Helping YaYa build his cell cycle poster would have been so bad had he not sprung the whole project on me at 6:30 the night before it was due. Needless to say, we both got through it without killing each other and, by the looks of it, I’d say he might even be happy with how it turned out.
The crowd cheers in celebration of one small victory. Whether it’s an intercept, another first down, or even a touchdown, there is no telling how this will play out. Each victory is only a stepping stone to which they hope will more laid down to pave the way towards the win.
In between plays hip-hop music stirs a different kind of movement. Football player break into dance on the sidelines — balancing playfulness amid the seriousness of playoffs. Some may frown at this but I find it refreshing. After all, they are just kids.
Meanwhile, YaYa and his teammates are in the locker room weighing in with the Pop Warner officials policing the process. With yet 1 1/2 hours until kickoff, they’ll warm up and do a final run through of a few their plain-vanilla plays. They’ll be careful not to reveal the “secret sauce” with the opponent so close at hand.
Since playoffs are single-elimination, it’s do-or-die today. I avoid biting my saids and say a few prayers — not for a win (God has better things to focus on) but for everyone’s safety.
I’m a softie. I let pumpkin carving come before homework. It’s Friday night, but the remainder of the weekend is frighteningly busy. We’ve got playoffs, a sleepover, and much more ahead of us. Still, when YaYa flashed me his sad lil’ pumpkin face, my heart skipped and my stubborn side softened.
Honestly, the kid in me couldn’t wait to create my own Halloween jack-o-lantern. Besides, this is one family event that will be gone before I know it. My baby is growing up so quick.
YaYa is only in 7th grade and already he has been putting in the long hours. His grades have been steadily coming up, which is good. His grades were suffering from an inability to manage football and school but he seems to be finding his way. YaYa has his sights set on a couple of the catholic high schools in the area and apparently this school year is the year that they look at when reviewing entrance applications.
This is the reason why I got YaYa a tutor this summer — because it matters and I don’t get half the stuff he’s learning. More precisely, I may know the math or other subject, but due to everything having different terms to describe it, I often get lost in the instructions.
The other day, YaYa’s tutor had to explain to me what she was talking about: an old concept now taught with new terms. The poor boy is doomed if ever I decide I cannot afford her.
There is something about waking up in the morning. The alarm goes off. I try to ignore the fact that I must get up but then do (albeit reluctantly). Holding the handrail and sliding my hand along the wall, I groggily make my way down the stairs as if I’m half blind. Coffee. I need coffee.
Minutes later, I climb back into bed with coffee in hand and ease into the day. It is peaceful. YaYa is still asleep and the sun seems equally as reluctant to get the day going. I sip my coffee, notice my breathing and, when I’m ready, start to connect to the rest-of-world by reading emails and checking into the social networking sites. News will come later – maybe — when I’m ready for doom and gloom — but not now.
About the time the sun is on the verge appearance, I leave the warmth of my bed, wake YaYa, and prepare to face the day. This action is slight but the resulting effect is extreme.
Rather quickly the hustle and bustle takes hold the morning. The result is chaotic and out of control – no matter how much I try to temper it. Already, my attention is being pulled to the long list of to-do’s and problems without visible solutions. And the stress builds as quickly as the sun rises.
I return to YaYa’s room to find he is still in bed. Meanwhile, much time has slipped away. “Get up!” I insist, before hurrying away to continue getting myself ready.