I’m in Berlin and my tween is in Melbourne.
After two weeks of family holidays in Asia, it’s probably a good thing to put some miles between us. That sounds tougher than I mean — I miss him, his brother and their father terribly. The airport farewell pulled my heart vigorously and I wondered what I was doing…
Back in Melbourne the tween has settled into the school routine with the added excitement of being in his last term of junior school, and more immediately, getting back into the basketball season.
Basketball is the tweens’ number one love.
It’s what he lives and breaths everyday.
The swish of a goal; the handling, the flip, the blocks and the “and ones”. There’s a life and a lingo that I didn’t know existed until four years ago.
As a player, a coach and a referee, the tween fills his Friday nights and Saturday’s with the resounding bounce of a ball.
It can be a wonder to watch when his head is up, a smile creases his eyes and the move maps across his face.
And afterwards, the flop on the sofa to recount his game plan, talk about his under 9 team he coaches and the calls he made as a referee. The excitement in the recount, the glow of a win, or the shadow of a loss.
What this love of basketball has really brought to my tween is a growing sense of who he is.
He spends many Saturday afternoons and early evenings hanging out with older kids (teenagers) at the courts between his refereeing games.
At first I was wary of what this meant but soon realised that these boys and girls are awesome; funny cool dudes that don’t fit the stereotype. They are great at being themselves and have unknowingly shown the tween that too.
And the vocab is a world to behold!
Who knew the poly-clad group would be our saviour?
7 October 2014
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