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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.
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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...
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