It’s as simple as this: Mikey has a set of brass balls. Where Nicholas is sweet and shy and clumsy and lovable, Mikey is honest and confident and sure and memorable. When he sees something he wants, he doesn’t stop until he has it in the palm of his hand. He assumes he will be good at everything and when he isn’t, it comes as a shock. He is so used to overachieving that when he falls short of the mark he makes excuses. I don’t say this to criticize him. I say this because he’s my son and I love him, but I’m not one of those moms who believes her child is perfect. I also say this because the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Here is how Mikey is like me.
Mikey inherited my drive for perfection. Last week I hung in the laundry room some of my favorite drawings the boys have made over the years. Nico doesn’t draw as well as Mikey did at his age, but if you ask him everything he does is brilliant. When he saw his pictures, he immediately pointed out everything that was awesome–and there was plenty of awesome. When Mikey saw my wall of pictures, he grimaced. This one, my favorite of the bunch, really annoyed him.
“It’s not my best work.”
Days later he saw it again as he was putting his baseball uniform to wash. He came storming back to my desk to complete his argument (I refused to take down the pictures days prior). “You know what really bugs me about that Allosaurus picture? It’s attacking a Triceratops, which is impossible. They aren’t even from the same period.”
I reminded him that (1) we don’t know any paleontologists so his gaffe is safe with us (2) he was barely 7 years old when he drew that picture and if anyone is allowed to take poetic license with dinosaur art, it’s the under-10 crowd and (3) too bad, so sad, I love the picture and it stays.
Baseball has been another lesson in perfectionism.
Mikey is now in the age group where the boys who play baseball are serious about the game. They play winter ball, participate in camps, and tour on tournament teams. Mikey has only played spring season baseball three times, and he doesn’t practice outside team practices. That has always worked in the past, but it hasn’t this year. This year, there was a great divide when it came to skill sets. All those camps and off season teams everyone else participated in caught up with Mikey and left him as one of the weaker players on the team. Weak was new for Mikey. New and unwelcome.
For the first few weeks of baseball, practice was a stressful affair. He came home quiet, sometimes angry. He didn’t like getting his lunch handed to him. Even worse, he didn’t like the ribbing he got from his teammates. A few of them let him know he wasn’t the best player. Mikey let them know what he lacked in fielding he made up for in tackling. We had a family meeting that night.
There was one bad night where Mikey came home from practice, walked right past me, and went straight to his room. I found him laying on his bed, still in his dusty practice uniform. I sat on his bed and asked him if he was okay. He rolled over and looked at me with pretty blue-green eyes and said, “I suck at baseball.”
My first thought was that we should call the league and have baseball cancelled forever. After that, a quick call to the school principals of all the boys on the team to let them know they all deserved F’s on every core subject on their report card. In the end, I decided to go less Mama-Bear and point out the obvious. If he wanted to be as good as the boys on his team, he was going to have to practice as hard as they do. He’s at the level where good performance requires effort. Talent doesn’t flutter down into your lap like leaves from a tree during autumn so…it was time to think about winter ball, baseball camp, and all the other stuff the boys on his team do if being good at baseball was what he really wants. If he didn’t want to play baseball anymore, that was okay. This could be his last season. But if he wanted to keep playing, no more excuses or complaining without putting in the work.
He didn’t like that idea. He liked the idea of natural greatness. Yeah, well, so do a lot of people. But if the boys on his team proved anything, it’s that talent rarely comes naturally. We went round and round until he admitted that the idea of camp made him nervous (“You don’t understand, mom. There’s going to be 11 year-olds there.”) and that he was afraid of the unknown. I tried to give him some parental advice on fear, but I missed his hints on backing off in my zeal to be super positive Mom of the Year because he stopped me mid-soapbox and said, “Mom, I’m tired, in a bad mood, and feeling like being a jerk. Can we talk tomorrow when I’m in a better mood?”
I said yes, sure, of course, and that I was proud of him for being honest and that when he was ready to talk I was available and he said, “MOM!!” and then I left his room quickly.
Here is how Mikey is not like me.
A few days later I decided to bring it up again but he waved me off. “Oh, I thought about it when I woke up the next morning and I told dad I’m going to do the baseball camp.”
At his age, I wouldn’t have done the baseball camp. I wouldn’t have done baseball. Striking out, making errors, not being the best…the perfectionist in me couldn’t have handled the fear of failure. I’m too safe. Mikey floundered briefly but then charged ahead because he wanted baseball in the palm of his hand.
It’s why he was excited and not nervous when during a recent game the coach put him in as catcher even though he is a horrible catcher. The team was so far past winning the coach tossed Mikey a bone, which he attacked like a terrier. He didn’t catch a single ball, but he had the time of his life.
The next game, we played a team so bad we knew going in we would win. The coach tossed Mikey another bone and made him the starting pitcher. Mikey was thrilled; I was horrified, but played it off. At the beginning of the season, Mikey couldn’t throw the ball over the plate. He pitched one inning and struck out one batter. Then, at the end of the game he played catcher. This time, his second time playing catcher this season, he caught balls and fielded well. He had the best game of his life and did better than some of the top line boys, probably because he believes failure isn’t a threat. A possibility, maybe, but not a threat.
When we drove home from the game I asked him if he was nervous on the mound and he said not at all. “Not even when you were throwing balls? You didn’t get nervous when you threw a ball and had to pitch again? I would have been nervous to throw another ball.”
“No way, Mom. Even the best pitchers throw balls.”
Parenthood is hit and miss, but recognizing your child has inherited some of your good while avoiding most of your bad is a hit. So is the realization that you learn from your child more than they learn from you.
Perfectionism is a terrible beast–and I have hated seeing how I’ve passed mine on to one of my children. Sometimes it just paralyzes him. The hardest part has been accepting what you touch on here: That who and what he is, is largely out of my control. He seems to have gotten both my perfectionism and my inclination to avoid the things that make it rear its ugly head, despite my best efforts to teach him what I’ve learned about taming it. I know he’ll have to learn that in his own way, in his own time (just like I have). (The perfectionist in me, of course, wants to beat myself up for not being a better parent who can somehow say/do the perfect thing to make it all better for him.)
The perfectionist wants to beat yourself up, just like I’m sure there is a logical part of you that knows the way he is isn’t because you weren’t a better parent. Some kids just have those personality traits, awesome parenting and all the hindsight wisdom shared be damned.
Where I have to worry with Mikey is academics. The kid gets less than an A and it’s the end of the world/he’ll never get into college, etc. etc. He puts a lot of pressure on himself, and I’m still figuring out the balance between encouraging his intelligence and making him feel grades are everything.
Academics have been a huge issue for my perfectionist. He doesn’t feel the need for perfect grades, but needing to do things perfectly (which, of course, is impossible to do) has ended up having a negative consequences on grades. This child has absolutely transformed me as an educator. Don’t get me started on grades and all the ways in which they are invalid. Parenting is not for the faint of heart.
Jules, you’re going to have to stop writing such amazing posts because all I can say every single time is woah! :) I read your post so intently that someone was standing in my doorway in my office for a good 2 minutes without me noticing and when they spoke, I jumped about 10 feet high. I feel like you immersed us so deeply in the story of Mikey and perfectionism, failure, success, drive and just plain awesome parenting that if this post was a million pages long I would continue to read and read and read. Your family is truly special. :)
Hah! I’m trying to make up for the debacle of April. ;)
Leave it to baseball to open us up to universal truths. Perfectionism is painful because when you reach the top there is no where to go but down. Excellence always gives you the opportunity to surpass yourself.
Ooooh! I love this! Great quote.
I think this may be your best post yet. Maybe it’s because I’m a boy mom, too, or maybe it is simply because it is full of universal truths. Either way, fabulous.
Thank you, Courtney. :)
I’ve come to realize that most of parenthood is hoping that I only transfer the good in me and withhold , from plain sight, the bad.
Incredibly well said, Rachel.
What a wise little guy he is – at 55 I still don’t know as much as he does about perfection and trying and achievement. Both my girls played volleyball – they are just a bit past 5′ (making them taller than I am!). One went to volleyball camp at UF – my stomach hurt while we registered and checked her in. Never in a MILLION BILLION years would I have done that – then or now. She loved it. The other played club volleyball – we traveled to tournaments and my stomach hurt the whole time. She loved it.
But the best wisdom of all – �Mom, I�m tired, in a bad mood, and feeling like being a jerk. Can we talk tomorrow when I�m in a better mood?� Good for him – to be able to recognize what he’s feeling, articulate and express it, and know how it will affect his reactions – that puts him ahead of about 3/4ths of the adults I know. That will serve him well!
I still don’t know when to shut up when I’m itching for a fight, so clearly he didn’t learn that self awareness from me. Heck, I didn’t even know when to shut up when he was telling me to shut up! ;)
Jules, WONDERFUL post. Thanks so much for taking the time to share this :)
Thank you, Karen. :)
Jules, you’re selling yourself short here. I think Mikey’s perspective is as much about nurture as it is about nature. Learning how to work hard for what you want early in life is such a gift – and it will serve him well for the rest of his life. It sounds like you really helped clarify that for him, while letting him know the choice was his and you would support him either way. Dare I say, sounds like pretty perfect parenting :-)
Haha! Maybe more like excellent parenting, ala Fairfaxe’s quote. ;) ;) (Joking!! Please, don’t anyone think I was calling myself an excellent parent!)
I hope he’s learning from us to go after his goals and that he can try anything. That doesn’t mean he can do anything. I tried to (gently) tell him that, too. Sometimes, the best you can do is work really hard to be an okay baseball player. God didn’t make or want a planet full of professional athletes, just like I know not every boy on that team has read the entire Harry Potter series in three months. In fact, not a single boy on that team has read any of the Harry Potter series. We all have the potential to be great at something, just not everything.
This is such a beautiful and amazing post. My son has inherited my perfectionism as well, though I’m trying very hard not to pass on my neuroses :)
You and the mister are clearly doing an excellent job with your boys – they are both on the path to becoming great men.
Hah. I told my husband what Mikey said about even the best pitchers throwing balls, and he said that we must be doing something right. We both agreed we have no idea what that something is, it could be he just watched a really good after school special, parenting is a crap shoot, and all we can do is hope for the best. Stress!
Ha – well, that could be it, too. But at least you’ve taught him to watch the good T.V. shows…
I’m so glad to hear Mikey has parents who “get” him because when I was that age, mine didn’t. I grew up with parents who were all about the “Do the best you can and don’t worry about it” kind of thing…but as I’m sure you’re aware, we perfectionists don’t really work that way. :-)
My soon-to-be 8 year old nephew told me this weekend that he wants to try baseball this summer. He’s never played it before. For a kid who is usually too cool to talk to me, he talked my ear off about baseball for almost an hour. Turns out I’m the only person he knows who played it for almost 10 years (well, I played softball…but that’s close enough to him). He also knows that I have a bit of that perfectionist thing, and I think he was trying to “feel out” just what he was getting himself into. I kinda gave him the same talk you did with Mikey – he’s at an age where he’s going to play with kids who are better than him…not because they’re more athletic, smarter, bigger, etc. – but because they’ve been throwing a baseball every day since their hands were big enough to hold one. I offered to help him practice whenever he wants, and we’ll see if he takes me up on it.
I don’t think there are many “natural” baseball players out there, but there are a LOT of driven, determined ones who will put in the time to get better. Mikey definitely sounds like one of them. Sure it’s gonna be hard…but as we all know in our infinite adult wisdom, the best things always are. :-)
Oh, and give him a solid high-five for pitching – I never had the brass balls for it. :-)
My other favorite: Never tell a worrier to “just stop worrying about it.” It doesn’t work that way.
Brass balls, right? I couldn’t believe it. And it’s not like he’s a great player, either.
Mikey has a friend who wants to play baseball next year and also has never played before. Of course, me being the Mama Bear, I’m already worried for him and he’s not even my child. Mikey suggested he do the camps with him this summer and also play winter ball so that when spring comes around, he isn’t in for a total shock. Those kids–it’s incredible to witness how hard and how fast 8 year olds throw a baseball. 8 year olds!
WOW! your son is amazing! so impressed with how he expressed himself. so impressed with his no-quit attitude. isn’t it just….so baffling and wonderful at the same time when our kids teach us stuff?? I feel that way ALL the time. It’s the oddest feeling when things are coming out of my little daughter’s mouth that sound like something you’d hear on a mountaintop in Nepal. And I’m acting like a toddler.
A mountaintop in Nepal!! So true!! Mikey has always been very good at expressing himself–ask Emma. ;) He just needs to work on his filter a little bit. Nico is more like his dad, quite and sensitive.
I always joke (sort of) that I hope I don’t parent out of the boys all the commonsense they have right now. Fingers crossed I don’t blow it! :)
I absolutely loved this. I wish I were more caffeinated to fully explain myself better. Happy Wednesday Jules! =)
Haha. I hear you! I’ve got toothpicks in my eyeballs right now. :)
Oh man, Jules, I’m just about losing it on this post, it hits home in so many different ways. There’s so much that I want to ask/say, but need to reign it in. I’ll preface by saying that I had a pretty bad stomach ulcer at 10 years of age, so perfectionism had already taken its toll, and I didn’t have the tools, or parents, who knew how to handle it. You’re a great mom, and thus have great kids (and kudos to dad too).
The kids playing so competitively year round – is this the norm for sports now? (This isn’t really what I’ve taken away, I’m just curious, as we’ve not been involved in team sports, yet).
Yes, absolutely. It’s a year round thing and now it’s not enough to be in “little league”–I don’t even remember winter ball when I was a kid–but now kids play club baseball, play in tournaments and travel teams, you name it. Just wait. On Friday I’ll play videos of Mikey pitching/catching and you won’t believe the chatter from the coaches and the parents. The coach on the other team (easily one of the worst teams we’ve played) was pretty intense, which is par for the coarse with baseball.
Simplicity Parenting (the book) has a great section on team sports and how kids these days are playing so much that by the time they get to high school they are burned out. Unfortunately, it’s at high school age that the kids need the benefits athletic teams offer. Both my boys are really into sports, but we have a rule I won’t budge on: one sport per season. No doubling up on sports and only one additional extra curricular activity so long as it’s enriching, like a musical instrument or art lessons or something. Choir is a ministry, so that doesn’t count. So far, we’ve only done one sport + choir. I don’t like to have some place to go every single day of the week and they haven’t complained.
Wow, wow – their little bodies, I wonder how their rotator cuffs are by the time they’re twelve (it probably isn’t more than an hour a day, right?)? This kind of freaks me out, and I was a really, really active kid. I’ll have to take a look at the Simplicity Parenting book – I wonder if the intensity is the same here (probably).
I played soccer very competitively in junior/senior/uni, but as a child, it was always for fun and only in the fall, baseball was spring, swimming was summer – the seasons were defined by the sport. I’m not against team sports – they teach so much, just not sure I’m prepared for that sort of intense competitiveness.
We have similar rules about activities in our family – the kids swim in the summer (spring sometimes), play piano year round, the 10 year old has science/engineering club, and my boy loves dancing right now so we’re just about to start tap. The schedule already feels so full, yet so many of the kids’ friends do so much more.
There are kids who are playing little league and tournament/travel league at the same time. So, I imagine they are practicing everyday of the week, plus games. Both are over an hour long. Then, after our season closes, All Star season starts and goes on through the summer. There’s a brief break (maybe a couple of weeks?) before winter ball starts. Baseball is no joke. The parents are pretty hardcore, too. We’ve been lucky with the people on our team, thank goodness, but we’ve come across some real asshats on opposing teams.
What a sweet little post. Funny how the apple is often not far from the tree, huh? Both your boys seem like they are going to be superstars (in their own, wonderful ways).
Their personalities are very different! I’m so curious to see to see my boys as adults. :)
Awesome story – and what an awesome young man he is! I loved reading this.
Thanks! He’s a good boy.
Terrific writing and insights in this post. It’s a fully formed piece that could and should be published elsewhere. (And I totally could see myself in your shoes, when you kept pressing the issue with Mikey & hovering with worry.) You may say that you don’t care much for non-fiction and memoir, but clearly you have a knack for it yourself. ;)
Now, now. Let’s not get crazy. ;)
Yeah, I was a total hovercraft with Mikey that night. He tried to be nice about it, but he finally had to tell me to shut up and get out…with all the love of Jesus in his heart.
Wow! What a great post. I can totally relate as I grew up playing baseball and was never the “star player” on the team. But I did everything I could to improve my skills and it showed in the amount of time I got to play towards the end of the season as I progressed as a player.
Chase Miller
The Smell of Summer – A Boutique Surf Lifestyle Blog
This is a beautiful post. You so eloquently described what I go through with my oldest son (who turns 7 in a week!). I went through a similar experience with him and his swim lesson. He has been so much more brave that I ever could have imagined being at six years old. It’s a proud mom moment when we realize that our sons have championed what we never could at such a tender age. As a huge baseball fan, your photos are amazing!
I love everything about this post. But what I love most is this:
“My first thought was that we should call the league and have baseball cancelled forever. After that, a quick call to the school principals of all the boys on the team to let them know they all deserved F�s on every core subject on their report card. In the end, I decided to go less Mama-Bear and point out the obvious.”
As Mama’s, we want to immediately protect our boys and make everything better when something is wrong. I can relate to having somewhat irrational thoughts about how to make my boys’ problems disappear. And I can also relate to having to step back and let them learn the lesson on their own. (Not an easy thing to do when you’re an obsessive compulsive controller, like me!)
Hi! As author of a book about perfectionism (The 7 Secrets of the Prolific: The Definitive Guide to Overcoming Procrastination, Perfectionism, and Writer’s Block), you did a *great* job managing his perfectionism. More than that, you helped him heal. Not everyone would have reacted so well.
Here’s the post I wrote about this post:
http://www.hillaryrettig.com/2013/05/09/the-right-way-to-cope-with-your-kids-perfectionism/
Hope you like it!
This sort of post is why I will always keep your blog on my top five list. So much to love and learn from here. Thank you for sharing so openly. And these pictures are GREAT!