Jay and I get tired of playing the heavy in Seth's life. We both understand the parenting concept of finding and focusing on the positive, encouraging better behavior by rewarding the good rather than punishing or complaining about the bad but I think we both struggle in its execution. I am the homework/grades, piano practice and room cleaning nag and Jay is his scoutmaster and Deacon's quorum advisor and we both feel that he hears the words, "You need to..." leave our mouths much too often. Basketball, in a way, has become a way for us to dabble in the art of positive reinforcement. We love the confidence he has gained with improved skills and we are impressed by his daily work ethic and dedication. He loves the sport. Period. Playing it. Watching it. Practicing it. Reading about it. Dreaming about it. Other than it dominating all of his free time and the cause of subsequent homework/piano/chore/scout nagging, basketball is a very good thing for all of us.
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| His free throw still needs work but he made it in this shot! |
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| He's got a great outside shot even though he usually ends up playing post because of his height. |
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| An earlier tournament from two weeks ago (this one was Saturday only) that his middle school team won. |
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| Post tournament breakfast at Denny's. Seth benefits when eating with his gluten-free dad and brother because he gets their toast. He loves sourdough. |
For those reasons, Jay and I were both inclined to say, "Yes" when an opportunity arose to compete in a basketball tournament down in Albuquerque the weekend after Christmas. The team was a mix of players from both junior high schools and beside the fact that he would be able to continue to practice and play, we thought it would be a great chance to meet and befriend some of the boys he will undoubtedly know next year in high school. Because my parents would be in town and the tournament was a Saturday/Sunday event, Jay was the logical choice as the parent who would accompany him and bring him home Saturday night. I didn't really know any of the other parents well enough to send Seth with them and even though I'm fairly certain Seth wouldn't have chosen to play on Sunday anyway, not having to sit on the sidelines and watch others play the game he loves without him made his choice a bit easier to make.
His team won their first game but got clobbered in their second. That defeat put them in a bracket that required a 9:00 pm Saturday night game. The momager in charge assumed Seth would miss this evening game due to the 3.5 hour drive home but Jay didn't even hesitate with his response. If Seth was going to sacrifice his desires by not playing on Sunday, than he would make it possible for him to play every game he could on Saturday, even if it meant getting home in the middle of the night.
With their previous game ending at 1:00 pm and having already checked out of their hotel room, Jay and Seth had seven or so hours to kill. They went to the mall. They went to a movie. They drove to see the Albuquerque temple. They tried to nap in Jay's truck. Jay texted me a few time with pictures and warned me that they were both starting to feel a cold coming on (because there are still a few more days left in December to shore up its "Worst month of 2013" title).
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| Seth played tough and ended up on the ground a few times. He was more upset about the hole in his beloved basketball culottes (my word) than the painful raspberry on his knee. |
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| In front of the beautiful Albuquerque temple. |
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| At his happy place. Looking at all things Nike. |
I wished them luck and tried to stay awake to learn the outcome of their night game. At 10:08, Jay texted, "56-20 loss. On our way home." A disappointing loss for sure, but the team they played was bigger in size and more polished from practicing and playing together for a year. The loss ended the tournament for the entire team, making the Sunday play issue obsolete - which was a relief to me. I wish it didn't matter but I hate the whole Sunday and sports issue. I would like to avoid the conflict entirely, even if it means losing.
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| Tournament team. I only know the names of about half of these boys. |
I barely heard Jay come to bed and come morning time, we were all struggling. Well...my parents seemed fine and relaxed but all of my kids were off and grumpy and I had overslept and, in one harried hour, was trying to get myself ready, Daniel and Henry ready and in my daze of hairspray and buttoning shirts and pants, didn't realize Seth was still asleep at 8:10 am. Sam woke him up but when I saw him come downstairs, with his glassy eyes, scratchy throat and runny nose, and say, "I'm sick," I was ready to do battle. As heartless as it sounds, he had already missed church twice in the last month with legitimate illness (tis the season, I suppose) and if his dad, who was also sick, was well enough to go, then so was he. I didn't even have to say anything. Jay felt the same way and his response sent Seth angrily and upset up to his room to get dressed as fast as he could. The rest of us sat in the car and waited for him.
He came scrambling out to the garage and even though the rest of us were waiting in my car, he got into Jay's truck. With a running count of heavy sighs already, I got his attention and he switched wordlessly over to my vehicle, shirt unbuttoned, barefoot and holding the rest of his wardrobe in his hands. I had to bite my tongue from saying, "There will be no future basketball tournaments if this is your attitude on Sunday!" I knew the majority of his major moody meltdown stemmed from him feeling sick, but I still felt annoyed. Where was the gratitude for his dad's late night driving? It was a silent 20 minute drive to the church.
On the drive over, he had tied his tie and flattened down his hair but it wasn't until we were only about 2 minutes from the church that he finally started to put on his socks and shoes. With a groan and a thrashing of his head back into the front seat's headrest (Yes. His father had kindly sat in the backseat as well) he announced that he had picked up a shoe that wasn't his and he only had his right shoe. The other was an old Payless brand, black slip-on that was a size 6. It was also another right shoe.
I didn't respond but my mind made the decision that I would drop everyone else off at the building and then drive Seth back home to get his other shoe, most likely lecturing him the entire way about being more responsible, grateful, and organized. We parked and I got out of the car to get Daniel out of his carseat but left the vehicle running since I would be right back in it. Jay, on the other hand, had other plans. He efforted his way out from the way, way back and took off his shoes and told Seth to switch him shoes. I was a little distracted during this exchange, because Henry was forcing his way out and pushing the middle seat into Sam and was managing that minor squirmish but I saw Seth dash off towards the chapel in Jay's brown shoes. I didn't know what to expect when I came around the back of the car, and found Jay attempting to put on Seth's mismatched black shoes. I certainly didn't expect what had been a stressful and tense Sunday morning to become one of the most humorous and memorable of my life.
There was Jay, sitting sideways on the passenger seat, with one normal looking shoe and one much-too-small-obviously-non-matching-wrong-footed shoe. My immediate thought was to a scene in the movie "Strictly Ballroom" when a woman's husband can't be her dance partner because of his literal two left feet. That comedic genius was now Jay's reality and I laughed so hard I started to cry. He wasn't really going to church in those shoes, was he? Oh, yes, he was.
Jay usually helps the deacons with the sacrament but he didn't that day. I think he knew he might cause a scene if he attempted to reverently pass the sacrament with one foot halfway out of a shoe pointing in the wrong direction. Instead, he sat next to me and I intermittently got uncontrollable giggles if I glanced at his feet. My mom asked me what was going on and I told her and she got the giggles too. All was fine and well until Daniel sat on his squeezable pouch of sweet potatoes, making a huge orange mess on the carpet which led to his own personal meltdown. Jay, sitting on the edge of the row, swooped him up and shuffled out of the chapel as fast as his two right feet would allow.
He didn't make it back into the meeting and I don't know if it was due to Daniel's stubborn tantrum or his desire to avoid more awkward movement but I didn't give it much thought until I saw him again after the end of church. Colds that are worst in the morning had let up and both he and Seth seemed in good spirits when they returned to the car. I asked Jay if anyone said anything about his shoes and he replied, "No. Nobody even noticed. I don't think anyone checks out my feet." We all laughed and laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
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| It's sort of hard to tell from even this short distance. I guess that's why Jay was able to make it through church without drawing much attention to himself. |
It could have been such a different story. I could have gotten involved and fumed and fussed about privilege and priorities. In other words, it all could have gone so poorly. I'm enormously proud of Jay's handling of the entire weekend - from the late add-on basketball game and midnight drive to the sacrifice of his personal vanity. The lesson we were going for, from the moment the invitation to this basketball tournament came, was, "We support you! We love you! We want you to be happy and you can be without ever compromising your values or breaking the commandments!" Two right shoes could have thwarted it all. Instead, his father showed that honoring your priesthood responsibilities is always the right thing to do, even when you're tired, sick or in a hurry. We all know that two wrongs don't make a right but two rights certainly can.
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| Closer up. I'm still giggling. It's like Cinderella's ugly black slipper not fitting! |
