Raising Boys

Athletics day crying.

It was the towns inter-pre-school athletics day this past weekend and our son was going to participate.
Cue large coffee here.
We arrived early to give our “I dislike large crowds and strange environments” toddler time to adjust to the new setting, took him a full ten minutes to get the idea that he could cut loose and enjoy the open spaces.  There was great excitement in the air, most parents had opted to “dress to match” and they were taking it all very seriously. 
So dad, being the designated runner, stood with our little athlete at the starting line, and bam, off they went. Imagine, if you will, five two year olds with over eager parents ready to go for gold. The first ten metres went great, then he realised that he was in the centre of a crowd of people that were all shouting and yelling and he burst into tears.  Holding his father’s hand he ran crying all the way to the finish. Mom waiting on the other end taking photos and laughing, yes, I was laughing, I was totally not expecting him to cry the whole 50 meters.  So needless to say there was much consoling and congratulating of his wonderful achievement of actually participating. As well as silent planning and plotting as to how to make it easier for next time (any tips?).
It was a fun morning and the food stalls and getting to nose around the beautiful private primary school did wonders for the future planning and dreaming for his future.  Although I do wonder why schools athletics is always in the hottest month of the year, it was 32°c that day, and in a country were the possibility of a cool day in February is like wishing for snow on mars, but hey, first athletics day done and dusted.  Excited parents for the years to come of sporting activities and extra murals and a lovely Saturday of social interaction and community participation.

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