Sportsmanship

Ben is playing soccer again this fall and since his coach doesn't have an official assistant coach, I've been helping out as much as I can. I guess I've kind of become the unofficial assistant coach. At Ben's level, the coaches share reffing duties which usually consists of one coach from either team on the field to call out of bounds and goals and basically coach the team as they are playing.

Tonight Kevin (Ben's coach) asked me if I'd like to ref to get practiced up for when he was going to be out of town and needed me to take over for the game. So I took the whistle and headed out. It went pretty well and I had fun, but there were a couple of interesting incidents. During the first half, one little boy from the other team scored and then turned around and pointed in one our players faces and jeered, "You're poo!" Then he ran by another player and shook his fist in her face and taunted "Yaa! Yaa!"

I was shocked. As we were lining up to kick off I caught the little boy as he went by and stopped him. "That's not ok! We don't talk like that." I wasn't sure if or when I should say anything to the other team's coach, but then another of our players came to me upset and said that he'd fallen down and someone from the other team laughed at him. While probably not a huge deal in itself, I felt it was time to say something to the coach. I did and he appreciated that I said something and he talked with his player.

The rest of the game went pretty well, with one other small incident. I was talking with my Dad afterward and were just wondering if the boy who'd been taunting had seen that behavior somewhere before and was just imitating. As we were getting in the van I said "Good game!" to one of the opposing players as they walked by. Ben noticed and looked back to say "Bad game!"

I was floored. Now don't get me wrong, I don't think Ben's a saint, and I know that I've not always been the greatest sport in my past, but I really haven't been into them that much since Ben was born, so he hasn't seen me do that. So where'd it come from?

How much of this stuff do they learn, and how much comes from some natural human tendency? How much is malicious and how much is rejoicing gone overboard?

Most importantly, how do you teach you kids how to be good sports. Maybe it all comes in modeling good behavior, just like everything else. I don't know, but I do know that tonight sure reminded me that I've gotta be vigilant about teaching good sportsmanship to my boys. What a big responsibility!

Next time won't you sing with...

A couple weeks ago, we were sitting in the family room after dinner. Kyle was in the bathroom and taking his sweet time about it. Eventually we heard him start singing the ABCs. As he got the the end he said
"... next time won't you sing with me... next time won't you sing with {long pause} shirt! ...next time won't you sing with {long pause} belly! ... next time won't you sing with {long pause} pants! ..." and so on.

It was a fun new twist on an old song.

What happens when...

You buy your 2 yr. old and 5 yr. old books with stickers

and let them have those books in their bedroom

where they can reach the ceiling from their bunkbed.

Not Right Now

These are words that I'm trying to eradicate from my conversation with my boys. I've been convicted to do this from many sources, not the least of which is listening to myself say it every evening when I get home from work. It's hard, but definitely worth it.

I'm not say it's led to life-changing moments with them, but I think these small moments are building our relationships in just as profound ways as deep conversations or big events.

I would also highly recommend listening to "Cinderella" by Steven Curtis Chapman. It's a poignant reminder that our time with our children is short and a beautiful song about the different stages we get to see our children through.

Boys Club

Yesterday, Ben taped a sign to our door that says:

     de
wolla
slrig on

in his scrawling 5 year old printing. I came home church (Mindy had gone to first service and brought the boys home earlier) and as I came in the front door, I puzzled over this new sign. They were all real letters, not some random lines that Ben sometimes makes, but I couldn't figure out what it said.

Ben opened the door and said "Dad, did you see my sign? It says 'no girls allowed'. This is our boys club! We're gonna sleep in here."

"Yeah!" chimes in Kyle.

I take another look at the sign and sure enough if you read from bottom to top and right to left, it says exactly that: "no girls allowed"