Cruel and Unusual Mother

I'm really not sure why I'm admitting this, but, apparently, I am a cruel and unusual mother--at least according to Mark. Normally, I'm the apple of his eye and the "favorite parent," but not tonight. Tonight is Mark's first basketball practice of the season, and Mark and I had a wrestling match of wits before it started.

Those who are familiar with Mark's antics can understand why I will NEVER, NEVER, EVER again sign Mark up for a sport he doesn't want to participate in. I learned that lesson the hard way--the very hard way. It was the spring of 2005 . . . I really want to forget it, but the memory rears its ugly head every year during baseball season, and I am so grateful that Mark isn't "doing" baseball. I could write pages about that fateful baseball season of 2005; but, suffice it to say, it was awful. Awful for Mark. More awful for the coach. Most awful for me. After we barely survived that season, I marched down to the Lake Washington Youth Soccer Association office and "dropped" Mark from participating in fall soccer. When school started, Mark BEGGED to play basketball. I resisted. He persisted. I made him take an oath and write his name in blood (not literally, okay?) that he would enjoy basketball and would participate and behave. He was mostly true to his word and actually liked basketball. Last year, he asked me to sign him up for basketball again. I did. The season was even better than the previous one. We were on a roll--or so I thought.

Again, this fall, Mark asked to play basketball. After questioning his commitment (which I have learned to do) and being reassured that that is what he wanted to do, I paid the $65 (or some similar amount) and enrolled him in basketball again. His new coach called last week and told us that the practices would be every Monday night at 7:00. Of course, I told Mark about this, and everything seemed copacetic. "Seemed" is the operative word here.

Tonight at dinner I announced that Mark needed to finish his favorite lemon roast chicken and then get ready for basketball practice. Watching his reaction, you would have thought I had told him we were going to get all of his hair plucked out strand by strand and then have him run naked through the streets of Redmond. According to Mark, I had never obtained his permission to sign him up for basketball again and he wasn't going to play. Deja vu all over again. Well, I know what is important to Mark because he has been "punished" with this form of punishment before, but I told him, "That's fine. I'll take you out of basketball. But, I will take the XBOX 360 away until basketball season is over, AND you will have to pay me the $65 basketball enrollment fee." Here's where he used the word "cruel" to describe me. Maybe I am cruel, but I'm so weary of this little game he persists in playing.

After many tears and protests, he went to basketball practice--under duress, of course. His father accompanied him and is currently sitting there watching every move he makes. I suspect (and, of course, hope) that this will all blow over and that he will come to his senses and calm down. He usually does in these types of situations, unless we reminisce about that awful baseball season of 2005. I'll keep you posted (pun intended).