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You know what my favorite sound in my house is lately?  The sound of any of my children reading out loud to me.  Yes, I am finally the mother of readers!

My heart does flips at the sound of my kids saying, “Mommy, can I have a turn to read to you?”

I love reading.  I would say that reading a good book is one of my greatest pleasures.  I know that growing up in a household where, more often than not, the adults gathered in the living room to sit by lamps and read in the evenings, while the TV sat turned off and alone on the other side of the house, played a huge part in my own love of reading for pleasure.

So I buy them books through all the scholastic book drives and warehouse sales and have read to them since they were old enough to sit up.  I try to let my kids see me reading for fun.  I try to let them see me choosing books over TV.  I even recently read them their first chapter book; The Borrowers (20 chapters, one per night) to teach them that they do not need pictures to enjoy a book.

And now, just yesterday, they are starting to venture away from the HOP books and the BOB books and try to read some of the books in the extensive children’s book library I have grown for them over the years... anticipating this day when they will view it as a treasure trove, just as I do.

Well not quite yet. And maybe never. But I am quietly bursting with happiness that my son participated in soccer clinic today - from beginning to end.  Yippee!

Quietly, because I am trying not to make a big deal about it.  So when he came home with TripletDad, I just said, “Hey, welcome back.  Where’s my hug?” and then stepped back and let him tell me about it if he wanted.  He actually wanted TripletDad to tell me about it while he ran off to play with his sisters.

But I am so happy he is trying! This is the first real trying he has done with anything we have offered to him. He is so strong willed.  Teaching him to accept guidance without being overbearing (a mistake we have made in the past) is hard. Accepting that he might not have the same objectives we set for him (common parent pitfall through the ages, I know) is also hard.  But we are trying.

Trying together is all I can ask.

Trying is what he did today.  And I am so happy!

This week he started a soccer clinic.  This is our latest attempt with him at an introduction to sports.   We have tried the low-key, backyard approach – he was skeptical.  We tried the approach of a week-long summer camp where every day is an intro to a different sport – he refused to participate at all (He stood on the side line, except the first day when he took off across the field and down the street).  We gave it a year about not talking about sports, just playing with balls and Frisbees and kites at the park, and watching some sports on TV.   Then, recently, we took him to his friend’s soccer practice to watch other kids having fun doing it.  He admitted it looked fun, but was still resistant to trying it himself.

Meanwhile, his sisters have tried Ballet and art class and are ready to try anything I suggest.  I feel bad signing them up for stuff while my son holds back and refuses to even try.  I have tried to sit back and tell myself that I won’t push him and eventually he will come to me with a request to do something too.  But I am at war in my head with this thinking.  I think how will he know what he likes if he has never been exposed to it? Isn’t it my job as a mom to at least expose him to a wide range of experiences so he can have a basis for decision-making about his likes and dislikes?  What is the balance between pushing your child and helping them stretch to realize their abilities?

I look around at all the kids in Soccer and T-ball and wonder if he would have fun doing those if he could just get over himself and try it.  I wonder how much pushing is too much of me wanting him to do it and him resisting out of hand just because it is unfamiliar.  Also, there are my friends saying, “I never asked my kids what they want to do, I just sign them up and send them.”  I guess they have never had to deal with a child escaping from a sports camp at a full-blown gallop.

So, I took the approach of signing him up for a 6 week, once-a-week, soccer clinic for beginners in his age group.  This way, it is more than one day of one sport (how can you tell if you like a sport after just one day, right?) but it is not as intense as a three-times-a-week soccer team with the pressure of games.

TripletDad and I approached this decision with resolve and trepidation.  We planned our strategy;
1) We prepped him by talking about the kids in his class who play sports.  We told him if so many children play sports, there may be something fun about it.
2) We only talk about the clinic positively and with the firm inclination that this was not a choice but an opportunity for him to try something. (as in; “when you go to the soccer class, you get to wear the new shin guards you picked out”).
3) We decided TripletDad would take him; my son has too many issues with mommy-clinginess.
4) We told him that just like when we have him try at least one bite of the food on his plate before he can say whether he likes it, he needs to try sports before he can say he won’t like to play them.

So, yesterday, the big day came.  I helped him put on his shin-guards and TripletDad loaded him in the truck.  It was comical the way TripletDad was calling me about every 10 minutes with updates but I appreciated every one of them:
“We are here early to get used to being here, I think I see the coach, we will go talk to him”
“The class has started, our son is just standing on the side, away from the group of kids and coach, but at least he is on the field and not running away”
“They are playing a game and the coach is asking our son again if he wants to join in.  I’ve moved behind a tree so he can’t see me”
“A little girl just ran off the field and sat down by her mommy crying, at least our son is not the worst case.”
“The coach ran by and purposefully-by-accident kicked a ball out of bounds right by our son, then asked him to get it for him...and he did!  He kicked a ball!”
“He is playing soccer-freeze-tag with the kids and the ball and the coach.  Our son is participating!”

So, as promised, TripletDad took him for candy afterward and told him there were 5 more days of trying soccer.  We did not ask if he liked it or had fun.  We had told him that we would ask him that after the last trial day.  We told him that if he really tried during the 6 class days then he could say at the end whether he would like to play soccer some more or not.

All in all, I am calling Day 1 of ‘soccer class’ a success.  The point is not to get our son to play sports. The point is to get him to a place emotionally where he can feel able to try something with the result of being able to make an informed decision about continuing, or trying something else.  Maybe he will not like to play any sports.  Maybe he will be into debate team, or theater or art or the school newspaper or chess club or Leadership or whatever.  The point is that the possibilities are endless - unless you never try.