Brokenhearted Basketball Player

Connor loves basketball. He has loved it since he was a tiny boy shooting hoops with dad and his Little Tikes basketball net. He started playing in the YMCA youth league in Fredericton in grade one, and last year he played on his first competitive team. He loved every minute of it, right up to the heartbreaking finish at the OBA tournament in March.

Try-outs for this year's team were last week. He spent Monday and Thursday evenings running drills and shooting hoops with his buddies, most of whom were on his team last year. He came home exhausted each night, but excited about the prospects for the coming year. Chris and I worried a bit about whether or not he is ready for basketball at this level. There are no equal playing time rules this year, and we really didn't want to see him spend the year on the bench. But I thought surely the boys from last year's team had the best shot at making the team this year.

The team roster was to be posted on the website on Saturday by 8:00 p.m. We spent the day at Canada's Wonderland, and didn't get home until 11:30. Chris and I checked immediately, but the site had not been updated. I checked a number of times before I finally went to bed, but the roster was empty. When I woke up the next morning, Chris was reading his iPod. "He didn't make it," he said. My heart sank. How would we tell Connor? We spent 20 minutes discussing our strategy for breaking this inevitably devastating news to our precious son before heading downstairs to find him watching TV with his sister. He turned to us with red eyes and said "Did you see the website?" He had already checked as soon as he woke up. I opened my arms and he fell into them and cried. My boy's heart was broken and there wasn't one thing I could do about it.

He wasn't angry. He didn't ask "Why?" He didn't blame anyone or begrudge any of his friends who had made the team. He even admitted that it was better to not be on the team at all than to ride bench all season. He was just so sad.

We had planned to fall back on the opportunity this would give Connor to play on his school basketball team this year. School ball is not nearly as competitive as OBA basketball at this level, and he would certainly do well representing Lambeth Public School. However, with the current situation in Ontario schools, it is unlikely there will be a basketball team this year. Or possibly next year, for that matter. And that means no basketball at all for Connor. And that breaks my heart.

I wish it was just about not making this team. I wish it wasn't also about not playing basketball at all. I wish it wasn't about no longer seeing all the friends he made on the team last year (They don't go to his school, or even live near enough to get together easily). I wish Connor's self-esteem was not so wrapped up in being a basketball player. I pray that it isn't, in the end. I pray that he knows that he is an amazing kid who is good at so many things, whose parents and so many others love him and appreciate his kind heart and great attitude, who just happens to like to play basketball. And I also hope he continues to love basketball. I'll miss hearing the rhythmic bounce, bounce, bounce on the driveway, and seeing his ecstatic grin when he makes a great shot.

Connor recovered amazingly well yesterday. He showered and got ready for church, even joking around with us at breakfast. We took his buddy with us when we went out for brunch after church, and they spent the afternoon together. His only other mention of the sad news was last night when Janelle was talking about the class Chris is taking on Monday nights. "I guess Monday's won't be so hard for you now, Mom," not adding "now that I won't have basketball practice". I know how he's hurting inside, but I know he's trying to make the best of it and keep a smile on his face. That's my sweet boy.

Being a parent is HARD!

Two Month Update

The fact that I have not added a blog post in two months is certainly not because I have had nothing to say. It has been an absolutely jam-packed couple of months! For that reason I'm going to give a brief overview, and in future posts I'll elaborate.

First of all, I found out the day before we left for our Florida vacation that I was added to the Thames Valley District School Board Elementary Occassional Teachers List. Hallelujah! So far I have worked two days in a JK/SK class at Connor and Janelle's school. I love it! It is wonderful to be back in the classroom!

The only character Janelle cared about
meeting was Minnie.

On March 9 we embarked on a fabulous, long-awaited, two week vacation to Florida. It is so hard to believe that was nearly two months ago. We had a wonderful time, and I can't wait to do it again, perhaps this time with a little less emphasis on theme parks. Don't misunderstand me — We loved Disney! But that portion of the trip was truly exhausting! We did, however, have few days at the beginning and the end with Chris's father and stepmother in Zephyrhills, and a day off in the middle of our Orlando blitz to spend at the pool and visit with our friends Eric and Charlene Currie and their three awesome kids. It was so great to finally meet the children and hear their amazing stories of adoption from Ethiopia. We had beautiful weather the entire trip, and a perfect place to stay in our rented townhome in Orlando. And Janelle met Minnie Mouse. The perfect vacation!

After the final game.

Five days after we returned home from Florida we were off again, this time to Niagara Falls for the Ontario Basketball Association U12 Finals. Sadly, our boys won only one out of three games, so there were some tears shed on Saturday night, but overall Connor has had a wonderful experience being part of a competitive team for the first time.

Five more days and the van was packed again, this time for a trip to Indiana to spend Easter with Peter, Ellen, Mallory, Julia and Shorey. One of our favourite things about living in Southern Ontario is being so (relatively) close to the Moore family. It is still about a seven hour drive, but it is so much closer than it used to be. We have had a number of great visits with them since we moved here, but we hadn't seen them in nearly a year, so we were anxious to get together for a few days. We arrived late Thursday evening, and Ellen and I shopped on Friday, then went to see The Hunger Games Friday night while Chris, Connor, Peter and Julia went to an Indiana Pacers game and Mallory babysat Janelle and Shorey. Saturday consisted of more shopping, some great food, and some hard fought ping-pong matches. On Sunday we had an Easter egg hunt, went to church, had a wonderful Easter dinner, and hit the road around 3 p.m. We're hoping we won't have to wait nearly as long for another visit with our dear friends.

Connor and Julia at the Pacers Game.

A couple of days after we arrived home from Indy, we celebrated Chris's birthday along with Bliss and Doreen, who arrived that day on their way home from Florida. We had a great visit, including a couple of games of Wizard (I won once! Woohoo!), despite the flu that had struck me down on Easter Monday. They left our house on Friday to head to Kate and Pierre's, and we went to Oakville on Saturday afternoon to share a meal with the rest of the family. I got a prescription for an ear infection that morning, so I was officially on the mend.

The following day we attended our own church for the first time in six weeks, and then joined Connor's basketball team and their families for an end of year party. There was a "parents vs. kids" basketball game (Chris played, I kept score), swimming time, and a potluck dinner. It was a bit sad to say goodbye to such a great team, but there is a chance Connor will be on the same team next year in the U13 division.

Nurnie with Connor and Janelle, Summer 2010.

Early in April I found out that Nurnie, who has been fighting ovarian cancer since just before Christmas, would be having surgery on May 2, which would be my sister's 40th birthday. For those of you who do not know who Nurnie is, she is actually Lillian Constantine, and is a bit like an aunt to me, but really much closer than an aunt. She is my second cousin on my dad's side, and my mother's best friend since they taught together in their early twenties. She has been part of our family for my entire life. I believe her brother, Larry, christened her "Nurnie" as a toddler, and I have never been able to call her anything else. She never married or had her own children, so my sister and brother and I have been her kids, and she has been another grandparent to our children. Living so far away while Nurnie has been fighting this evil disease has been very frustrating. I knew that I wanted to make a trip home on my own at some point, and since Nurnie's surgery date landed on Tracy's birthday, I thought I needed to be there. I flew to Moncton on the evening of April 29, and Mom, Dad and Nurn picked me up at the airport and we all spent the night at Nurnie's. The next day we visited in the morning, Nurn took us all out to lunch, and then Mom and Dad and I headed to Rothesay. We had decided to try to surprise Tracy, but I knew that would be easier said than done. I hid in the bedroom when she arrived that night for her birthday supper, and the biggest surprise to her was that I didn't seem to be there! When I came out and said "Happy Birthday" she told me that she had already made plans for us to see a movie the next night! All in all, it was a great week. I spent time with my family without the distraction of being on "Mom-duty". I had lots of time to just hang out with Mom in my jammies, or to play Wizard with Mom and Dad. And I was there to meet the doctor after Nurnie's surgery, which went very well, although the fight is not over yet. Saturday Mom, Tracy, Jillian, Brad, Jody, Hailey and I went to Moncton again to see how Nurnie was doing, and after a couple of really good days she had had a rough night. I was glad to see her again, but it was hard to leave knowing she had experienced a bit of a setback. Because I was flying out at 7:00 on Sunday morning, I stayed with Larry and Pat at Nurnie's house, and Larry graciously got up in the middle of the night to take me to the airport. I was ready to go home to Chris and the kids, but I am so thankful I was able to make the trip home.

And that brings us to today, which I have spent quite lazily alone in my house. Tomorrow I'll be teaching the same JK/SK class at Connor and Janelle's school, and I have no plans to leave town again before summer. I'm ready for life to slow down and fall into routine. And part of that routine will be adding to my blog. I promise.

New Camera Practice

I got a beautiful new camera for Christmas, which was a total surprise, and I absolutely love it! For the past several years, since I entered the digital age, I've had a great little point-and-shoot Nikon, but recently I've been frustrated by its limitations. Specifically, at Connor's basketball games it's pretty useless unless the gym is very well lit, as well as for anything on a stage (Christmas concerts, school presentations, etc) or extreme close-ups. I thought I needed to get an SLR camera to overcome these problems, and never thought I was ready for the learning curve that would be involved in that. I had no idea that Chris was researching the right next camera for us until I opened it on Christmas morning. He got me a Nikon Coolpix P500, which has an extended zoom, some high speed capability, and a lot more bells and whistles than I've ever had before. I love it! And this past weekend Connor had three basketball games in Windsor, so it was the perfect opportunity for me to practice.

I could write another blog about how much fun it is watching my son play basketball, but I've done that before. This was a pretty full day. We left the house at 7:15 and arrived at the gym two hours later, to find a game already in progress. One of the teams was really dominating the other, and we knew that was the last team our guys would be playing later in the afternoon. That was a bit daunting, but our team took the court with confidence anyway. During our first game the teams traded the lead back and forth the whole time, and in the end, the game went into overtime. Our boys were able to take the lead early in the overtime and won by 5 points. The second game started immediately, playing the team we had seen lose when we arrived. Our team won that one, too, but not by nearly as drastic a margin as the first team had. I was proud of Connor, as always. He concentrated hard on defense, and was able to sink a basket early in the game. We went out to Subway for lunch with most of our team and recharged before our final match up. The boys all knew this was a really hard to beat team, but they went into the game excited anyway.

It was clear from the beginning our guys were not going to win this one. The other team took an early lead and held it. The last half our boys were able to win back some of the ground they had lost, and they were not as soundly beaten as the first team we saw go down, but it wasn't enough. We later found out that this team has been playing together for four years. They have an excellent coach, encouraging and offering constant constructive criticism, and fantastic team spirit. I noticed little things about them that contributed to their team's cohesiveness, like how every member of the team wore one white sock and one black sock, and how at the end they always cheered for both teams, shook hands with the opposing team, and then ran down a high-five line of all their parents. Our team could learn a lot from this one, and I'm glad they had the opportunity to play them.

But this wasn't supposed to be a post about basketball! I guess I just couldn't resist. No, this post wasn't even going to be about words. This post is one about pictures, and I think they tell the story better than I could anyway.

Number 7 is my boy!

Cheering on big brother!

Connor has the ball!

Connor takes a shot!

Love this shot!

Two minutes left in overtime...

This is why I love my new camera! I was sitting all the way across the gym when I took this.
Look at that intense brown eye!

Janelle entertained the other little siblings.

Tip off in the last game. Our team changed into their white jerseys for this one.

Good game, guys!

I LOVE Being a Basketball Mom

Last week I wrote about how I'm thankful that basketball is a part of Connor's life. He loves it, and it is so good for him. Today was the first game day for his team. They played two games in Guelph, one right after the other, so we pretty much devoted our day to driving to Guelph, watching two games and driving home. But you know what? I would not trade today for anything in the world.

I have never claimed to be a sports fan. This is the sixth year that I have driven Connor to practices and games and warmed a bench, usually with a book in my hand. Okay, not during games. During games I usually paid attention to the action, unless of course there was someone to talk to, and then I was often far more involved in my conversation than in the game. I have even declared on occassion (much to my husband's chagrin) that the last couple of minutes are all that really matter anyway.

White number 7 is my boy!

But all that changed today. Today I was riveted! The first game was an easy win. We were ahead from the first minute on, and ended up taking the game 57-12. It was a great way to start, though. The boys' confidence was building throughout, and although Connor wasn't being very aggressive, he was really concentrating on defense, and was getting his hands on the ball some of the time. But it was the last few seconds of that game that took my breath away. My boy caught the ball, looked around, made the decision to shoot, focused on the basket, and sunk a three point shot! Wow! He was so excited! When the buzzer went I could hear other kids on the team congratulating him: "Nice shot, Connor!" "Way to go, Connor". High fives all around. He was so proud! He was still walking on air when the next game began.

It was just the boost Connor needed to get himself in position and sink another basket in his first shift, and another three pointer later in the game. This time the teams were much more evenly matched, and kept within a few points of each other, trading the lead back and forth for the entire game. I was quite literally on the edge of my seat, and so was Chris. So were all the parents. Only Janelle, with her DS and activity books, was blissfully ignorant with her back to the game. In the end, we won by four points, and the boys were pumped! It took quite a while to actually get them off the court and ready to pile into cars and head home. The coach told us before we left that every single player had scored, which is his whole philosophy in coaching. They all took part; they all contributed, they all shared the win. I am a very biased mom, but I think that was the best basketball I've ever seen.

Shortly after we got home, while Chris was preparing supper and I was upstairs hurrying Janelle into the shower, I heard a bounce, bounce, bounce outside on the driveway. I peeked out the window and sure enough, there was Connor shooting baskets in his uniform (shorts and tank — at the end of November), flying high from his victory. Something tells me he'll always remember today.

And I am full of thanks.

Basketball

I'm the opposite of a jock. Talking myself into any kind of exercise is a challenge, and I hardly ever consider it fun. It is for this reason that I am overwhelmingly thankful that my boy loves basketball.

I was on basketball duty tonight. Usually I go inside the gym and stay for just a few minutes before I head off to run errands or wander around the bookstore. Tonight I still wasn't feeling well from a cold I've been fighting all week, so I decided to plant myself on a bench and stay. I brought a book to read, but I decided to watch for a while. This is the sixth year that I've taken Connor to basketball practice, and tonight I realized that he has come a long way since those first years on the court. I guess I should have figured that out when he made the competitive team. He's never been an aggressive player, but he has always been an enthusiastic one. He loves the sport, and he enjoys every minute of it.

It's not the same game that it was when he was playing in the school gym in Marysville, either. This coach works these boys hard, and he expects a lot from them. Connor has to bring in a tally sheet showing he has done 500 shots every week. He also has a fitness routine he has to complete three times each week. Practices are intense, and I am amazed that those boys are still walking at the end of it. On Thursday nights a fitness instructor comes in at the end of their hour and a half practice and does a half hour workout with them. Knowing my somewhat lazy son, I would expect him to be complaining through the workout routine, but I noticed tonight that he does everything asked of him with a smile. And he's good at it! He not only keeps up with the rest of the boys on the team, he excels at these exercises! He is a far cry from his mom, and I am so thankful.

The team will play their first games next weekend in Guelph, and the boys are all excited, and a bit nervous. I'm looking forward to cheering them on, to cheering my boy on in the sport that he loves. What a great experience this is for him, to be part of a team, to have hard work expected of him, to learn to win and lose with grace. Twenty years ago I would never have thought I would add this word to a gratitude list, but tonight my heart is overflowing with it: I am so deeply thankful for basketball.

Superbowl Recovery

We attended our first Superbowl Party as a family last night. It was held at the home a couple from our Community Group. We got the invitation about three weeks ago, and Connor has been talking about it ever since. He was incredibly excited — far more so than I ever would have expected. Football has never been a big fan sport in our household. We're all about basketball — Connor and Chris love to watch an NBA game together, and in March each member of the family enters our March Madness predictions on our own personal set of brackets. Of course, as Canadians, it is our civic duty to be hockey fans, and we do enjoy a good hockey game together now and then. But football — I just don't get it! Chris has to explain it to me every time we watch a game (which is a very rare occurance). Therefore, it amazes me that my son is able to "get it", but he does. Something in the male DNA must allow them to understand incomprehensible sports.

So we went to a Superbowl Party. We took two cars, because I knew Janelle would not survive the whole evening. We had a great time! Lots of food, lots of good conversation. Oh, and there was that game on TV that most of the guys seemed pretty interested in, too. They all seemed pretty happy, because apparently the right team was winning. We stayed for the first half, watched the American commercials on YouTube at halftime, and the last part of the halftime show, and then Janelle and I prepared to head out. I checked with Connor to see if he wanted to come with us, and he looked wiped out. His eyelids were droopy and his cheeks were red, his telltale signs of exhaustion. But he was wearing a big smile, and there was no way he was leaving that game until it was over. So I left him and brought my girl home to tuck her safely into bed, and then head to bed myself. I did watch some of the game, but mostly so I wouldn't miss the beginning of Glee, which was coming on following the game. When Connor arrived home, he was all smiles. Apparently, the right team won, which invariably alters Connor's mood one way or the other. It was 10:45 p.m., and he didn't put up much fuss about going to bed. All was right with the world.

And then it was morning. I discovered last night that Connor had not finished all his homework this weekend, so I woke him at 7:30 to complete a math worksheet before heading to school for 9:00. He was a mess. He was just not emotionally equipped to deal with homework, breakfast, washing up or getting dressed. So I did what any good mother would do — I sent him back to bed. What is the point in sending a physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted child to school? Would he actually learn anthing? Would he be an asset to the class in that state of mind? I don't think so. I took Janelle and our neighbour kids to school and came home to have my breakfast. Connor came downstairs just before 9:00. I suggested he give his homework another try. Tears! Drama! Inability to cope! Back to bed! I told him I would wake him in an hour so I could take him to school in time to pick Janelle up to take her to her dentist appointment. I don't think he ever did sleep, but he certainly spent some significant time curled up in his comfy bed in a dark room. That had to help. When he emerged again just before 10:00 I asked him to try getting cleaned up and dressed before he tackled the homework sheet. This time we were much more successful. I'm never awake in the morning until the water hits my face either!

So my son missed two hours of school, all because he stayed up to watch his first Superbowl. Worth it? I guess that depends on your perspective. Connor certainly thinks it was, despite how wretched he felt this morning. And I would tend to agree with him. I mean, he will remember last night far longer than he would remember anything he may have missed this morning between 9:00 and 11:00 a.m. And don't we all have to experience the crappy "next morning" feeling to understand how valuable a good night's sleep really is?

I may change my mind this afternoon when I experience the late afternoon version of sleep-deprived Connor. But I know we'll all survive. He'll go to bed early, and a babysitter is coming tonight, so I won't be subjected to a long, drawn out bedtime battle. He's always perfect for the sitter! All in all, Superbowl Recovery isn't that traumatic — as long as it only happens once a year!