Bubble Wrapping Not Available

Let's face it, parenting has its moments of both sheer joy and utter despair. Tonight may not fall in the range of despair, but a lot of it has been just plain yucky.

Here's the backstory. Josh loves soccer. He played rec soccer for a few years with a wonderful team and a couple of great coaches. He wasn't a star on his team, but he played with a lot of heart. Two years ago, he made the second tier competition team for our club, and he loved it. LOVED it. The boys and parents were great, as was his coach. He learned so much, grew leaps and bounds as a player, and did I mention he LOVED it? By the end of the year, though, I could see that his skills were not quite matching those of the strongest players. He wasn't quite as aggressive as them, didn't have quite the skill level that they did. He was on the bench more and more frequently, and I just got a pit in my stomach when I thought about tryouts in May. I encouraged (kindly and supportively) Josh to practice frequently, to go on training runs, and to work hard to move forward in his ability, but when the second night of tryouts came around, it was totally obvious that Josh was being cut from his team.

That was a yucky night.

He handled his disappointment with grace. I kept a stiff upper lip, but I was devastated for him. He tried to shrug it off, and he felt like it was the right thing at that time, but it still stung, and we both knew it.

He decided to play with some other friends on a rec team this year. He's been able to really shine as a striker, has made lots of goals, and enjoyed seeing his buddies. But he wasn't really being trained, and his skills weren't really improving. He has just had a good time. (Really, in the long run, isn't that what sports are for?) It's been a very pleasant year for all of us. It's been cheaper, less stress, less travel, less car-pooling, and less time-commitment. All in all, it was a good year.

But he wanted to get back on his team.

So tonight was the last night of tryouts. He was scrappy, more aggressive than he had been last year. I had high hopes for him. And then they called numbers for the final scrimmage and it was clear who would be in the two comp teams.

Not my sweet boy.

Sometimes I want to bubble wrap my kids, to keep them safe from pain. I want to protect their bodies from being hurt, their hearts from being broken, their spirits from being crushed. But I can't. And I know it's not healthy to keep them from heartache and disappointment. Being disappointed is part of living. Pain is part of living. Without it, we never really grow. We never really improve or become better people.

I know that. And I know that it is better for my kids to learn to handle disappointment when I can still be there to help pick up the pieces, to model a good attitude, to take them out for ice cream and let them have a double scoop.

But it still stinks. And I still wish things were different.