Sunday, September 18, 2016

The Unfortunate Consequences of Synchronization and Chess



I never thought I'd be one of those mothers who lived through her children, but I guess I am. I was never any good at sports, although I always wanted to be. (I didn't want to play the sports; I just wanted to be good at them.) But my parents wanted me to experience competition and have something to put on my college applications, so I took karate, which I did like. I also took swimming lessons and in high school I was in the synchronized swimming group. I liked that too; I didn't know it was nerdy until the kids saw my yearbook and pointed it out. But it did look good on the applications, since it showed that I knew how to be part of a team.

So I was surprised last night at dinner when Cilla said that she didn't want to do soccer any more. She said it was stupid and wanted to know what difference it made who won. I didn't know what to say, since I felt the same way. Ed pointed out that she got exercise, she got to be with other kids, and she got to learn how to work with others.

Cilla pointed out that she got lots of exercise at dance class and that she saw other kids all the time. Or as she put it, other kids were “Coming in the windows.” She also wondered why it was good to know how to work with others just so you all could win a stupid game, which didn't make any difference to anything.

What surprised me wasn't that Cilla didn't want to do soccer, but that I wanted her to. The athletes are considered cool in high school, and if you're going to be any good, you have to start in grade school, or even pre-K. I was not cool; I was in the nerd crowd. We spent our time trying to get good grades, doing things to put on our college applications (like Chess Club and orchestra) and reading. I pointed out that if she quit she was ruining her chances and if in a few years she changed her mind it would be too late. I reminded her of the synchronized swimming picture in my yearbook and asked her if she wanted to end up like me.

“Really, Charlie, is your life that terrible?” Ed was starting to get huffy,

“Oh, not now. But it was in high school.” I thought of my friends' and my telling ourselves we were Intellectual and deep down wishing we were Cool.

Josh assumed his Father Josh personna. “Now, Cilla, you're breaking Mommy's heart. You don't want to do that do you?”

Betsey would have said I could just suck it up, although in a more polite way, and maybe throw in that I didn't care if she was miserable.

But fortunately for me, Cilla didn't want to break my heart and she started crying. Then she got up and flung herself at me. “Oh, Mother, I am sorry that you were a nerd.” and cried some more, just like a Bette Davis movie.

Over Cilla's head I saw Betsey mouth “drama queen” to Josh. Ed just looked like a dad; concerned, but having no idea what to do. Finally, he had an idea. “Now, Cilla, we've paid for this semester and bought your new uniform and it would be shame to waste all that money. I'll call and find out if we can get it back, but if we can't you'll have to do the fall season. If we can get it back you can quit.”

We weren't able to get the money back, so Cilla is still going to soccer. That's the good news (at least I think so). The bad news is that after every game she points out how stupid the whole thing is. Actually, I think she has a point.











No comments:

Post a Comment