Last Thursday we received text messages from some of the kiddos in our lives. One was from a sixth grader who’s just started playing basketball and was excited to invite us to a 7:45pm game the following Friday night, and the other text was sent by our sophomore Poms girl who wanted to know if I could come see her perform at the football half-time show a few hours earlier on the same day.
Of course I said yes. It didn’t matter that my free Friday night just turned into a definitely-not-free Friday night, or that I had told them I’d be there without consulting Cody (FYI the result would have been the same, it’s just respectful to ask whether he had any expectations for the weekend and compromise from there). When I told Cody that I’d be going to our sweet sophomore’s game and then we’d go to our niece’s game later, Cody just smiled and asked, “How many kids do we have again?”
“How many kids do we have again?”
It was a perfect response to something he could have rolled his eyes at, or begun complaining about (“But it’s a Friday night…”). Instead, he so perfectly summed up why it was important for us to go -of course we’d go show our support on a Friday night because we love the young people in our lives as closely as if they could be our own. It’s what we do.
The half-time show was awesome. The girls’ kick line was really impressive and our sweet sophomore’s smile was enough to warm my heart, even if my fingers were frosting over. When I met Cody at home a little while later, we were able to chit-chat about our work-day and then we left for our niece’s game.
A moment I especially love happened during the basketball game. There was a girl who didn’t look like your “typical” athlete on the opposing team (whatever the hell that even means) – and it was clear to us that she was new to the sport, but it was even clearer that she was super self-conscious. In the defense of her authenticity, you could also tell she tried not to let that tween awkwardness stop her, either. With the game tied at 11, we watched that same young girl score the penultimate point and witnessed the glow-up of the century: the big smile, the high-fives from her teammates, and the fact that, with only 2 minutes remaining in the game, she was leading her team to victory. It was quite a magical moment to see. Cody and I both grinned. With all the goodness behind his voice, he quietly said, “Good for her.” I affirmed, “That girl’s weekend is made.” It was a small moment in our witness, but it was a big one in this human being’s experience. The fact that Cody and I both reacted the same way to this girl’s success tells me all I didn’t realize I needed to feel – that, as future parents, we may not always say the same things, but we’re usually on the same wavelength.
Ultimately, however, in hindsight, what wasn’t said is more important than what was.
Here’s what he never said:
“Why did you bring me here?”
“How long is this going to be?”
“This is painful to watch.”
“She is painful to watch.”
“Poor girl.”
Instead, we focused on the positive. So they’re not that great yet? That’s okay. At least they have a reason to run back and forth. And, sometimes -stupendously- experience such empowering moments that even the sleepy adults in the stands notice. I’m just glad it was my husband who noticed right alongside with me. Pretty cool stuff.
