One of my Twitter followers took offense at yesterday's post, where I stated that I kid my sister by calling her Sacramento-area community a "hick town." Never mind the fact that in the next breath, I mention how upscale that community has become over the years, or that I negate anything close to an outrageous statement by saying that it was "tongue in cheek"... I still managed to piss someone off.
I'm doing that a lot lately. Monday's post upset the press agent who pitched me some information about holiday gift ideas. I kind of deserved that one, because her pitch set me off on a rant that had little to do with her (the thing she pitched was actually pretty cool). I ended up changing the post, which didn't feel good either - especially since the woman did not indicate that she understood that I didn't HAVE to change it or show her product in a positive light and that I don't OWE HER ANYTHING just because she emails me with product information... and that her pitches aren't copyrighted and if I choose to reprint them verbatim, that's my prerogative -- and a risk she's going to have to take if she's going to pitch to bloggers.
I am not someone who enjoys fighting with others. I hate confrontation. I just want all of us to be happy.
But I guess I'm feeling cranky today, because I can't help myself. No matter what I do, I'm the bad guy. The loser. And I'm tired of it.
For a few brief weeks, I felt like everything was coming together. Sure, we are worried about the economy (and who isn't?) -- but as long as I don't listen to the news or look at our broker's statements, I can pretend that everything is fine.
And after adjusting to the long drive to Megan's new gym, I felt like we'd found some equilibrium. Everything was working. There were no head games at this gym and my daughter seemed to have the homework monster under control -- even algebra. I dropped my quest to try to get the District to budge on the PE requirement, because she was thriving -- even without benefit of a study hall.
We sailed through competition season and my daughter and her two friends were promoted to the next level. They began working on new, more complicated routines that are all their own (unlike the lower "compulsory" levels, where everyone's routine is the same). The "optional" gymnasts have a different season -- competing from January through the Spring (instead of the Fall, which is the season for the compulsory gymnasts).
The coaches decided that Megan and her friends would sit out the optional season that starts in January 2009 -- giving them an entire year to work on their new routines (the one exception will be a February meet in Las Vegas that the entire gym participates in -- which will be more of a fun excursion than something that will put pressure on them). During this period, they will be training skills that run the gamut from levels 7 though 10. The coaches have proffered the idea that when the girls do embark on real competition in 2010, they might skip level 7 and go straight to 8 or 9.
All good stuff, right?
When we moved to the new gym, I said this:
"The new gym won't be perfect. I won't agree with everything her new coaches do. I won't get along with all the parents.
I know that the less-than-ideal situations I complain about now will likely be replaced by new ones."
That day came last month. The coaches held a parents meeting to announce that beginning on December 1, workouts were going to shift by an hour. Instead of training from 4:00 to 8:00, the girls were expected to go from 5:00 to 9:00.
The reason we were given was that the gym has grown more than anyone anticipated: the girls team doubled in size from when we started in August -- and the cheerleading program is also thriving. Competition for resources has become fierce. One of Megan's coaches nearly got into a fistfight with the cheerleading coach because the cheerleaders were hogging the floor.
This was the day before our state competition, and the gymnasts hadn't had use of the floor for their routines ALL WEEK. The cheerleading coach refused to let them on, because his girls "have a competition in January." Our coach told them our girls "have State TOMORROW." The gym's owner had to intervene in the end, allowing our girls to work on their routines.
So I can see that there is a problem, and that giving the girls an hour after the cheerleaders have all left is a solution to the problem.
But the solution poses a different problem to those of us who are commuting from Santa Clarita and the San Fernando Valley. The 4-8 training schedule has been difficult enough. Our girls are rushed to gym straight from school. They snack on the way, in the car -- and then eat dinner in the car on the way back. They don't get home until 9:00, and then they are up at 5:00 AM to do their homework.
My daughter is an amazing child. She works hard, she gets good grades, she respects authority. She's a good friend with a warm heart and a goofy sense of humor.
I worry about her. I worry that she's balancing more responsibilities than I ever had at her age and that the balance is delicate. I don't want to tip things over in a way that puts even more pressure on her. I don't want her burning out before high school.
And she didn't want to make the change. "Nine o'clock is too late," she told me. "Do we have to do it?"
We let the coaches know of our issues. The gym owner said he thought they would be able to accommodate our three girls so their training wouldn't suffer. We felt assured.
We thought our girls would be allowed to warm up for an hour at 4:00 and then join the other optional girls when they rolled in for their training at 5:00. The gym owner said he thought that would work.
But the coaches are the ones who make that determination, and when December 1 rolled around, we discovered they weren't willing to break up the groups that way. Our girls were relegated to working with the Level 4 girls (the only ones still training from 4:00 to 8:00). They were still able to work on their new skills, but not with the coaches we'd switched gyms to work with.
"This is only the first week," I reminded the other two moms in our carpool. "Let's see how it plays out." I was certain that we could not be the only parents who had a problem with such a late workout.
I was wrong.
No one else protested. Even the parents of girls who are much younger than ours went along with the time change.
In the meantime, communicating with the coaches was proving difficult. Since we were leaving at 8:00 and they were still on the floor until 9:00, we couldn't grab them to chat at the end of our workout. They weren't returning our texts, calls or emails. We were operating in a vacuum, and in the absence of communication, our little problem was turning into high drama.
Eventually, one of the moms talked with the head coach. The bottom line: If we come in at 4:00, our girls will NEVER work with the other optionals or be with the upper level coaches because they will not split the groups the way we want.
Megan came home from Wednesday night's training with a fever, and she missed her training on Thursday, Friday and Monday night. During that time, the other two girls in our carpool rejoined the optional girls at 5:00. Their moms aren't exactly happy with it, but in the end, they felt they had no choice.
"I don't want to be the only one training with the level 4's," Megan said.
So there you have it. I have no choice, either.
We're rushing to the gym right after school as we've been doing all semester -- but we're bringing all the girls' schoolbooks. Megan and her friends will get a start on their homework for one hour at the gym. Hopefully, that will allow them to sleep in until 6:00 (instead of 5:00) to finish it up before school. Hopefully, they will get to sleep easily when we get them home at 10:00.
I feel angry and depressed. I know I could make my daughter's life easy in a second (and fix our budget problems) by dropping gym -- but what would that teach her? That when times get tough you quit? That there's no point in pursuing your dreams?
It made me happy to see her get her joy back in this sport. It is something she loves and something she's good at. I want her to go as far as she can for as long as she loves it. And even though I'm upset with what I see as an arbitrary decision by her coaches, I like them all very much and love seeing her thrive by working with them.
But I also feel ineffective in my quest to support my daughter. No matter what I try -- asking to get PE waived, asking to allow her to continue a schedule that works for her -- I get shot down. And blamed for not succeeding.
So that's why I'm cranky. And if I offend anyone else today, I guess I'm just going to have to live with it.
Recent Comments