Hell Week

What Mom enjoys the daily grind of driving their child/children back and forth from one activity to the next? It is incredible when I look at my teenage sons in the car. One son is 6' 4" and let me just say that he is a whole lot of boy in a compact car such as mine. Can anyone relate? I look at both of my boys as they eagerly wait for me to pick them up from football practice. There is a reason that this week of conditioning is referred to as Hell Week, it is hell on the kids practicing twice a day and it is hell on the parents getting back into the routine of things after a long lazy summer. I think to myself that school starts on Monday, but technically, school has already started. I'm dropping off and picking up children, morning and night. Not to mention when I pull up to the parking lot my son sticks his head in the car and asks if another one or two friends can get a ride home. Ah yes, the joys of parenting! I knew when I was growing up that I wanted to drive a taxi and that is exactly what I do!

So, what are the keys to driving a successful Mom taxi? Well if your kids have friends in the car the best thing to do is keep quiet. I have discovered so much about my kids and the kids they hang out with because I let them talk amongst themselves. If I have a question, I ask but generally keep out of the conversation. It is amazing at some of the things you will learn.

Don't get me wrong, there are literally times when I have to bite my tongue almost to the point of drawing blood because I want to voice an opinion that will not probably go over well. Most of the time I can control my tongue but there have been other times in which I sadly lacked the self control to keep my opinion to myself. Astonishing isn't it?

Yet, today's topic is not really about driving a mom taxi. So you may be wondering what all this babble is about. Well it is about nothing more than the week of hell that my kids go through in order to participate in football. Not to mention the multiple personality that takes over me (more on that in a minute) at football games. I would really never consider myself some great football fan. I don't really have a team that I can claim to be a fan of, yes, I know, I hear those gasps of astonishment. I guess I admire players more than any one team. I have learned a lot by observing my kids at their football games. I have one son that plays offensive and defensive line and my younger son who is just starting high school is playing safety. I'll admit I know nothing about what a safety does but I guess he will be "schooling" me as we quickly approach the date of the first game.

So... back to this week of hell. I deem this an appropriate title. Why? Because my kids are constantly practicing. They practice in the morning, which means they have to be there at 6:30 a.m. and finish at 10:30 a.m. In the evening they are back to practice at 4:30 p.m. and done at 8:30 p.m. They eat, sleep and breathe football. As for me, I eat, sleep and breathe this week of hell. Why? As a parent, I get to experience this hell first hand. Hell Week is hell on my budget, in more than one area. I use up more gas driving kids to and from practice. My refrigerator has suddenly developed a bottomless pit in which I stock it and everything seems to disappear. I'm told it is all part of the process of raising active boys. I don't know if I'm buying that excuse yet or if it is just a conspiracy to get moms to stimulate the economy by shopping for more food. Oh yes, let me not forget the fact that this week of hell is also why my house looks like hell. I mean who has the heart to make the kids pick up after themselves when they are about ready to pass out from exhaustion? Yeah, yeah, I'm reminded that there is a heart that takes up residence in my chest cavity. So you ask how I get through this week of hell. It is just one simple thought that gets me through this time; payback!

Like any proud parent, I can't wait to sit in the stands and root for my kids. It is like I have a multiple personality that takes over. I become this loud, obnoxious, embarrassing parent when, at the end of the game, my kids barely want to recognize as someone they know. Secretly it pleases me to embarrass them because I think back to all those times when they were just past the toddler stage, in a store, and crying for the whole world to hear why they just had to have the candy or toy by the check out counter while other parents looked on. You know what those parents were thinking: why can't that woman control her kids? My kids now look to the stands and I hear those thoughts in their head (yes they've made me psychic); Mom you're embarrassing me! Isn't payback sweet?

As we get a few games into the season the tables have turned. I remember when I would have conversations with my sons about appropriate behavior if we were attending a social event of some kind. Most of the time, those conversations worked or didn't work depending on their mood. As I don the hat for my job as a Mom taxi, my kids shuffle to the car because game day has arrived. I can feel their excitement because they are going to play on the field, but then there is also an air of dread about them as well. My sons then broach the subject of my multiple personality disorder, aka, proud yelling parent, and discuss my inappropriate behavior. They lay down the rules of what they deem is appropriate and of course as I mentioned before, I comply depending on my mood and the excitement of the game. I mean who is just going to stand there when your kid tackles the opposing team's quarterback? I think not! Yes, yes, payback is a sweet thing.