"I'm sorry kiddo. I promise to do better."

“I’m sorry kiddo. I promise to do better.”

My husband would tell you I am generally very patient, at least when it comes to our kids. But every so often, like many moms before me, I screw up. Not the minor “I forgot to pick my kid up from school” or “I accidentally ate your Halloween candy” error. (Which, if I’m being honest, I don’t ever accidentally eat their candy. It is 100% on purpose.) No, I mess up big time. I make the kind of mistake that keeps me up at night, wondering if I have overstepped a line that will unravel the trust I have worked so hard to build.

We have three kids. Our oldest (Elliott) is a boy who turned 13 last August. He is everything a parent wishes for in a budding teenager: smart, honest, dedicated, funny and hard working. He stays out of trouble and makes good choices. Twice a week, we take him to school early at his request so he can participate in Christian centered organizations. Elliott makes friends easily because he is easy to get along with. He is a straight A student taking advanced placement classes in middle school, and all around more gifted than either his father or I ever were.

In addition to his academic talents, Elliott has always been athletic. He started playing soccer at 6 years old and eventually branched into both basketball and baseball. It was fun for a while, but neither of those sports brought him the same joy as soccer. He loves the speed and intensity of the game, and he is good at it. Elliott is fast, agile, and physically intimidating in a way that benefits him on the pitch. Plus, at only 13 years old and 5’8”, he is still growing. With a dad who is 6’4” and a mom who is 5’10”, the odds are in his favor to clock in well above average height.

About a year ago, Elliott told us that he wanted to see how far he could take soccer, possibly playing in college one day.

‘Okay’, I thought, as my internal dialogue exploded. ‘What do we do now? Where should he play next season? Will he get the training he needs on his current team? He loves the kids and we love the parents, but is it the right fit for him going forward? There are dozens of soccer clubs around the city but which ones should we explore? Ugh. We can’t mess this up. He has one year before high school and we need to put him in the best possible position for success.’

You get the gist. My brain was on overdrive and it was overwhelming.

Neither his dad nor I know enough to train him in what little free time we have, so we started by hiring a personal trainer to work with Elliott in the off season. We took him to soccer camps over the summer. He put in the time and effort, and as a result he improved in his game by orders of magnitude. So much so that by the time fall soccer started, his new coach asked Elliott to dual roster on a travel team in addition to the local team he made last spring. Elliott was ecstatic. All that hard work was paying off and people were paying attention. His physical growth didn’t go unnoticed, either.

Fast forward two months - Elliott is playing for two teams and getting lots of touches both on and off the pitch. He likes his coaches and teammates, but his teams are struggling, partly due to lack of team tenure and partly due to talented competition. Some games are closer than others, but they had all ended the same way: a loss. Yet, he seems to mostly be enjoying himself as he makes new friends and continues improving.

Most of the time, I’m his biggest cheerleader - the one on the sidelines reminding him of how capable he is. But sometimes, I lose sight of what is important: above all else, this is supposed to be fun. As soon as soccer begins to feel like a chore or an obligation, the joy is gone. I know in my mind that he isn’t going to perform well every game, but my heart sinks when he struggles because I also know there are no ‘gimmies’ at this level. Ultimately, that is my problem to manage, not his, and sometimes I fail miserably.

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In mid-September, his team lost a close game and he struggled. After the game, I said some harsh words. Ones that I wish I could take back. The mildest of commentary was some combination of ‘You can’t play like you are afraid of getting hurt’ and ‘Why were you getting beat in every 1 v 1?’ Suffice to say I later realized I did what I swore I would never do: let his play on the field affect how I treated him off the field. I have no idea how far he will take soccer. Maybe he will play college. Maybe he won’t. Maybe he will decide in a year that he wants to do something else. His interests will come and go, but he will remember these moments.

That night I found myself doing some serious soul searching, trying to figure out how to moderate my own emotions and make sure my apology resonated more than the words I spoke earlier in the day.

“Elliott, I need to talk to you. Let’s take a car ride.”

“Okay, but have you cooled down?” he asked me, insightfully.

I chuckled. “Yes, but I need to say something to you.” I cleared my throat. “You know that I want you to be as successful with soccer as you want to be, but I forget that you are still a growing kid. I love you more than anything in this whole world and I need to control my emotions. I’m sorry kiddo. I promise to do better next time.”

Elliott wasn’t mad at me, but that wasn’t the point. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity for us to bond because he felt alienated by something I said. I had to do damage control...and most importantly, apologize. We talked a little bit more and ended the day in a good place. I hugged him. A lot. His team played the next day. They lost but he played tough, and I did better, too. We finished the weekend watching a movie together as a family, something we hadn’t done in a very long time. It was lovely.

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A couple of weeks later, in early October, Elliott had the opportunity to play with the travel team in an out of town tournament. The team performed really well, and so did Elliott. In fact, they made it to the championship game on Sunday afternoon. (It was quite the turn about from previous matchups.) Before the game, Elliott was restless.

"I'm excited, but I'm also nervous. I want to play well."

I paused, took a deep breath, and said "You will. You will do great. Remember, you win as a team and lose as a team. There are 11 kids on that field. Everyone has a role in the outcome."

It was a good game, but they lost...respectably: 1-0. The kids played hard, including Elliott. After the game we celebrated the 2nd place finish and Elliott beamed with pride the whole ride home.

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Words matter. Especially the words a parent says to a child. I will probably still feel like I'm making amends long after Elliott has forgotten what I said, but I'm OK with that if it means he knows unequivocally how much I love him.