Actually, I didn’t cry at all; there were tears but, none were mine, I KNOW, I find it hard to believe, myself.
Anyway, I took the Man-Cub to school where he was assigned a locker and given a combination lock which not only he and I failed to open but which stymied the Middle School shop teacher for good measure. Following a quick trip to the office for a replacement lock, we managed to get the Cub situated in his locker with time to spare before the first bell. As I left the school, he was joined by a group of his friends which is when I realized that, despite my initial impression that he was so, so tiny, like far too small to be starting Middle School he was, in fact, the same size as all his friends. Um, all his male friends; sixth grade girls appear to be Amazons compared to sixth grade boys, thank you very much, puberty.
So, yes, he was fine. When questioned about his day this afternoon he expressed enthusiasm for his classes and teachers. His enthusiasm was tempered somewhat by his dismay at the quality of the food served in the cafeteria but, a boy can’t have everything.
As for The Teenager, because she is a freshman now and therefore far too cool to be seen with her mother, she walked to school with Kaz. Her nerves had been on edge for the past couple of days and, prior to leaving, she confessed to having butterflies in her stomach. I kissed her forehead and told her that she would be fine then crossed my fingers that it would Be So.
My only indication that her day was going well was a text message assuring me that she had managed to find all of her classrooms.
When I got home from work, however, she met me in the garage in a state of utter desolation; final cuts for the volleyball team were determined at today’s practice and she is terrified that she didn’t make the grade.
I said all of the things that parents say in these situations, that we know she gave it her best when a lot of people never even get up the courage to try. I told her that, no matter what, she is talented and that there would be other opportunities for her. I told her that her dad and I love her whether she makes the team or not and I assured her that we think she is the most awesome kid, ever; none of which mattered the least to her in her current state of course.
So, I suggested that she dry her tears, eat a bowl of ice cream and take a hot bath. Then, I told her to try not to think about the volleyball team until tomorrow, which is when the cuts will be announced.
I’m hopeful, I really am. I also realize that there are twelve positions available on the team and seventeen girls who tried out. In addition, I realize that The Teenager missed a number of practices due to our vacation and that coaches tend to look at that kind of thing and I hope we didn’t jeopardize her chances because I wanted one last chance to watch my children hug an animated character before they are too old to agree to humor me by doing it because; if I am responsible for her not making the team I will require therapy for the rest of my life.
Seriously, though, I am almost as nervous about these cuts as my daughter is. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight and I’m going to have a knot in my stomach all day long tomorrow until I get the word from The Teenager, one way or another which suuuucks and, all I can think is, this is why I didn’t go out for sports in High School Dad.
Anyway, if you are the praying type, please put in a good word for The Teenager; I know it seems like a silly thing to pray for given the general condition of our world and the bigger issues at hand but, I’m a mom and I have to ask.
It’s what we do, after all.