymnastics is not only making her stronger and more confident – it’s also giving her the perfect outlet to be a silly little girl and I really love that for her…even if the sassy hip pop makes me want to roll my eyes.

I have no idea how long she will want to stick with this sport. The time commitment is so intense and it makes for some really long days. But in the long run, we finally decided that whether she does it for a year or five, these hours in the gym won’t be wasted. She can take the skills, both physical and mental, that she’s learning on the blue mats and apply them to any other sport and experience in life.

Parenting is so hard. We are given these children for a short time and we begin to recognize talents and gifts and suddenly the pressure to develop those gifts, to point them in the direction that will best suit them, gets all heavy and freaky and you find yourself wondering if you’re really helping them or if you are forever screwing them up.

Then you breathe in. You watch a beautiful vault, hear the crack of the bat, scream as the ball soars into the net, shriek when he runs the ball in for a touch down, and you breathe out again.

And when she walks out of the gym and collapses in a heap of tears because the workout was so hard that night, you wipe her tears and tell her to stick with it, because you know it’s important to fight through the pain.

You also know that the day will come when she’ll turn and look at you, holding a ribbon high with a joyous grin plastered across her face and in return you’ll give a huge thumbs up and clap louder than anyone else at the accomplishment.

Those are the moments we wait for as parents. Those are the moments when we’re glad we said yes.

What about you? Have you made big extracurricular commitments with your kids? How did you make the decision to commit your child’s time to a single activity?

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Sports, Tia Tagged With: Commitment, Gymnastics, Kids and sports, PArenthood

The Terrible, Awful, No-Good, Very Bad Day

November 27, 2012 by Kelli

You know those days when nothing seems to go right and you think, “Golly Gee. I sure wish this icky day would skeedaddle.”

Or, you know…something along those lines.

Well, folks. THAT was our Monday. Totally and completely icky. Like, not swell, man.

The day started alright. Christmas decorations were up, the house was fairly clean despite half of Orlando having visited over the weekend and I got ten pages of my novel written. It seemed like one of those sunshiney days that musicals are made of. I think, actually, that’s what made everything go awry. The day was too perfect. There’s nowhere to go but down from perfection.

The kids came home from school in great moods. They were jazzed and revived after a week off and immediately set into their homework in a way that was almost freaky in a Stepford kinda way. Tia even took her homework outside because it was freaking 74 degrees out. Even Mother Nature felt pretty good about herself.

Apparently, however, the devil wanted to ruin this idyllic day. It started when Tia came in to play. Everyone was cheery and happy for about thirty minutes. Sloan sat on the couch playing the iPad and Tia leaned over his shoulder to watch.

Then she shrieked.

“Something’s poking me!” she cried, yanking on her pants leg. I assumed she had some kind of sticker from outside and tried to pull her hands away from her leg, but she began trembling and crying and she dashed to her room, yanked the pants off and threw them at me. I picked them up and shook them and Hark! A massive bee fell out. Tia came out moments later with four large welts on her knee.

Strike one to the perfect day.

An hour later, half the neighborhood was over playing kickball in our backyard. Lee came home and, ever the awesome Daddy, he joined in on the game. Because I’d already started dinner, had laundry going, had the house cleaned and in general had nothing else to do, I decided to not be a fuddy duddy and join in on the neighborhood kickball game.

Truth be told, I succombed to Mom-Guilt. I felt bad for not playing with my kids and decided the nice mommy thing to do would be join in. I had on my Ugg boots and briefly considered changing the, but then decided, “Nah. I’ll just kick a couple of times then bow out.”

On my second kick, as I ran the bases, my left boot slipped a little, curling my toes underneath and sending all my weight onto the top of my foot.

Friends, the only pain I’ve ever felt worse than that was natural childbirth. It was as though someone lit my foot on fire and to make matters worse all the neighborhood kids were gathered around so I could neither cry or curse, both of which I wanted to do in abundance.

So four bee stings and a broken foot. Day’s not shaping up well. (And yes, the foot’s broken. I got an X-Ray just to be sure. It’s just a hairline fracture and should heal quickly. I also learned that I have two bones in my foot that are not connected and likely have never been. It’s a rare something or other people have from birth. So…there’s something you didn’t know about me, eh?)

As I sat on the couch nursing my swollen foot a neighbor boy came in looking for an iPad to play. He grabbed Lee’s. He dropped Lee’s. It shattered.

And that’s when we sent everyone away and hunkered down for the night hoping to avoid any more lightening strikes.

There’s a moral to this story, you know. No…”Don’t Play Kickball in Uggs” is NOT the moral. “Don’t let neighbor kids touch expensive electronics” isn’t the moral, either, though is has been added to our house rules. No, those are not the morals to be taken from this story. CLEARLY the moral is “Mom-Guilt Clouds Your Judgement Making You Think That Playing Ball with Your Kids is Better Than Sitting Down in a Quiet House with a Book for Fifteen Minutes.”

The End.

So…how’s your week going so far, hmmmm?

PS: At the end of the day, I’m more than aware that we are so blessed. I am beyond grateful for all that we have and I don’t share our horrible awful day to complain so much as to laugh a bit, because seriously?! How can all that go on in the span of just a couple of hours?!

So don’t cry for me, Argentina…

Filed Under: Family, funny stuff that happens, Kids, Life, Sports Tagged With: Bad Day, Broken Foot, Kickball is dangerous, Thank goodness that day's over

If ever you believed you couldn’t

October 13, 2012 by Kelli

If there was ever a time when you thought you couldn’t do something.

If ever a task seemed too insurmountable, too big, too impossible.

If ever you doubted your ability to achieve a dream.

Then please…

Please…

Watch the St. Louis Cardinals play a baseball game in the postseason.

Nothing is impossible when you have the talent, the desire and the will to go after it.

Filed Under: 31 Days, Sports Tagged With: 12 in '12, 31 Days of Belieiving I can, St. Louis Cardinals

Watch your back, Peyton Manning

August 7, 2012 by Kelli

Dear Peyton Manning,

I think you’re great. I mean…well, truthfully, had I not married into a family full of sports nuts, I probably wouldn’t know who you were. I’d likely have only a passing awareness of your name, but I would not be intimately aware of the details of your life, your big moves (Go Denver! Okay, I totally had to pause to go look that fact up and make sure I was right before hitting publish…) and your familial affinity for the game of football.

But my life involves a whole lot of Sports Center, so I do know these things. I know you’re considered one of the greatest Quarterbacks of all time (at least, I think you are. Actually, I don’t really know all that much at all…) Anyway, my point is this – you’re really good. I know you are. But you might want to watch out, because this kid?

He just could de-throne you.

What’s that?

Who am I?

Oh…I’m just this kid’s Mom.

Note to self - We need to invest in one of those giant tents because the Florida sun is intense.

Yes…I know that makes me partial and that my opinion is completely biased and I seem to have very little true knowledge of the ins and outs of your sport but…

What? Why do I think he’s out to take your spot as one of the greats?

Also need one of those water packs. Brilliant!

Oh, you know…only because he threw four perfectly spiraled passes for four touchdowns in his first football game ever after only three practices, one of which he did mere seconds before being sacked.

Watch your back, Peyton. There’s a new kid in town and he’s got quite the swagger.

Oh and by the way…he also has a little brother who happens to be a sports prodigy so you might want to tell Eli to watch out, too. Today it’s the Manning Brothers but give it twenty years…it just might become the Stuart Brothers.

In my totally and completely biased opinion…

PS – I used to think there was nothing cuter than a little boy in a baseball uniform. I was wrong. Little boys in football uniforms take the cake.

Do you have any budding little athletes in your house?

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Kids, Sloan, Sports, summer fun Tagged With: Eli Manning, Kids and sports, Little boys in football, Peewee football, Peyton Manning

Ready, Break!

August 2, 2012 by Kelli

I like to call this Portrait of an iPad.

I am on technology overload this week and I’ve hit the burn out zone, which can only mean it’s time for a much needed break.

Sometimes the constant noise leaves me feeling emotional, unsure of myself and altogether irritable so I’m just going to take a few days off to collect my thoughts, get a little rest, clean that mystery stain on the couch and try to solve the issue of the ants in the bathroom.

WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM?!?!

In the meantime, I’ve seen some really amazing posts online this week. I will leave you with the words of those who are wiser than I am and will hopefully come back next week a little more rested and a little less grouchy.

Shaun’s post on why bigger crowds are less compassionate rumbled through my head all week and gave me much pause for reflection.

He also launched the new and improved Compassion Bloggers site and it’s clap your hands awesome. You should check it out!

Becke’ strung together words in the most beautiful way yesterday nearly leaving me breathless. She is ridiculously talented.

Sophie made me laugh out loud (LOL? No…) with her exciting new heights of under-acheivement.

McKayla Maroney rocked her vault leaving me a little stumped as to how on Earth the judges could have given her any less than a perfect score. Perhaps they are robots, incapable of emotion? Her post vault reaction also made me wish I could bring her home with me and put her in my pocket just so I could pull her out and have her jump up and down and say “Yay,” every time I needed a little cheering up.

Angie Smith wrote about her table and managed to make me cry in the process.

The Olympic Swimming Team’s cover of Call Me Maybe makes me so very happy. It will make you happy, too. How cute is Missy Franklin?!

That’s it for me this week. I’m off to take the kids to the park, buy some school supplies, hopefully take a nap and spend a little time just being quiet today. You know, I remember a time when the internet wasn’t around, when there weren’t 52,000 TV stations to watch and when the only thing that tweeted were birds.

Because I’m that old.

Does anyone else ever feel like they’re on sensory overload? No? Just me?

Super…

Filed Under: Blogging, Compassion International, discipline, Life, Sports Tagged With: Break, Internet, Life, Links, Olympics, Quiet

To us, they really will always be kids…

July 31, 2012 by Kelli

It’s all Olympics all the time around here. I’m exhausted. If we could get a medal for dedication to watching and cheering on, I feel I deserve at least a bronze. I went to bed at ten last night after looking up the results online because I was just too tired to spend another night watching TV so that knocks me down a bit in the medal stand.

The Olympics are emotional. No matter who wins or loses, I find myself in tears almost every single time. Every race, every match, every event is the culmination of dreams come true for some and dashed dreams for others. We are watching lives unfold before our very eyes, and it is exhausting.

P & G’s Thank you, Mom series of commercials isn’t helping. This particular commercial turns me into a blubbery mess every single time.

The other one that messes with me is this one, because it’s true. No matter how old, or how big, or how great they become, to us Mama’s they’re frozen in time, the little ones who begged for nighttime hugs and kisses, one more drink, a few more snuggles and can I please sit on your lap, Mommy?

Their giggles are frozen in time, the freckles that dot their noses imprinted in our memories until the day we close our eyes for the final time. As much as I love to watch the athletes succeed, I love to watch their parents even more. With each twist and turn, each stroke made, each stride, the mothers and fathers who walked this road alongside them move. You can see the tension in their faces, the relief in their eyes when it’s all said and done.

Most of us parents won’t be sitting in those sidelines. Most of us won’t welcome home an Olympian or a Super Bowl Champ or a World Series MVP. Most of us will allow those dreams to foster in our kids knowing that it’s probably not really in their futures and we’ll be okay with it.

But we will all watch our children grow and learn and succeed and fail in different areas – maybe on a world stage, maybe in an office cubicle, maybe in a classroom or a mission field or a boardroom or as parents raising their own children. We will watch them grow and develop and become who they were meant to be.

And we will love them fiercely and deeply and proudly.

Some of us will be disappointed by the decisions our children make. We will sit back and watch them struggle and we will ache and cry and pray and long to see them crawl out of the pit that they have dug for themselves.

And we will love them fiercely and deeply and proudly.

As we drove home from Sloan’s football practice the other night, he shared with us some of his fears. He is not an aggressive child making football an odd choice for him. He’s built for the game and is talented enough, but his heart is so tender and competition is not really in his genetic make up.

But he wanted to play, so we signed him up.

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt someone,” he said. “And, I’m afraid I won’t do a good job and you will be disappointed.”

“Son, let me tell you something,” Lee said, turning the rearview mirror so he could look into the eyes of his first born. The one he loves fiercely and deeply and proudly. “You can make every single play, throw the ball perfectly and win the top championship in the world, and I will be so proud of you and I will love you,” he said and Sloan nodded.

“And you can miss every pass, fumble every ball, miss every tackle and trip over your own two feet the entire game, losing every game you play and I will be so proud of you and I will love you.” Sloan nodded again.

“There is nothing you can do on or off that football field that will change the fact that I am proud of you and I love you. Because you are my son and that’s all that matters to me.”

To us, they will always be kids. They will fail and they will succeed. They will hurt and mess up and get angry and they will still be our children.

I don’t need a gold medal or a championship ring or a World Series pennant to be a proud and emotional Mama.

Are you watching the Olympics? Are you as tired as I am?

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Lee, Sports Tagged With: Kids and sports, Love, Olympics 2012, P & G Thank You Mom, parenting

Sports World

January 23, 2012 by Kelli

BRAG ALERT! BRAG ALERT! BRAG ALERT! BRAG ALERT! BRAG ALERT! BRAG ALERT!

My husband is a freakishly good athlete. It’s actually annoying, really, how good he is a sports. He can play pretty much any sport well and when I say well, I mean better than the average population.

In college, one of my favorite past times was rollerblading. Oftentimes, I went out with a bunch of guy friends and I prided myself in being able to at least keep up with them as we buzzed around the Baylor campus, leaping down flights of stairs and doing various tricks without helmets…

So when Lee and I were dating and he told me he had never been on roller blades, I jumped at the chance to take him because I figured finally something I could do better.

Within fifteen minutes on his roller blades he was jumping, turning circles, skating backwards and doing tricks I would never even dare to try.

Punk.

It is with a ~~small~~ ridiculously large amount of glee that I tell you, however, that my husband can’t water ski to save his life. Image Gumby trying to get up on skis and that is about what Lee looks like. It is like a balm to my wounded pride to watch him water ski because I can do that better!

Anyway, the point is, my husband is an amazing athlete. He was a full ride scholarship collegiate basketball player. He was asked to play basketball professionally in Germany just before we got married. And we declined. It is our greatest regret to this day.

So it’s no surprise that I have three kids who are all good little athletes, with the youngest being so much like his Dad it’s a little eery. Landon is a natural with a ball. He always has been. Remember this video?

If you can get past my husband’s glaring hotness you’ll see a then 18 month old Landon dribbling the ball beautifully. Today, he can dribble with both hands while walking. Lee has him dribbling to the beat of music and many days, when he’s decided he’s had enough of the school thing, I can hear the basketball rhythmically bouncing outside…or inside.

And this Saturday, Landon’s four year old dreams came true when he got to start basketball. It was just a YMCA league so we could start slow, but Landon didn’t care. As we headed out Saturday morning, he confidently told us he was headed to the NBA finals.

Tell me, is there anything cuter than a four year old playing basketball?

Defense!

He scored four out of the five baskets his team made.

Landon isn’t the only Stuart child to get their father’s athleticism, though. Sloan is also a pretty amazing little athlete. While he enjoys basketball, the agression of that sport doesn’t match his personality, but baseball and golf are right up his alley.

In fact, we had a pro golf player pull us aside last week and tell us to start getting Sloan lessons and enrolling him in tournaments because he’s a natural with the golf club. “He could be great,” the instructor told us and I believe it. I’ve always known Sloan was gifted in golf, but it was so nice to hear it affirmed by someone else.

I don’t know much about golf, but apparently this is a great swing. I have pictures of him doing this when he was three. The first time we took Sloan to the driving range, he had just turned three. Lee set down a golf and we watched as he hit ball after ball anywhere from 25 to 50 yards.

College ticket?

And of course, Tia loves gymnastics and while she isn’t quite as coordinated with a ball, I could see her being a great soccer player. Mainly because I think she’ll bowl over anyone who tries to take the ball from her. She may have inherited the full brunt of her Daddy’s competitiveness.

Honestly, all three of my kids could grow up to be just average athletes. It doesn’t matter to me whether they’re great at sports or not. I want them to play what they love and love what they play. Sports are secondary. More than anything, though, I love the relationship that is growing between us and the kids as we bond over athletics. It’s fun. We love to go out in the yard as a family and just play.

And this picture is worth far more than any word I’ve typed today. It communicates wholly and fully the love and admiration that my kids have for their Dad and there’s a reason for that.

As good as Lee is as an athlete, he far more excels at being a father.