Parenting confession

I realized something horrible about myself this morning. It has been needling me for a year or so, but today I realized it was true.

I am one of THOSE parents.

Those parents who want to help their kids' coach by giving helpful advice. Who just can't stay off the field (or pool deck, as the case may be.) Who just wants to help. And if it irritates the coaches even half as it irritates me, I am setting the kids up for embarrassment as they get older.

You see, I have spent a lot of time with my kids over the years. I know their every twitch of the eyebrow and purse of the lips. I know what they are thinking (they are young yet, I know that will change). And as much as I try to sit and let the coaches do their jobs, if my kid is giving them the "What the heck are you talking about?" look while telling them they understand, well, it drives me crazy.

I don't fight with other parents. I cheer on the other kids. I have read all the articles about how to be a supportive and helpful parent. But if my daughter or son doesn't get it, it is painful for me not to explain to them what they aren't understanding. If you have ever watched your kid stand stock still in the middle of a basketball game because the coach assumed kids understood how to play and never bothered to explain what they needed to do, you will understand.

I have been advocating for those kids for years and years, and shutting off that instinct is hard. But acknowledging I have a problem is the first step.

So, I promise to "help" the kids after practice. I promise not to undermine your authority on the field. I will conquer this monster before I embarrass myself.