Growing Up

When my son started playing hockey. I knew that it was not going to be easy. I saw the passion when he started bringing books home from the library. I knew that there was something there as I watched him walk effortlessly in the ice skates, even the first time. When he said he wanted to be a goalie is when the fear started to set in.

My son said he wanted to play the hardest  position on the ice. He wants people to hit pucks at his head. He wants to wear all that gear and be responsible for getting scored on.  He's done enough research, he knows what he's getting into. and after two weeks of dressing as goalie, he loves it more than ever.

Yesterday his coach stopped me as I went to gather his equipment and said, "He's a natural."
The moms were telling me how great he was doing, everyone was so proud of him. As I watched one child push him over, try to take over his net, and hit him with his stick, I worried for him. Every Time I saw a puck get past him, I worried for him.  I wanted to cheer for him every time he made a save, but I'm trying to practice "heads-up" hockey parenting, I don't want another parent to feel bad his kid doesn't make a goal.

I have been filled with emotion since practice ended yesterday.  For the second time in the last six months, I have heard that one of my children has made an amazing impact on a coach. What makes it harder for me, is that they both made the decisions on their own.

They're both growing up, becoming independent. I take it I must be doing a good job raising them to know themselves and listen to their subconscious as to what they want. To see my son, learning and studying the game of hockey, and watch my daughter hit a tennis ball as if it where a shuttlecock, I am awed at their skill. I am proud of their talent, and hard work to continue to stay on top of their respective games.

My turn to do my homework.