I saw it, but I didn't really comprehend it. I had no way of understanding what it was like for them to watch their child during a game.
Our kids have played sports for the past couple of years now and as their level of competition has increased, so has my level of (let's just call it) parental enthusiasm.
Our second son, Ethan had his first soccer game of the season, this past weekend. I've mentioned before that I'm from Ohio and my hometown is just about as into football as you can be. I figured that we would go to his game/match? and cheer him on, but I have NO idea what to root for in the game of soccer.
What I realized though, was that when your "baby" is competing in a game, no matter what it is, you will react to it in your own way. I figured that I, personally, would be the mom that sat in her fold-out chair and watched the kids kick the ball up one way and down the other. Thennnnn, Ethan got the ball. Out of nowhere, I turned into "that" Mom. My brain told me that Ethan needed to run down the field and kick the ball into the net/goal, but my body wanted to go out there and help him do it. I jumped and screamed, "GO ETHAN! RUN, BABY RUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN!!!!!" It was as if Ethan was playing in the Universe Championship game of the entire history of soccer. Maybe it was the excitement of the sidelines, or the energy from the other families cheering for their kids too...I don't know.
At the end of the game I felt exhausted though. It was one of the coolest things to watch him play, but so hard to stay on the sidelines and feel helpless. I finally understood it. When it's your child out there, no matter how old they are, when they're trying to win, (at anything) - every ounce of you wants to go out and help them, but you can't...all you can do is stand there and do whatever it is that gets you through it.
The game was fun. I'll have to admit that it was much more exciting than I ever thought possible. I'm going to have to learn more about the game of soccer though if I want to be able to yell more than just, "Run, Baby, Run!' No matter how old he is though, he is my baby. My heart and love are out on that field with him, wanting to protect and help him with every step.
Ethan is seven...Lord help me when the boy is seventeen...I have a pretty strong feeling, that no matter what any of the kids decide to do though, I will always be, "that" mom...which just might not be a bad thing after all.