We all have those moments when our kids, our normally fiercely independent kids, cling to us when we try to leave. Corin seems to do this the first day at any new place. I have long been of the camp that you dump them into the arms of the new caregiver and run. It was easier for them because it was quick, the proverbial ripped off bandage. Then the pressure is on the new caregiver to console them and reassure them that it was only temporary. I have always had faith in the caregivers that I've left him with to work with him to get him settled. Having been one of those caregivers with other people's children, I have found it relatively easy to console the kids that were left in that manner. Today didn't work that way.
Apparently soccer players aren't naturally nurturing. They stood and watched as my child cried and ran for me. Instinct was to take away things. "Alright...you don't stay, we don't get your cleats you want so much." I mean, why does he need cleats if he's not at soccer camp? Right, because he'll need them for soccer practice in another month. Oh well, we'll deal with that later. "Ok, you can't have the jerseys, ball, shorts, socks, bag, they gave you. They have to stay here. They're only for campers." Yeah, we paid for them...they're ours. There are no refunds for soccer camp, even if your kid has a melt down and quits the first day. Worse yet, his meltdown is upsetting his sister and she's clinging and crying.
That made me stop. She's empathizing with him and I'm trying to get away. It made me reconsider my tactics. The goal is to get him to stay. To have him be confident. To get him engaged enough to stop.whining. I felt the frustration creeping back.
Wait. Why is he whining? He's scared. He's nervous. He's the youngest one there, and I'm pretty sure he knows it. Everyone's calling him "little guy". That's got to suck for someone on the brink of 4 that wants nothing more than to be a "big kid".
I got down and gave him a big hug. I told him it was scary to be the little one in a new place. I reminded him how much fun he had at yoga camp once he started playing. We talked about how he didn't have to participate in any 'performances' that he didn't want to do. He didn't have to introduce himself to the group in the circle.
Finally, they started kicking the ball around. Goals. He could do those. I told him I would sit on the bench and watch him kick goals. He did. He was smiling, running around, discussing things with the coaches.
I sat through freeze tag. He came over angry because someone tagged him. We talked about how the game is played. We talked about how that let them kick the ball through his legs to unfreeze him. We got through another water break and he went back to the game without stopping by to talk to me.
Now, I ran. Not quickly, but I didn't make a big deal about my leaving. He was engaged and I didn't want to draw attention to the change. I walked to my car. Ryanne screamed at me from across the field, asking what I thought I was doing and I frantically waved hoping she wouldn't get his attention. I got to the top of the hill before the next water break. I saw him notice that I was gone and I hid behind the tree and watched, bracing myself for the frantic meltdown. Instead, he got his water bottle, drank, and then went back to playing. He saw me crossing the street to my car and, again, I braced myself.
Then he smiled and waved goodbye. GOAL!
