Wednesday, August 22, 2012

So today ye olde self esteme got a boost. People do like us. Nice people. House league parents like us just fine. I was sitting waiting for hockey camp to end and one of those wonderful people came over to chat with me. I was reminded that not everyone is so awful. She gave me a sympathetic look when I mentioned Dominic was going to play rep hockey. I'm regretting this competitive hockey just a little more now. Thinking about it we've never really dealt with this attitude on Maya's teams (much - year two novice was a little bit like that; it was also the most hyper competitive team she ever played on). Even that one year, I've always been able to find a group of parents on her teams to "bond" with. Maybe we are just too laid back? I just hope Dominic is not on the same team as the awful ignoring mom I mentioned last time. Sigh. I hate cliques especially those made up of adults.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

The Wrong Parents

Sam has the wrong parents. I feel kind of bad for him. We’re just not cool. We’re too old. We’re not popular. We don’t say the right things. It’s not that we don’t play the game; it’s that we’re not even sure what the game is. In the normal scheme of things its not a big deal. It hasn’t really been a hindrance until now. I do wonder how it will affect him now. Doesn’t help that he’s not the right kind of kid either (ADHD Kids seldom are). What am I talking about you ask. Well hockey of course. My blog is rapidly becoming all about hockey.

So on Sunday after the last soccer game of the season Sam’s team assembled at a nearby MacDonald’s for ice cream and a short good bye. While we were standing in line waiting to be served, in walks the popular mother of one of his hockey team mates from last year (truth be told I can’t stand her but I’ve always worked to be pleasant). I was standing behind another of his soccer teammates mother’s. I said hi. She nodded hi and then proceeded to ignore my very existence while she embraced the mother in front of me like they were sisters separated at birth. There were coos and chuckles and discussions about their boys and how they would see each other the next day at hockey. Sure. I pretended to be busy studying the menu. I pretended not to hear their hockey plans.

I know what the hockey plans are though. A bunch of parents with 2004 boys get their boys together every Monday (and have all summer) for pick-up hockey. I’d like to say we weren’t invited to participate but we were – before I’m guessing one of the organizers realized we were the “wrong” people. As I’ve mentioned Sam is a good player. Last year he obtained kind of a cult status on his team. All hail Sam (in truth it was a little annoying). Based on that one of the parents (who was ga-ga over Sam) told us of this casual pick-up hockey thing they were organizing, told us it was hush-hush since they only had room for a certain number of boys and that they would get back to us on the details. I have to admit that I was well aware that Sam was being used here. He was desirable because he was deemed a worthy opponent capable of challenging the other parent’s child. I was willing to ignore that for the opportunity it presented for Sam. When I e-mailed the parent in June (because we had not heard from him) to ask about the details, the coward ignored my e-mails. I wouldn’t have been the wiser except 3 of the boys on his soccer team are participating. I was hurt when we were not included (as was Daniel) but what were we to do.

Related to that – we worked quite diligently to get Sam on a Spring hockey team. Spring hockey is an interesting animal. You have to be good to play. You have to try-out. It’s invitation only. Invitations aren’t based all that solidly in how good you are – especially at the ripe old age of 7! Needless to say not only didn’t we get invited again – not one coward (and there were many) returned our calls or e-mails just asking about the team. A friend of mine who’s son is 12, plays competitive hockey at the PeeWee level and is black mentioned to me that the “minority kids” never get invited to these teams (his son plays on an all minority team started by someone because of this belief). I wonder about racism – seriously – but it’s really hard to know and I always hesitate to blame anything on racism (nevertheless, ignoring the prevalence of racism can do a big number on one’s self-esteem)

We aren’t awful people. We volunteer. We contribute. We don’t complain. Sam can be a challenge but he’s not a discipline issue. He VERY rarely misses a practice. I don’t think he’s ever missed a game. He’s a better than average player so the only conclusion is we’re not the right kind of people. It was one of the reasons we weren’t going to let Sam play competitive hockey. Daniel was of the mind that if we said to hell with them that they would come to regret their decision when Sam become a superstar. I think I was a little more realistic when I pointed out that minus the intense practice his little friends would be engaged in, it was unlikely that that would happen.

I’m a little nervous to see what happens come tryouts. They can’t really exclude him. Those same people who refuse to let us in on all their little secret get-togethers readily admit he’s a shoo-in to make the team. His soccer coach said to me on Sunday “There are certain players you know will have no problems (he then named a bunch of kids). I’ve seen Sam play hockey (his son played with Sam). He’s made the team.” I know he’s not going to be the best player they see but he should factor among the top 10 or so. How much can they handicap him because they don’t like us?

I’m also a little bummed as to why we are so unlikeable. I know I’m not perfect – I talk to much; I’m loud; I’m geeky; I try to be overly helpful but so are others out there. It hurts to realize that people just don’t like you – especially to this extent. I’ve resolved to go to his try-out (where I will know almost ALL the other parents) and sit quietly in the corner and read a book. I hate small talk anyways so it will be a relief not to have to make it with people I know don’t like me. I’ve not volunteered to help with try-outs (first year I’ve sat out). I won’t volunteer to help with his team (also a first). Going to try to not to go where I’m not wanted. [Insert profanity here] them.