Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Someday we will look back at this and laugh, right? PLEASE SAY WE WILL LAUGH!!!!

go 'C' team go!
I am frustrated.
I am mad.
I am sad.

This blog post serves two purposes:  1. venting and 2. historical documentation so we can look back and laugh about the fact that we all got so dang upset about STOOPID 8th grade volleyball.

Jena tried out for her middle school 8th grade vball team.
There were 72 girls trying out and only 18 total spots for the 'A' and 'B' teams.
She didn't make the 'A' or the 'B' team.
Instead, her and 54 of her closest (not) friends have been sent to the hell known as the 'C' team.

Now let me clarify - I am not being one of  THOSE moms.
I do not think our kids are perfect.
As a matter fact, I have been told I am sometimes too hard on them.

And for further clarification, this ain't our first C team rodeo - more like our 4th or 5th.

What is frustrating is that we have killed ourselves to live in this area and now our kids are being screwed because of it.

When our kids leave our cute sweet little elementary, they get thrown into the masses at the big middle school.
Part of the masses include some of Austin's most fortunate students.

Sadly, being mixed in with the kids that have been afforded every opportunity that money can buy makes it very difficult for the normal kids to catch a break.

And as much as it should make the wounds heal faster - hearing that 'if you went to a different school, you'd prolly make the team' doesn't make it feel better.  Actually, in some ways it makes it hurt a little bit more.

I have been okay the last 3 years that our girls experienced this ridiculous middle school rejection - but this year I did not handle myself so well.
I became THAT mom.
Like any klassy mom would do, I called the coach before my kid had even gotten off the school bus.

The conversation didn't go well.  Who am I kidding - i guess I knew it wouldn't.
But WTF?  Really?  Rejection again!?!?!
Just give a girl a break.

When I was in junior high, it was a time to try all things - and everyone was encouraged to go out for as many things possible.
Even the most untalented students could find a place on the court, field or pool.  I am proof.

So when my kid that has worked so hard is rejected, it makes me angry.
When my kid that is someplace between average and skilled is turned away because she is on the bubble, I am angry.

Does she have a bad attitude?
Did she not work with the teammates?
Was she unprepared or tardy for tryouts?

Maybe you could have said yes to one of those questions so i could have less of a reason to be angry.

Do you know what the 54 person 'C' team gets????
A couple of games that their parents get to drive them to - no bus - and that the kids may or may not actually get court time.
One practice day a week.
Sorry ladies - I know you are in athletics 4 days a week for volleyball, but the girls that made the team need the court - so you can go run the track.  In 106 degree heat. For the whole athletic period, because that doesn't feel like a slap in the face, right?

Day 3 of my girl coming home crying and I am pissed.
I want to let her quit.
Fuck 8th grade athletics.
But the voice of reason that has been on my shoulder and in my ear for the past 25 years keeps reminding me that we have to stay the course.
Parenting is hard.
We can't let her give up.
That would be allowing the system to win.

But she is MY baby and I want to fight.

For the record - I actually do like the coaches.
They are just doing their job.
And quite frankly, I would rather eat pig vomit than do that job.
Junior high kids + upset rich parents might cause me to do illegal things.
I suppose they might have laughed after they hung up from my call the other day.
Cause really, what am I gonna do?
Make some angry cookies?
Or worse yet - write an angry blog post?!?!?!

Each of those coaches are saints and I trust that they know that my beef isn't with them - but with the system.
And with the fact that I get to clean up the mess.

And maybe we will sell one of our other kids so that Jena can get some club vball experience and make the team in high school.
And when she does, I am gonna give her permission to wear her middle school tshirt with a giant middle finger salute.
For me and for all of the other regular girls that have shed tears over this stoopid team.

You might be wondering how I really feel.

P.S.  Did I mention that she went to vball camp the week before tryouts?  And she had to pay for part with her own money.  Ouch.  The life lessons just keep on coming, huh?

Oh and I can't forget the part about me encouraging her and telling her to never give up and to stay positive.  Hard work pays off.  Keep practicing, maybe you will get to move up.  Lie to kid much?
Mother of the year right here.

And no, we didn't encourage her to be team manager.
We told her it could be her choice.
She has had enough salt in the wound for one kid.
You might remember this.

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