Dear Mom and Dad,
I have to say this. I need to get this off of my adorable, little, precious youngest child chest. Because if I don’t, I just may LOSE MY MIND (My ever-loving mind as you would say, Mom)!
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS THAT ARE GOOD IN THE WORLD….. LET ME STAY HOME AND PLAY!!!!!!!!
I know that I have expressed my feelings before, but they were in the heat of the moment, and as you know, that rarely ends well. There were tears and yelling, and possibly some all-out temper tantrums on both of our parts.
I figured now is the best time to have this discussion, in-between seasons, and before I find myself in a heap of tears on the floor of the minivan en route to another double-header, little league, tournament/game/practice for my brothers.
Because, I can not do it.
Can. Not. Do. It.
Not for one more minute.
Please don’t think it’s because I don’t love my brothers. I do. I am just not nearly as impressed with their athletic prowess and learning curve as you are. I’ve got better things to do with my time than to watch them improve on their athletic skills.
I want to play.
As you know, I started school this year. In addition to learning my sight words and numbers to 100, my teacher introduced me to another concept that had eluded me until now: Time.
You see, we start everyday with Calendar. There we learn the days of the week, the weather, the month, and most importantly, how many days we’ve gone to school and how many days we have until summer.
And so now I know: My childhood is ticking by, and everyday I go to school I am reminded of this. Every. Single. Day.
And I tick another day off. And another. And another.
Until someday, I’ll be grown like you, and this childhood…..gone.
And you know what else? There’s no going back! Nope. We just keep adding days. We don’t ever get them back. Once it’s over, it’s over.
And that is when the anxiety over losing my childhood in a gymnasium or on a sideline begins to rear itself, resulting in the most epic of battles between parent and child this world has ever seen.
I completely understand that we are family. That we do things together and support one another. We cheer each other on. Because that is what families do.
But I don’t think that I should suffer because my brother likes playing basketball, and he has a tournament, and it’s 70 degrees outside and his games are at 1:00 and 4:00, resulting in nearly six hours of my life being wasted away in a gym.
Remember, I get this concept of time now. Gone are the days I count my life in terms of how many “sleeps” I get. I can feel my life zipping by. And when you’re six years old, and you realize how precious this life is, and how fleeting childhood is, you start to throw an all out hissy fit when your day is spent at your brother’s youth sporting events.
Because here’s the reality: They aren’t coming to my stuff. They’ll be too busy with their own activities.
So. let me play.
My days of being carefree and young are numbered (I count them everyday!).
So, if you really care about me, and my fleeting childhood, please grab a sitter or drop me off at a friend’s house, and let me play.
on behalf of all younger children everywhere.