September 22, 2011

Stupid Parent Tricks

Boom is a senior this year and determined to attend college away from home, despite several good universities being within daily driving distance from our home.  I can't blame her, in fact, she needs to go away and get some independence.  She has already been accepted to Kansas State University, which was a bit of a shock.  She filled out the brief online application on a Saturday and had an acceptance letter in the mailbox by the next Thursday.  They didn't ask for a resume, letters of recommendation or even a transcript.  She had previously sent her SAT scores and that, apparently, is enough for them.

Boom really wants to be an Aggie, and the only thing that will change that path would be an amazing scholarship offer to another school.  KSU is in the running for that, as they will guarantee a slot in grad (vet) school if she completes her undergrad work there.  That is a sweet offer, knowing that she won't have to go through this whole application and waiting game four years from now. 

All this college planning and applying have really brought home the fact that this is our last year to have her at home.  She isn't nearly the social animal that I was at her age (THANK GOD), so we haven't battled much over time with friends versus time with family.  The biggest challenge around here is time unique to each of the four kids.  So when Boom came home and asked if I would play indoor soccer with her this fall, I foolishly agreed.

Despite being in the 'Take It Easy' league, our ragtag group of moms and senior daughters run our asses ragged every Wednesday night.  Last night our game was at 10pm, gah.  We have a perfect record (all losses).  First game out, I subbed in and ran full-tilt down the field toward the ball and an oncoming opponent.  We reached the ball at the exact same time, cocked our kicking legs back and both tried to drill the ball.  What resulted was basically blunt force trauma on the ball (and our bodies) as our forward momentum was abruptly cancelled out by the velocity of the opposing force.  It made a rather impressive noise, one of those things that causes the onlookers to verbally react.  It was an awesome display of competitiveness and strength.  It wrecked my right knee.  The one that has been surgically repaired twice before. 

Not being one to quit, I am soldiering on for the duration of the season.  God is finding favor in my dedication, as he has aided my delay in getting a professional opinion by making sure that my 'old' orthopedic surgeon's office takes its sweet time finding my records to send to the 'new' ortho.  The new ortho won't see me until he has reviewed the records.  I Google-diagnosed my injury and have determined that, while continued play might hurt like hell, it isn't doing much more damage.

This is the senior-in-high-school-child induced version of mom guilt.  I can't bear the thought of dropping out of our swan song activity together.  Plus, I have really shiny-cool cleats that would go to waste. 

The beauty of the indoor soccer place is in the bar serving the spectator area.  Next season will probably find me there, post-surgical knee in a brace, Shiner in hand, assuming the role of head cheerleader. Good Times.

1 comment:

kerrcarto said...

I didn't know you are a member of the bad knee club also. 6 years of installing flooring did mine in.