Big 'D's game, my heart, and heavenly intervention

I said I'd talk about child #2's game. Here it goes!

After the 5k, we all went, as a family, to watch #4's game. That consisted of Matt and me watching whilst the remainding 6 played in an empty soccer field near by. Quite the support group. Anyways!

As soon as her game was over, however, Matt had to book it with #2 for his game, which was about 45 mins away. He also took another child but I can't remember which. Like for reals, I totally can't remember. Maybe it was #4 and #6? Anyways, not important.

They leave and I take the rest of the crew to their perspective games. End of the day we go home and see that Matt had just gotten home from his soccer festivities. I pulled up and, because my group had great games, cheerfully asked, "Well, how'd his game go??"

Matt looked at me, face full of disappointment and in a very monotone voice said, "the team lost, and your son got a red card."

I play soccer. Played in high school and all through college (intramural, not for BYU.) A yellow card in my opinion is fine. It simply means you're super aggressive, maybe a bit more than you needed to be. A red card means you suck. You suck because the way you played told the entire crowd that you don't have the skills to play sillfully, so instead you play dangersously. You made an ugly foul. You basically suck. When I see players get red cards, I get sorta embarrassed for them.

And my son got one.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You'll need to talk to him."

I was furious.

"No, really, I need to know what happened!"

"He shoved a kid and then yelled at the ref."

I have this alter ego. It's called Sally. Don't mess with Sally because Sally is the devil and will kick the butt of anyone who needs their butt kicked. Don't mess with Sally because Sally's a 'B' and she don't care. And child #2 was fixen to chat with Sally.

I stormed into the house. So many thoughts crossed my mind. I was staring failure in the face. To have a child act like that on a soccer field infront of his amazing coaches, his wonderful team and his dedicated father at the ripe old age of 10 meant I had unknowingly created a monster and not much I really could do about it. I also wondered, had we actually had too many kids? Did his potential for such ugly behavior go undetected because I was too busy caring for younger children? I also wondered, "what EFFECTIVE punishment could I give him?" Yelling at him? No, because that's what he did to the ref. Spanking him? No, because he had been physical with another player and by being physical with him, I'd only encourage the behavior. I also tried gauging my anger. I was SOOO ANGRY, but I wanted to be sure I was angry for the right reason. Was I this angry because of pride? MY failure, MY embarrassment at being the mother of such a poorly behaved child. I wanted to be sure I was angry for the right reason. (Is that even such a thing? Anger for the right reason?)

So may thoughts in just the 3 seconds it took me to clear the front yard and enter the house. As I entered the house I said a feeble prayer. "Heavenly Father, help me do the right thing."

Expecting to find him sulking in his room, I was SHOCKED BEYOND BELIEF to see him laying on the couch, watching TV. My anger was beyond clear thinking.

"How'd the game go?" I asked cooly.

Looking up, he said, "the team lost."

"How'd you do?" I asked, almost without breathing.

And with this attitudy smirk, he said, "I got a red card.

He was proud of that? I was mentally REELING!!!

How'd you get a red card?

I pushed a kid and then yelled at the ref.

Why'd you push the kid?

He was pushing me! (Still eyeing me with that same smirk.)

And why did you yell at the ref?

Cuz he was a jerk!

And then my blood started to jump from hot, straight into steam.

And you decided to be a jerk right back?

My anger was at a level it hasn't been to in such a long time, that I, at that moment, used every ounce of energy to restrain myself. The words I wanted to use at a volume I needed them to be used at was not good.

And then my child looked at me and said, "Really we tied and I scored 2 goals!"

Have you ever seen a sail boat out in the ocean with no wind. Just sitting there. All quiet and unresponsive. Lost. Useless. Maybe even it's empty? That was me. I couldn't properly process what he just said. Matt had followed me into the house and starts laughing. And then can't stop talking.

"He played the best game of his life! Passing, hustling, stealing the ball, and his goals were amazing! He could've had 3, but his first shot just barely hit the cross bar and deflected! They tied 3-3 against the hardest team of the league!"

I don't think I'll ever forget that Saturday. And I don't think I'll ever forget the small answer I had to my prayer as I marched into the house. Heavenly Father told me, because He know how mad I was, "just talk to him." I'm so grateful I didn't just march in and blow up. I'm so grateful that I had the brains to listen to that prompting.

How people raise children without prayer, it blows my mind. I am so grateful for prayer, guidance and ANSWERS! And I'm so grateful for my great kids. He came home last night, on a high! "Mom! I won the juggling contest!" as he showed me his Sweet Frog gift card. (Coach has a juggling contest with the team. He who juggles the most gets a Sweet Frog gift card.) We took the family out for a Sweet Frog celebration that night.

I really do have great kids. Obviously with a sick sense of humor. That maybe got passed down by their dad? I know I'm not out of the forest when it comes to raising my kids. Failure is bound to happen. I just hope and pray that as as I go about my journey of being a mother, that I do continue to hope and pray for Heavenly Father's help and my listening to it!