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#Poetry. The struggles of a mom with herself, when she feels competitive about her young child learning football, when he is yet to get the hang of it.
Watching my son struggle with the ball
I cringe inwardly, I hate to see him fall
Like every parent, with every ounce of my soul
I want him to succeed every time, score every goal
He is trying hard, that much I can see
To the very best of his somewhat limited ability
He is only five, competition not yet a word
In his vocabulary, he is still guileless in this world
He has not yet succumbed to peer pressure
He can still play a game for sheer pleasure..
When I get disappointed, I have to remind
Myself, this is not about me, I have to find
The right balance between pushing and letting go
Letting him learn to deal with the highs and the lows
I am his cheerleader, the one with the loudest voice
But how he handles a sport is ultimately his choice
I have to be careful never to weigh him down
With my expectations, even if reasonable they sound
He is learning to kick the ball, that’s true
But on the field he is learning life’s lessons too
To fall, and get up, to never lose sight
Of the ultimate goal, to keep up the fight
When he does not play well and I get upset
I set a wrong example, he does not learn to accept
Disappointment, which in life is inevitable
In every walk of life, this rule is applicable
Thus while my son soccer and life’s lessons learns
I learn valuable parenting lessons in turn…
Published here earlier.
Image source: pixabay
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I am a woman, a physician, a mother and an aspiring writer rolled into one. I write about various aspects of my life, and my preferred form of writing is poetry (or rhyming verses). read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
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