Monday, January 13, 2014

Sore Loser

Saturday we spent most of our day in a gymnasium with about 600 other people.  Little Man is in a youth wrestling program and he loves it.  I love the practices.  The coaches work the kids out really hard, teach them how to safely wrestle with each other and work on a lot more.  He's learning disciple, self confidence, respect, is a really great sport for kids.  The meets, however, are not so fun for me.  As I stated, we were in a gym with about 600 other people, probably more.  Little Lady is hell-bent on touching every possible surface and then sticking her fingers in her mouth, I'm doing a non-stop prayer that we don't all get the flu and die, and we spend three house waiting for Little Man to wrestle for three minutes.  And then we wait another hour and he's on the mats for about a minute.  And then we wait again for what seems an eternity and he again is on the mats for about three minutes.  Its painful, all the waiting.  Life is so like that.

He only made it to two meets this year due to previous commitments and then colds.  I see now the grace bestowed upon me there.  His first meet was unexpectedly amazing for my Little Man.  He dominated.  Like the other kids cried while he barely broke a sweat.  It was so one-sided I almost felt bad cheering for my kid.  That was the first meet.  This second one that had us all in the hot, over-populated gym was a little different.  His first competitor actually fared much like the previous ones.  Poor kiddo cried his way through the domination.  I think Little Man was starting to think he was all that.  But then he wrestled a kid who has obviously been doing this for more than a few months.  This kids was freaking good.  And it was our turn to wipe away the tears after the domination.  But losing is a part of life and a part of sports and its a good thing to experience, too.  He did alright and approached his final match with a little more trepidation, I think.  It was was better than the second match, but still not great.  And afterwards Little Man just couldn't pull it together.  He was so upset about losing he cried.  For a long time.  And he got snappier than a crab and we had to threaten to take away technology and have multiple talks on what it means to be a good sport and why that is important and how losing can teach you a lot, too.  It was a bit of a rough time and the car ride home was slightly tense.  But then it was fine and better and life went on. 

Sunday morning rolled around and I was all excited to make a new recipe for breakfast.  I was really pushing the limits on this one: homemade eclairs filled with lemon curd.  And I had high expectations.  But then Little Lady woke up before I could even make coffee let alone start baking.  This child is going to remember her childhood on my hip in front of the stove, because that is where she lives.  She always wants only me, all of the time.  And I'm cooking a lot, so here we are.  Me trying to manually press my espresso with one hand, getting so frustrated that she woke up early and ruined my time to bake alone.  Yes, ma'am, that is what I was thinking.  And it didn't go well and the eclairs didn't rise and I found myself getting snappier than a crab and really not being so nice to the people I love most in this world.  And the eclairs came out of the oven and sunk down so low, they looked like Swedish freaking pancakes.  Ah.  And the big kid said something about how crummy they looked and I kinda lost it.  I was not nice.  And I went away to sulk while they all ate and yelled to me how good they still tasted.  And I stood in the living room, watching the rain through the big window with tears running down my face thinking about how I'm not a good loser either.  And why am I so damn angry all of the time? 

Hubs came up to see if I was alright.  So much grace and mercy all of the time.  He is a good man.  He asked if it was about Jameson.  And I asked, isn't everything?  He's the context of my life.  And part of it is about Jameson.  Losing him has made life a little like walking around without skin a lot of the time.  I'm so much more sensitive about everything.  I can see better, but I can feel everything deeper too.  And everything: joy, anger, sadness, compassion, love, they all seem stronger and I can't temper things well.  The world can just be too much sometimes. 

After breakfast I took the kids out to run some errands and let Hubs get some studying done since he takes the Boards this week.  We got to the store before it opened and went into the pet store to kill some time.  I almost lost it again in the car there, because I was so freaking mad that google had the hours listed wrong online.  I wanted to punch the steering wheel.  But I already behaved badly today and I already had the pep talk in front of the rainy window about how my self worth doesn't come from my cooking or my family or my wins or losses.  My self worth comes from God and that never changes and He always loves me and I can do hard things.  So instead of punching the steering wheel I took a deep breath and took my kids to look at lizards and birds and fish.  Which was interesting.  They were fascinated.  Especially when we got to see the lizards eating grasshoppers and pet the turtles.  Little Lady was super excited about it all.  But it was just all so surreal for me.  All of these normal, domestic sights all seemed so garish and disturbing to me.  I couldn't even handle watching fish in the fish tanks.  I just couldn't catch my breath; it felt like it was my first time seeing "society" after being alone for years.  It was a "skinless" day all day long. 

It seems weird that at 35 I'm just now learning that I'm a sensitive person.  How does that happen?  I'm sensitive.  And I get defensive and angry when I feel inadequate.  Especially with my beloved family.  And I need to work on it all.  I need to be okay with being sensitive.  I need to extend myself some grace to just be on skinless days.  And I need to stop being so defensive and let it go when I lose. 

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