Moving Sucks

I know.  There's really no earth-shattering point to be made about moving and how much fun it isn't. Every move is unique and yet each one fills us with dread. The organizing, packing, purging, lifting, toting and cleaning all crammed in a matter of a few days.  Oh sure, you can get started early.  I did.  I found that the misery just started earlier and lasted longer.  After 2 months of preparation, the movers arrive tomorrow morning to do the heavy lifting.

We picked up the keys to our new place yesterday.  We had dinner and will sleep here tonight.  Tomorrow night, we'll have furniture instead of camp chairs and a 42-in plasma tv for movie viewing rather than a 17-in laptop screen.  We'll be a long way from settled in and still a week or so from surrendering the keys to the old place but, like the pain of childbirth, the moving memories will start to fade. I'm working hard to retain the data on the car loads we donated and the mountains to trash we purged so that when, a few weeks from now, when I am cussing the fact that we have too much stuff, I'll be able to remember how far we've come.  In the meantime, I will continue to chant, "Moving sucks."

Out of My Element

As a single parent, I have faced a lot of unanticipated challenges.  I suppose my kids have, too.  I remember stocking up on feminine protection products so my daughter could take some to Dad's and not have to talk to him about buying them.  I also handled most of the underwear shopping for the same reason.  Those were easy because I had experience and knew what I was doing.

Skating Jump

It's different with my son.  I have had to step out of my comfort zone more often because his interests are diverse and his dad is not local.

A couple years ago, he took up skateboarding.  I was terrified for awhile.  I eventually got the lingo down. I knew the difference between a deck and a truck.  I learned decks came in different sizes and shapes and I knew my son's preferences. I got him a helmet and a Road ID to help protect him from injury.  I also got some great photography as he mastered various stunts at the skate park. In a way, we learned skating together.  The biggest surprise for me was when the guys at the skate shop told me it was good to be able to get 6 weeks out of a pair of shoes.  Yes, that's how long it took for him to wear through the soles of a pair of skate shoes when he was skating every day.

Rec Basketball

After skating came basketball.  He had played recreational basketball in 5th grade.  There wasn't much for me to learn there.  They got uniforms as a part of registration.  My biggest responsibility was transportation to and from practice.  In middle school, his passion for playing basketball hit a new level. Rather than playing on his school team, he started playing at our fitness club with men.  His skills blossomed but so did his shoe budget. I have invested in some shoes that, for the price, ought to buy him a slot in the NBA.  He now has shoes for each day of the week and what I hoped was a favorite sport. I like basketball. I like watching basketball.  I understand basketball.  So, of course, it was time to try other sports.

His first Nikes and his latest Nikes

Several months ago, he participated in his first football tryouts.  We had to buy cleats, a mouth guard and, worst of all, a cup. Both he and I got through the experience but it was touch and go for awhile.  Standing in Dick's Sporting Goods looking at a wall of cups, I wasn't surprised to learn that they came in sizes but was left wondering how we were going to figure out the right size.  I was also very surprised to learn that you can't get that little piece of plastic for $10 like I expected.  Maybe there is some correlation between shoe cost and cup cost. I don't know.
He didn't make the football team, news he took with a lot more grace than I did. He quickly moved on to his next sports interest, the one that took me right to the edge of maternal sanity. He wanted to learn to box.  I didn't even know where that happened.  I had honestly never even seen an actual boxing ring. I had seen them on tv but never in a setting that indicated I would want to be there or that I would want my children to be there.
I stalled for awhile.  I made claims of needing to do more research.  I googled boxing in my town.  I got back a list of places with out-of-service phone numbers and For Lease signs in the windows. I broke down and asked a friend, who is a retired police officer.  He was able to point me towards a facility that has a boxing program and is a part of the city recreation system.  That felt close to reputable so we went to take a look. After 2 minutes, my son was ready to sign up. Thankfully, membership at the rec center included the boxing so I could tell myself I wasn't paying for boxing lessons. He now trains 3 nights a week.  His coach says he's pretty good and may be ready to compete in 3-4 months. We have been able to reuse the mouth guard purchased for football. All the other gear is unique to boxing. We've purchased wraps, gloves and clothes (I've been told I shouldn't call them an outfit). He is also an official member of USA Boxing. Everyday I think "how much worse could it get?" But then, I remember, he's going to need boxing shoes and a "protective belt" (think "cup" super-sized and at 3 times the price). I'll be headed back to Google to figure out where we get to go shopping next.