The kids are alright
On bad parenting
It all started so well.
First batter of the game. My son on the mound. First pitch. Grounder to the second baseman. One out.
That was the only out he would get. Two hits and three walks later he was out of the game.
And I was furious. I couldn’t tell you at what exactly. Just mad. Disappointed he hadn’t thrown better. Wishing I could do something. Mad.
My son, it’s worth noting here, is 11. The game — a meaningless doubleheader on a Sunday in September — meant next to nothing. The stakes couldn’t have been lower.
Ok, now back to me. I stewed for the entire rest of the game. I even called him out — venting frustration in all the wrong directions — for fidgeting with his uniform too often.
By the time the game ended (in a lopsided loss I might add), I had been on a low simmer for a while. So, when we started walking back to the car, I couldn’t help myself — I did what you should NEVER do: Offered up all the things he could have done better in the games. (It was a doubleheader.)
He got upset. Understandably. But he also said something that stopped me in my tracks. It went like this (I am paraphrasing): “You can’t tell me before the game to go out and try my hardest and have fun and then get mad at me after the game for not doing well.”
Boom. That’s an 11 year old putting a 47 year old in his place — big time.
In that moment, shame washed over me. At root, what I want for both of my boys is for them to be happy and fulfilled. To be able to smile and laugh. To not worry or stress out about too much.
And here I was heaping stress (and criticism) on my kid. Who is 11. And playing in a random game — one of hundreds (if not thousands) that he will play in his life.
Parenting, for me, is immensely challenging. The reason is simple: I can’t get myself (and my own issues) out of the way. Who you are as a parent is heavily dictated by who you are as a person. So, if you are grappling with problems in your own life, they inevitably trickle into how you parent. It’s not ideal! But it is reality.
I have been open — and will continue to be open — about my own issues. I am roiling mix of ambition, insecurity, bravado and second-guessing. I am not sure what the future holds for me in terms of a career. It’s an uncertain time! It’s nerve-wracking!
I have found that during this work interregnum, I have leaned on my kids for stability. Driving them to and from the school bus, to and from sports and getting to sit at their games and watch them play provides me with some of the best times I have every week.
(It’s worth noting here that I am extremely blessed to have the resources to do this as I ponder what’s next for me career-wise. I know a lot of people don’t have that luxury.)
But I also think it’s led me to become too invested in their day to day performance — as though it’s some sort of judgment on me as a human. If my kid goes 0-4, I feel bad. If he goes 3-4, I feel good.
What’s lost in that is the context, the process. No one game when you are 11 (or 15 or 19) matters that much. My son, like all the boys he plays with, is going to have good days (and weeks) and bad ones. Baseball is like life in that regard — sometimes you’re hot and sometimes, well, you’re not.
Again, the key is that he enjoys what he’s doing. That he wants to keep coming back. Keep learning. Keep getting better.
Which my son inherently grasps. He may get down about an at bat or an inning but, generally speaking, he finds the good in a game. Every game.
It’s a lesson I am learning from him. That day I told him that I was sorry and that he right — that doing his best and having fun were what really mattered. And that I was focusing on all the wrong stuff.
This weekend brings another doubleheader. And another chance to put into practice the wisdom of my 11 year old. Here’s hoping I can do it.
There is no such thing as parenting perfection. Thanks for sharing, Chris. And, for being able to learn a lesson from your son. It takes a man to recognize a mistake, to try to learn from it, and to share the lesson with the rest of us.
A small kudos to your kid for speaking up. I don't think I would have been as brave as him to speak up and point out MY Dad's contradictions. I think it is a very positive compliment to your relationship if he's comfortable giving you constructive criticism without fear. It's a bonus that you're willing to listen and learn from it.