Tiger Mom on a Down Day

Every since my post about the Diva's Up Day, I have been somewhat frightened for the other shoe to drop.

Well, today it dropped.

When I came downstairs this morning, I was greeted by a somewhat disheveled Diva. She was wearing a purple sports bra, which generally isn't a bad thing except today she was wearing it underneath a white t-shirt. She was also wearing a pair of blue jeans that were several sizes too big...because they were a pair of MY blue jeans! Of course, she didn't notice - or care - but she obediently trudged back upstairs for a wardrobe change.

These types of things don't both normal people. They certainly don't bother Husband. But they bug the hell out of me. Why? First, because I'm a Tiger Mom. I haven't read Amy Chua's book "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother" yet, but I read a review somewhere, and I still remember the moment I learned that my crazy, perfectionist parenting style had a name. According to Wikipedia, a "Tiger Mother" is a mother who is a strict disciplinarian, who adheres to traditional, strict child-rearing versus a more indulging, self-esteem-focused approach. In my case, take a crazy, perfectionist parent and add some obsessive compulsive tendencies - viola! You have a Tiger Mom on crack.

I tried to prepare myself that the Diva was having a Down day, so her soccer game would likely suffer a bit. But her lackluster kicks and lazy jogging was too much for her Tiger mom to handle, down day or not.

"DIVA, YOU GET GOING OUT THERE!" I heard myself yell. During warm-ups. A startled Diva added a little bit of effort for about thirty seconds, then reverted back to her amoeba movements. She looked lost. She was one of the captains in coin toss - how cool is that? - but she wasn't into it. After the coin toss, she sat way down on the end of the bench, away from her teammates. I hissed at Husband to tell her to sit with the rest of the team (my own Jed Rubenfeld). He complied in a nice, normal and pleasant tone of voice.

The first half of the game was agonizing for me. Daughter was back in her small three foot box. She wouldn't leave no matter how loud I yelled/pleaded/begged for her to RUN TO THE BALL! There was a moment where she chased the ball into the corner, and a large boy chasing the ball somehow slid and tripped underneath her, such that the untrained eye might think my little Diva shoved the boy over. I felt a wave of pride wash over me. But it soon passed as the boy ran away with the ball, probably to score yet another goal.

So there I was during the second half of the game, thinking to myself, how am I going to pull out some genuine mom approval here? Do I just plain lie and say she did a great job when it is apparent that she is playing far below her average performance? Do I praise her attitude and avoid the skills conversation? Do I tell her she looks great in her uniform? When all of a sudden, a big kid kicked the ball hard - directly into the Diva's gut.

Now, keep in mind the soccer ball is a nerf, sponge-like thing. There was no way the Diva could be seriously hurt, and besides, she basically blocked what was likely another goal. Like any good (Tiger) mom, I cheered as loud as I could, "GOOD JOB!!! WAY TO STOP THE BALL!!!"

The Diva just looked pissed.

She grabbed her side a few times, obviously annoyed that such a thing had happened to her. I yelled encouraging things like, "YOU'RE FINE! YOU'RE A TOUGH GIRL!" During a time out, when Diva was looking at me, I pantomimed holding my side and rubbing it, as if I had been hit by a soccer ball. She started giggling and said, "Mother! What are you doing?" Then I pantomimed to Husband to rub my tummy, and Daughter said, "NO! I'm fine!" We all laughed.

Wouldn't you know, it happened to her AGAIN! She got in the way of a goal-bound ball, I cheered as loud as I could, Daughter looked pissed. And when the coaches asked if she was alright, I held my breath...and sighed with relief when she nodded that she was fine. At the end of the game, I stormed the floor and gave her a big hug. I asked her if she was alright. She smiled, laughed, and said "Yes, I'm tough."

And they say Tiger parenting doesn't work...

An Up Day

Today was an Up Day.

Every so often, the Diva has a "Down" day. Husband and I made up the phraseology to get me through those mornings where no amount of prodding, pushing or threatening could get the Diva to move faster, follow directions better, or even generally comprehend what I was telling her. I'm sure we all have Down days here and there, but in a Diva the contrast is amazing. For 30 consecutive days she will independently dress herself, make herself breakfast, and be ready for the bus in 90 minutes tops. And then one morning, you will find she put her shirt on inside-out, she made herself a marshmallow based breakfast, and the bus is waiting at the end of the driveway while she tries to get her shoes on the correct feet. Those days are the worst.

But today is a happy day - today was an Up Day.

My first glimpse of Up-Day-Daughter was at her soccer game. Last week we had a little chat about keeping your eyes on the court, and not on your "fans" (a boy who graduated last year was at the game, and she was smiling at him 99% of the time she was on the court...I told her in the car that if she did that again, I would most certainly yell across the gym for her to "STOP LOOKING AT THAT BOY!" She promised me it wouldn't happen again). We also encouraged her to run to the ball. Thus far, her participation has been limited to a 3 foot square that she guards with her life, or until another player runs full-speed at her, then she gets out of the way.

But today, she was a lean, mean, Diva-machine.

We were playing last year's state champions (for context, last year we didn't win a single game). Their players were mostly huge boys, who kicked the ball so hard it would fly through the air and hit the end wall at least 10 feet above the ground. I was a little concerned about my sweet, passive Diva being on the floor. What if she was beaned in the head, or was run over by Big Foot?

I had nothing to worry about. Tonight, she was all about kicking that ball. She must have kicked the ball down the court at least a dozen times. She left her square and pursued the ball. She pursued the ball even when big boys were bearing down upon her. And at the end of the game, she actually seemed a little disappointed that it was over! As the girl who fouled-out of every basketball game her 8th grade year, I was ecstatic about her aggressive attitude, and praised her improvements in the car.

Then, as we were chatting about her day, Daughter told me the entire story that she read in school that day. It was about a family of bears with surprise seeds. Instead of flowers, squash grew. The brother bear made fun of the bear, and he was sad. But then then mother bear cooked the squash, and it was Yummy! For Daughter to be able to recall, and then retell, a story with that much detail - I was amazed. I gushed again at the great day she was having, and then she said, "I talked loud today," which is another skill we are working on...for her to offer that little tidbit made me want to cry.

And here's the kicker. Daughter had such an Up Day, such a super-steller day, but none of it really mattered to her. What she enjoyed the most was all my gushing over her. Her bedtime prayer was essentially, "Thank you for my mother. I love her so much. World's best mom."

There is a deeper lesson here - along the lines of, a mother's praise is the best prize of all, and that maybe I should be a little more generous with it. But I'm a Tiger Mom, and today is a day for reveling in my Diva's improvement and success. She's come a long way, and I'll need the memory of this day the next time we hit a Down spell.

Talking to God

It is a family joke that the Diva has supernatural powers to see the future - or at the very least, that her prayers are given extra weight. Tonight, I asked her whether we were going to end up getting the house we bid on earlier this evening. She said she didn't know. I asked her whether she had talked to God about it. She said yes.

Naturally, without missing a beat, I asked her what he said.

In her God voice, which sounds a lot like her Santa Claus voice, she said, "Yes, you should buy the house."

I stared and whispered, "Did God really say that?"

She smiled and said No.

Dang it. Maybe if I shake her a few times, like a Magic 8 ball...

Homecoming

It was a fairy tale weekend. Riding in the Homecoming Parade in a firetruck with the cheerleaders; going to the Homecoming Dance and slow-dancing with your brother-dad-guardian-person; and hangin' with your fellow divas late into the night...what more could a girl ask for her senior year?

The evening called to mind an "anniversary" of sorts. Last year, Homecoming represented a first for all three of us - not only had the Diva never been to a Homecoming dance, but Husband and I had never been to a social function with other HSS* parents. It was a new and intimidating event for all three of us.

I often tell people that HSS is great because the Diva has a larger, more "normal" peer group. The same group of girls are in Sparklers together, play in after-school soccer, and attend weekend social events. She had many beloved friends at Rural City School, but no group of similarly-situated kids that did life together. And it didn't occur to me until recently that Husband and I had been missing out on peer interaction as well! It has been a real treat to be part of such a fun and supportive network of Parents. It reminds me how important it is to stay connected as a parent of a diva or dude with special needs.

A hometown friend told me that she directed a special mom to the blog - the mom just learned that her baby girl is a Diva. I have thought and prayed for you, dear friend, and as I write today I feel compelled to dedicate this post to you. As someone who only recently learned the value of parent-peers, I strongly recommend you make it a priority to find a group that can celebrate (and commiserate!) with the unique job of raising a Diva. Readers (all 12 of you), join me in a short prayer for this special mom:

Lord, please remind this special mom that ALL things work together for good to those who love God, and are CALLED according to His purpose - let her know today that you have fully equipped her for this calling in her life, and that she is fulfilling a very special purpose. Give her the strength and joy to get up each morning, and a loving community of people to pray her to sleep at night. Amen.

And as a side-note, don't think that just because you aren't officially a member of the Diva-parent-club (we understand, the membership fee is pretty high) that you can't be an invaluable resource to your Diva-parent-friends. Diva-moms need breaks, adult conversation, and encouragement. I still remember the mom who walked the Diva to school every morning because I had to start work at 7:30 a.m.; the friend who took the Diva to basketball games so I could have a date night with my Husband,; or the meal lovingly brought to my home after I had a slight temper tantrum at church (a story for another day). Trust me, even the smallest gift of time is supernaturally multiplied into the biggest of blessings.

Thank you, all you special people out there, who make my life a little bit easier so I can be a little bit better of a mom to my Diva. I know I couldn't do this without God working through you.

* Huge Suburban School