Football lessons

Just when I finally thought we were close to recovering from a severe lack of sleep and absolutely zero schedule, I realized I had promised to let the boys watch the Ohio State vs. Florida game.

Remember, ours is a house of boys, and football is what we do around here. Thank *goodness* I like football myself. Alright, honestly, even if they were sleeping, I still would have watched the game.

Anyhoo, Sparky and Catfish were so excited about the big game, they willingly took a late afternoon nap so they wouldn't be too crabby today. They woke up hungry, pleasant and ready to root for Ohio State. Now I am NOT an Ohio State fan, by any stretch of the imagination, but Sparky has been so dedictated to them this year, that I was willing to cheer them on for his sake.

Unfortunately even me crossing over to the dark side and cheering for the Buckeyes didn't help them. Poor Sparky was crushed by halftime. He gave up and went to bed. Before he fell asleep though, we had a good talk about doing your best and being a good sport even if you're not number 1. I was initally worried that he would give up on the Buckeyes, but by this morning, he was still proud of his team and wanted to hear the updates from the game.

Catfish, however, caught me completely off guard. He was wound up and stayed awake for the entire game, and so we had some nice one on one time to talk. I asked if he thought Sparky would take the loss ok, and he said that he knew just how to make his brother laugh and that he was sure he would be fine. That truly warmed my heart. But then out of left field, when they announced that the Gators were the National Champions, Catfish broke into tears. I mean heavy, sobbing tears.

WHAT??!!

He's not even the one that likes the Buckeyes!!! I figured he was just tired and feeling empathy for his brother, but it really took me by surprise.

And that's when I realized (again) just how complex our role as parents is.

Here is this tiny, complete person, so similar and yet so different from my husband and I. He has his own take on the world, his own emotions. And while I may know him best right now, there is still so much I am learning about him. And yet, I'm completely responsible. Responsible for raising him into a decent, loving, hard-working, fun, young man. Yikes!

So while I soothed him to sleep with talk of good sportsmanship and the value of doing your best, I also prayed hard. I prayed that God will continue to walk with me as I raise our boys. Because there are going to be so many loops and curveballs on this road, I can't even begin to imagine them. Things that I find trivial might just be earth shattering for my boys. And while I think I know how to give advice, and how to comfort them, I'm realizing more everyday, just how much I cannot do this without Divine guidance. Being a parent is simply too challenging to try it any other way.

So I prayed that I would find the right words to talk football and life and disappointment. I thanked God for giving me these amazing boys to learn from and to love. And mostly I prayed that I just don't completely screw things up with them. I prayed that for the Superbowl, we could pick a winning team. Seriously, I just found myself overwhelmed with how many different lessons were coming out of an evening of football. When all I wanted to do was watch a game, I ended up contemplating the big mysteries of life. Sheesh.

But in the end *and after an admittedly good cry* I felt like I had crossed over a bit, into a new level of parenting. Its no longer teething and diapers only around here. Life is coming fast and there's all kinds of twists and turns awaiting us. Big questions, and hopefully big answers. Crushing defeats and rousing victories and all kinds of "teachable moments". Please God, let me teach them well.