Sitting around on a Tuesday afternoon

There isn't a whole lot going on here right now.  Currently, the Bits is napping, the helper is mopping, the other helper is cooking, and I'm fighting a nervous stomach.  It's the calm before the storm. 

Today is Carson's first basketball game.  Last night we got word that he had "made" the team.  I didn't realize there were cuts, and I guess, there weren't supposed to be.  But too many kids wanted to play so they divided up the kids in to two groups.  The team and the practice squad. Carson made the team.

Part of me is thrilled.  I want him to succeed.  Carson loves playing basketball so I'm glad he is doing well in practice, but there's a big but in all of this.  Carson made the sub12 team.  It's for all kids 12 and under.  12 year olds are in 7th grade.  Carson, who's 7, is going to be playing against middle schoolers.  For those of you who haven't seen us in a few months- or years- Carson hasn't grown since you last saw us.  He's on the little side.  (Especially next to 7th graders)

He's completely comfortable with not playing very much, but the rules of this league state that everyone has to play a quarter.  I'm not sure how long that is- 6 minutes maybe- but he hasn't ever played that long.  He's never played full-court ball.  This, my friends, is NOT the friendly confines of UPWARD basketball.  This is for real.  And another mom already informed me that our team always loses and the other teams always play dirty.

Why did I sign my 7-year-old up for this?

For his part, Carson is confident (really, it's pure ego) that all is going to be great.  He explained to me (like I was a girl) how his role on the team is dribble defeater.  The theory goes that the tall kids are going to dribble the ball high enough that my son, AKA Little Scrapper Man, is going to steal their dribble.  Tony confidently assures me (it's pure ego here, too) that Carson is well built and skilled for this position.  Did I mention he's playing middle schoolers?

And don't let Carson's cool egotistical demeanor fool you.  He's still nervous.  When I got up this morning to make their lunches, I asked Carson if he had his uniform ready to go. 

CD:  (looking at me like I'm stupid)  Umm, ya Mom.  I'm wearing it.

Me:  (looking at him like he's not paying attention)  Carson, not your PE uniform.  Your basketball uniform.

(Slight smirk from Tony who's quietly making sandwiches)

CD:   (now over dealing with me)  Mom, I HAVE my uniform on.

Me:  (finally waking up enough to realize he does look a little poofy)  Carson, you can't wear your basketball jersey UNDER your PE uniform!

CD:  Don't worry about it, Mom.  I have the shorts on, too.

(Quick glance at Tony who is chuckling and making sandwiches.)

Me:  You have on two pairs of shorts!?!

CD:  (Now confident I'm stupid)  Yes, Mom.

(Death glare at my husband who is still making sandwiches.)

Me:  You said he could wear both uniforms at the same time.

Tony:  He didn't want to not be ready.

(Jocks.  What a nightmare.)

Me:  Carson, go take off your basketball uniform and put it in your backpack.  They'll give you a chance to change before the game.  When you get to school, ask JD (a middle schooler!!) when you change.

(Carson exits in a humph.)

Me:  Is Carson wearing his Star Wars sneakers to play?

Tony:  Yes.  He probably should get real shoes.

How in the world can this child be ready to play against middle schoolers?  He's still wearing shoes with Velcro!