“You aint playing football, buddy. Whatever you want to do, it has to be indoors”
This I told MissAttitude when she started school. Being a single mom with a 6 year old and a baby, being in the middle of a bitter divorce and a cancer treatment, this was my only condition for her: I am NOT standing under the rain every Wednesday watching you kick a ball.
The selected activity turned to be karate. And last year, handball.
“I want to play handball.”
“Where do they play that?”
A hall has a roof, I figure.
“Ok. Go for it.”
Nearly 5 years later, she holds a blue belt, she is grading again in a couple of weeks and she kicks ass with the handball.
This weekend I spent several hours watching her playing “beach handball”, not on a beach, but in a field full of sand. It was not even 10 degrees and a north freezing wind. I am still shivering -and still wondering why I do agree to those things. And it all comes down on compromises. The compromises we parents do when we give them the freedom to choose and the compromise for us, parents to encourage, follow, comfort and cheer them.
We come home and I vacuum at least 3 kilos of sand from the floor. I am exhausted…
LittleDumbass will start school this fall. I wonder what his deal breaker will be, but the conditions remain the same… My deal breaker is seeing MissAttitude cheeks reddened with the wind and the sun.
Fucking sand all over the place…