And if being on the same team isn’t working but felony charges remain unappealing, a loud muttering of “wow, I get why he’s cheating on her” followed by denials of saying anything of the sort should always be good for getting under a foe’s skin.
Such alternative thoughts are meant for entertainment purposes only and for giving you the satisfaction of having another weapon in your arsenal. Actual deployment is not recommended. Probably.
Rage reignites as I recall the dire and odious weekends I spent in the company of pushy mums when my son was in the county swimming championships, his sister and I in the crowd, fish out of water and wanting to slice what's his name's mother's head in half.
Thank you Holly. It was crap and more crap then and so it is now. You can't meditate or 'grow' your way out of a massive shit show - you just have to wait it out.
I miss a lot of posts - I am always glad to stumble across yours.
Just watched the football. I have only ever watched two matches - Saturday's and today's - I have come to the conclusion sport and watching sport is extremely bad for me!!!
Cherry, “fish out of water” captures how a competitive culture can make the spectators feel as exposed as the children. Your refusal to romanticize endurance adds an important counterweight to Holly’s self-examination: insight may keep a person from throwing the punch, yet insight has no power to turn a hostile sideline into community. Sometimes the honest work is to survive the season, protect one’s dignity, and let the clock run out. Thank you for giving Holly’s essay the blunt testimony of someone who has already lived through that same shit show.
Cherry, 42 years later, the memory still holds the moral injury of watching adults place their disappointment onto children already carrying the strain of performance. The driving and training demanded endurance; the aftermath demanded that you soothe a young athlete while containing the anger the room had earned. That protective indignation preserved a truth the culture around you had abandoned: children deserve care before, during, and after the result. Thank you for returning with the lived detail that shows why certain seasons end on the calendar while remaining vivid in the body.
It was a long time ago - my fabulous little athlete is now 42 but the stinging and protective righteous indignation I felt in response to other mother's bitter and openly expressed disappointments, over and acted out on their poor little ones' post performances, and the gruelling regime of training, driving, soothing and supporting a driven child is vivid and viscerally felt.
I love this ending. It's so true, we're all carrying things we can't see, and time really does go by so fast. The way you reflected on your own emotions with so much honesty and grace made this actually incredibly powerful.
Honeyrealms, you recognize that Holly’s ending widens the frame from one mother’s rage to the unseen histories every person brings into a shared space. Her honesty turns the near-fight into an invitation to meet our own reactions with curiosity before they become harm. The speed of time gives that invitation urgency, especially when children are learning from how adults carry old wounds. Thank you for naming the grace in Holly’s self-examination and for drawing readers back to the shared humanity of the ending.
This brought back memories of my kids' soccer and Little League years.
Of how grateful I was as a single mother for my son to have a coach who welcomed him into the team, and my daughter to get sleepover invites from her teammates.
Those two children are now 41 and 39.
When they tell us that kids grow up so fast and it feels like it's over in a split second, they're not fucking kidding.
Felt this viscerally! I am wound as tight and feisty as they come… even though many would dismiss me as the shy, quiet one. If they only knew. 😒
I hate injustice, and am wired to fight it. And… I also know that impulsivity is often a weakness… so that is how I stop myself, I don’t want to be “weak”. 😅
Aaaaand, yeah… it almost always comes down to being a mirror. 😭 So much wounding inside that is triggered.
But yeah, all bets are off when it comes to mama bear shit.
Megan, your quiet exterior and fierce interior complicate the assumption that visible softness means the absence of fight. Using weakness as a boundary against impulsivity reveals restraint as an act of strength, even when the mirror exposes how much old pain has entered the room. Holly’s reckoning makes room for that complexity: the protector can remain fierce while choosing a response that keeps the wound from traveling forward. Thank you for naming both the force beneath the shy exterior and the mirror beneath the mama-bear instinct.
I know a referee in teenage hockey in Canada. He is always on about parents who are convinced their kid is not getting enough ice time, despite being the next Bobby Orr. It seems to me you are very ‘normal’ and should not be hard on yourself. Parents do this projection thing…. 😄
I am not sure you are sending out the vibes. I think those who are intense are likely the ones who's vibes you are reacting to. As you say, you just want your daughter to have a good time!! I know several parents who get up at 4 in the morning and toss the kid in the back of the car to get to practice. They have drunk the cool-aid and are believers. True believers. And those are the ones you have to watch out for. They send out a steady stream of negative vibrations!
I believe that our responses to being slighted or dismissed (or bullied, ridiculed, etc.) are largely set by late adolescence and there’s only one thing we can do to mollify or change them. And that is to tap into the Wisdom and the Power that is there for us in the Word of God. I don’t believe in psychology or secular humanism. I’ve been a believer for nearly fifty years that God loves me and that I can always communicate with him through the Holy Spirit, who lives in me as a result of my faith in Jesus, the Savior and the Son of God. I know that a lot of false prophets have risen down through the ages, but the truth of life, our relationship to our Creator, and the key to the joy of knowing that this world is just a fleeting moment compared to the blissful gift of eternal life, are found in one place only. Jesus said, “Heaven and Earth shall pass away,but My words shall never pass away.” I hope you discover that you are loved in a way that no mortal can ever love you, and that you realize that Eternal Life is waiting for you in the next world. ❤️!
Thank you Holly for replying so kindly when I expressed my faith. It’s a very important part of who I am. I find a lot of hostility and disrespect from others, including family members who are atheist or agnostic. I really appreciate you. ❤️!
“We’re all on the same team. We have to do the best with the time we have. It goes so fast.”
It reminded me of Gandalf’s words to Frodo…we do not get to choose the time given to us. We can only choose what we will do within it.
Your title feels increasingly meaningful as the piece unfolds. At first, “clocked” is the blow you imagine delivering. But then the encounter clocks you. Time folds in on itself, and suddenly you are not only a mother beside a basketball court. You are also the little girl in the gym again, anticipating the dodgeball, the exclusion, and the shame.
What I appreciate deeply is that you neither excuse the rage nor shame yourself for having it. You become curious about it. The other mother may have triggered the reaction, but she did not create everything contained within it. Your body recognized an old world in a present interaction.
And then your daughter offers such a gentle interruption:
“You’re really making it more than it is, mom…”
She helps separate what is happening from what the wound fears is happening. I wonder if part of the mother watching so closely was also the girl who once wished someone had watched closely enough to protect her.
But you did something different. You felt the electricity without becoming its instrument. You returned the next week. You listened. You loosened your grip.
Perhaps that is what transformation often looks like. Not the absence of being triggered, but enough space within us to choose what we do next.
We cannot change what happened to us or control how the game is played. We can only meet the life before us with as much honesty, tenderness, and freedom as we currently possess…and keep learning.
This was fierce, vulnerable, funny, and deeply human. Keep writing, Holly. You make it easier for the rest of us to look honestly at the moments when the present suddenly becomes crowded with our past.
I think you are right about the mystery of writing. Sometimes the conscious mind is simply trying to tell the story, while something deeper is quietly arranging the images and connecting the threads beneath it. Perhaps that is why another reader can occasionally see a pattern the writer felt but had not yet named.
I wasn’t searching for something hidden to uncover. I was simply following what you gave us...the title, the memory of the gym, the protective mother beside the court, and the space you created between feeling the electricity and acting upon it. The connections seemed to be there, waiting to be noticed.
And I love what you said about “done” being better than perfect. If you had waited until you were completely satisfied, we might never have been invited into this moment with you. The piece did what honest writing can do...it helped you carry the wound full circle, and then it helped some of us recognize something within ourselves.
I’m grateful my reflection helped you see more clearly what your own words were already holding. Thank you for trusting us with them, Holly. Keep writing.
You know, it’s sad, but this is part of life. Your feelings aren’t invalid. There are bullies in this world. Plain and simple. I don’t know, but there are. One would hope they grow up and change into better people. Some don’t. Some parents live vicariously through their children. Why? I don’t know. You’d think by now, we’d all just try to get along and be there for our kids and be happy we can be. People seem to forget that we can make our choices, but we don’t get to choose our consequences. You took the high road here, Holly. Maybe some of the other parents should be as reflective as you. Tomorrow’s another day. Be well.
I think one thing that I wanted to write about here is that we are products of our environment, but I didn’t want to talk badly about middle school girls and this essay also went a lot of different directions.
Thank you so much for reading and believing in me, Christopher. The feeling is mutual by the way :)
Holly, the basketball court becomes a portal between your daughter’s present and the middle-school shame your nervous system still recognizes as danger. Her laughter returns the game to its actual scale and separates her experience from the story your wound had begun writing around it. That moment protects her right to inhabit the game on her own terms while giving you room to meet the younger self who was truly fighting for inclusion. Thank you for writing rage with this much candor and for showing how restraint can become a form of repair across generations.
You know, YOU are the normal humane one, not these egotistical snob parents you’re dealing with. And now you know first hand why their kids turn into the snotty, arrogant, entitled little bastards they become. And this is why society is all messed up right now. The kids reflect mom and dad.
I saw this when I coached baseball an eternity ago. It was nowhere as bad as it is now, but even then it was enough to drive me away from doing it. The parents who overdid everything.
Maybe. If a few of these types of people really got clocked once in a while, things might improve, but I’m not holding my breath. Don’t be too hard on yourself, you’re the one that’s truly ok, honest.
Oh my god Ken. You made me laugh so hard. I almost wrote exactly what you said in your first paragraph but I figured I shouldn’t talk about middle school girls that way.
But it is exactly it.
A parent in this community gave a nazi solute at a school board meeting when they were pissed about something like that is even remotely okay.
Sigh.
I will try to give myself a little grace, Ken. And thank you. Maybe I’ll have to use my fighting words instead.
Also, in your middle cloud picture. There is a face front and center. At first, I thought a teddy bear. But looking closer it’s more human looking a little like doing one of these 🤭
Holly, this was beautifully written. Many of us have moments in our past where we didn't belong. Next time, just lift up your arm, and instead of a fist, just point your finger. You could make it the latest version of the finger pointing meme. Trying to find a little humor here.
Seriously though, your daughter is wise. Adulting is tough when you grew up too quick.
Not sure how you young people are doing it, bringing up kids, let alone achieving a successful householder status. This American side of the planet has made meritocracy our religion and likes our currency. Without these you're tribeless. Everyone has to be a winner and most importantly make sure everyone else knows it.
But I'm convinced that our glass half full side will prevail. The golden rule is golden for good reason. It doesn't tarnish over time.
Your first line is the definition of how to engage a reader. Brilliant. As is this description: “They were essentially monsters in camp chairs.” Also love the self-reflection, especially on projection. I wrote about projection this week, too, also rooted in middle school experience. You, your husband, and your daughter seem so beautifully synched, as if you truly know each other. Love that.
You’re so welcome! I like it when a reader tells me why she likes what I’ve written, so I like doing that, too. Plus, I like to say how I relate to what I’m reading. Shared experiences.
And if being on the same team isn’t working but felony charges remain unappealing, a loud muttering of “wow, I get why he’s cheating on her” followed by denials of saying anything of the sort should always be good for getting under a foe’s skin.
I love the way you think :)
Thanks for reading, Sam.
Such alternative thoughts are meant for entertainment purposes only and for giving you the satisfaction of having another weapon in your arsenal. Actual deployment is not recommended. Probably.
Rage reignites as I recall the dire and odious weekends I spent in the company of pushy mums when my son was in the county swimming championships, his sister and I in the crowd, fish out of water and wanting to slice what's his name's mother's head in half.
Thank you Holly. It was crap and more crap then and so it is now. You can't meditate or 'grow' your way out of a massive shit show - you just have to wait it out.
Yeah, times they are a….getting worse too. Helicopter parents. Burnt out people. Ugh. I try to stay out of the way.
Thanks so much for reading Cherry :)
I miss a lot of posts - I am always glad to stumble across yours.
Just watched the football. I have only ever watched two matches - Saturday's and today's - I have come to the conclusion sport and watching sport is extremely bad for me!!!
Yes, stressful, right?
And I’m with you on missing a lot of posts. Too much great content here.
Cherry, “fish out of water” captures how a competitive culture can make the spectators feel as exposed as the children. Your refusal to romanticize endurance adds an important counterweight to Holly’s self-examination: insight may keep a person from throwing the punch, yet insight has no power to turn a hostile sideline into community. Sometimes the honest work is to survive the season, protect one’s dignity, and let the clock run out. Thank you for giving Holly’s essay the blunt testimony of someone who has already lived through that same shit show.
Thank YOU!
Cherry, 42 years later, the memory still holds the moral injury of watching adults place their disappointment onto children already carrying the strain of performance. The driving and training demanded endurance; the aftermath demanded that you soothe a young athlete while containing the anger the room had earned. That protective indignation preserved a truth the culture around you had abandoned: children deserve care before, during, and after the result. Thank you for returning with the lived detail that shows why certain seasons end on the calendar while remaining vivid in the body.
It was a long time ago - my fabulous little athlete is now 42 but the stinging and protective righteous indignation I felt in response to other mother's bitter and openly expressed disappointments, over and acted out on their poor little ones' post performances, and the gruelling regime of training, driving, soothing and supporting a driven child is vivid and viscerally felt.
I love this ending. It's so true, we're all carrying things we can't see, and time really does go by so fast. The way you reflected on your own emotions with so much honesty and grace made this actually incredibly powerful.
L, thanks so much for reading. I wasn’t super happy with this piece but done was better than perfect.
I know that feeling, can’t always be perfect. But I loved reading it!
Honeyrealms, you recognize that Holly’s ending widens the frame from one mother’s rage to the unseen histories every person brings into a shared space. Her honesty turns the near-fight into an invitation to meet our own reactions with curiosity before they become harm. The speed of time gives that invitation urgency, especially when children are learning from how adults carry old wounds. Thank you for naming the grace in Holly’s self-examination and for drawing readers back to the shared humanity of the ending.
You are absolutely right!
This brought back memories of my kids' soccer and Little League years.
Of how grateful I was as a single mother for my son to have a coach who welcomed him into the team, and my daughter to get sleepover invites from her teammates.
Those two children are now 41 and 39.
When they tell us that kids grow up so fast and it feels like it's over in a split second, they're not fucking kidding.
Yep. I’ve definitely been feeling the time thing so it sort of brought this piece full circle.
Everything is impermanent. Fleeting. Trying to enjoy.
Now you get to experience it with grandkids, right?
Felt this viscerally! I am wound as tight and feisty as they come… even though many would dismiss me as the shy, quiet one. If they only knew. 😒
I hate injustice, and am wired to fight it. And… I also know that impulsivity is often a weakness… so that is how I stop myself, I don’t want to be “weak”. 😅
Aaaaand, yeah… it almost always comes down to being a mirror. 😭 So much wounding inside that is triggered.
But yeah, all bets are off when it comes to mama bear shit.
Megan, your quiet exterior and fierce interior complicate the assumption that visible softness means the absence of fight. Using weakness as a boundary against impulsivity reveals restraint as an act of strength, even when the mirror exposes how much old pain has entered the room. Holly’s reckoning makes room for that complexity: the protector can remain fierce while choosing a response that keeps the wound from traveling forward. Thank you for naming both the force beneath the shy exterior and the mirror beneath the mama-bear instinct.
Yep. We are definitely kindred spirits, Megan.
I’m rooting for you (us).
Thank you for reading :)
I know a referee in teenage hockey in Canada. He is always on about parents who are convinced their kid is not getting enough ice time, despite being the next Bobby Orr. It seems to me you are very ‘normal’ and should not be hard on yourself. Parents do this projection thing…. 😄
Yep. Ugh.
I just want my daughter to have fun. But there is this heavy vibe. I’m glad I know, now, that at least some of it is coming from me, from my past.
Thank you for reading :)
I am not sure you are sending out the vibes. I think those who are intense are likely the ones who's vibes you are reacting to. As you say, you just want your daughter to have a good time!! I know several parents who get up at 4 in the morning and toss the kid in the back of the car to get to practice. They have drunk the cool-aid and are believers. True believers. And those are the ones you have to watch out for. They send out a steady stream of negative vibrations!
Thank you for saying that. When I read your comment I let out an audible exhale.
I am definitely sensitive to energy….and yes….thank you for helping me believe it isn’t just me.
Appreciate you !!!
I believe that our responses to being slighted or dismissed (or bullied, ridiculed, etc.) are largely set by late adolescence and there’s only one thing we can do to mollify or change them. And that is to tap into the Wisdom and the Power that is there for us in the Word of God. I don’t believe in psychology or secular humanism. I’ve been a believer for nearly fifty years that God loves me and that I can always communicate with him through the Holy Spirit, who lives in me as a result of my faith in Jesus, the Savior and the Son of God. I know that a lot of false prophets have risen down through the ages, but the truth of life, our relationship to our Creator, and the key to the joy of knowing that this world is just a fleeting moment compared to the blissful gift of eternal life, are found in one place only. Jesus said, “Heaven and Earth shall pass away,but My words shall never pass away.” I hope you discover that you are loved in a way that no mortal can ever love you, and that you realize that Eternal Life is waiting for you in the next world. ❤️!
Beautifully written, Rafael. Thanks, as always, for reading. Love your wisdom.
Thank you Holly for replying so kindly when I expressed my faith. It’s a very important part of who I am. I find a lot of hostility and disrespect from others, including family members who are atheist or agnostic. I really appreciate you. ❤️!
Holly,
That final line stayed with me:
“We’re all on the same team. We have to do the best with the time we have. It goes so fast.”
It reminded me of Gandalf’s words to Frodo…we do not get to choose the time given to us. We can only choose what we will do within it.
Your title feels increasingly meaningful as the piece unfolds. At first, “clocked” is the blow you imagine delivering. But then the encounter clocks you. Time folds in on itself, and suddenly you are not only a mother beside a basketball court. You are also the little girl in the gym again, anticipating the dodgeball, the exclusion, and the shame.
What I appreciate deeply is that you neither excuse the rage nor shame yourself for having it. You become curious about it. The other mother may have triggered the reaction, but she did not create everything contained within it. Your body recognized an old world in a present interaction.
And then your daughter offers such a gentle interruption:
“You’re really making it more than it is, mom…”
She helps separate what is happening from what the wound fears is happening. I wonder if part of the mother watching so closely was also the girl who once wished someone had watched closely enough to protect her.
But you did something different. You felt the electricity without becoming its instrument. You returned the next week. You listened. You loosened your grip.
Perhaps that is what transformation often looks like. Not the absence of being triggered, but enough space within us to choose what we do next.
We cannot change what happened to us or control how the game is played. We can only meet the life before us with as much honesty, tenderness, and freedom as we currently possess…and keep learning.
This was fierce, vulnerable, funny, and deeply human. Keep writing, Holly. You make it easier for the rest of us to look honestly at the moments when the present suddenly becomes crowded with our past.
Kevin, somehow you really see into the piece and somehow even see dots connected that I wasn’t entirely aware were there.
But, I guess they are there, because writing is pretty magical. The words flow and there always seems to be greater meaning beneath.
When I’m able to work through an emotion in a piece like this it really helps me bring myself and the wound full circle.
I wasn’t super happy with this piece but done ended up being better than perfect.
You’ve really made my day with your commentary, as always.
Thank you so very much.
And...for what it is worth...I thought the first line was hilarious...I nearly clocked the bitch....we've all been there!
I know my humor sometimes doesn’t come through…but I try 😂🤦♀️😜🫣
Holly, thank you...this means so much to me.
I think you are right about the mystery of writing. Sometimes the conscious mind is simply trying to tell the story, while something deeper is quietly arranging the images and connecting the threads beneath it. Perhaps that is why another reader can occasionally see a pattern the writer felt but had not yet named.
I wasn’t searching for something hidden to uncover. I was simply following what you gave us...the title, the memory of the gym, the protective mother beside the court, and the space you created between feeling the electricity and acting upon it. The connections seemed to be there, waiting to be noticed.
And I love what you said about “done” being better than perfect. If you had waited until you were completely satisfied, we might never have been invited into this moment with you. The piece did what honest writing can do...it helped you carry the wound full circle, and then it helped some of us recognize something within ourselves.
I’m grateful my reflection helped you see more clearly what your own words were already holding. Thank you for trusting us with them, Holly. Keep writing.
Can’t say enough about how much I appreciate you, Kevin. Thank you again :)
You know, it’s sad, but this is part of life. Your feelings aren’t invalid. There are bullies in this world. Plain and simple. I don’t know, but there are. One would hope they grow up and change into better people. Some don’t. Some parents live vicariously through their children. Why? I don’t know. You’d think by now, we’d all just try to get along and be there for our kids and be happy we can be. People seem to forget that we can make our choices, but we don’t get to choose our consequences. You took the high road here, Holly. Maybe some of the other parents should be as reflective as you. Tomorrow’s another day. Be well.
Yes. Sigh.
I think one thing that I wanted to write about here is that we are products of our environment, but I didn’t want to talk badly about middle school girls and this essay also went a lot of different directions.
Thank you so much for reading and believing in me, Christopher. The feeling is mutual by the way :)
Thanks, Holly.
Parenthood is a wild trip through feelings. Of course it has to be. But it’s only a few years then it gets easier.
Yep. Although it is a wild ride, I am happy to be on it. Thanks very much for reading, LS :)
Holly, the basketball court becomes a portal between your daughter’s present and the middle-school shame your nervous system still recognizes as danger. Her laughter returns the game to its actual scale and separates her experience from the story your wound had begun writing around it. That moment protects her right to inhabit the game on her own terms while giving you room to meet the younger self who was truly fighting for inclusion. Thank you for writing rage with this much candor and for showing how restraint can become a form of repair across generations.
You are such a wonderful reader, Kevin. Need to check out your work. I can’t thank you enough.
So honest, relatable and strong in that honesty and self awareness. Thank you.
Thank you so much for reading, LF :)
You know, YOU are the normal humane one, not these egotistical snob parents you’re dealing with. And now you know first hand why their kids turn into the snotty, arrogant, entitled little bastards they become. And this is why society is all messed up right now. The kids reflect mom and dad.
I saw this when I coached baseball an eternity ago. It was nowhere as bad as it is now, but even then it was enough to drive me away from doing it. The parents who overdid everything.
Maybe. If a few of these types of people really got clocked once in a while, things might improve, but I’m not holding my breath. Don’t be too hard on yourself, you’re the one that’s truly ok, honest.
Oh my god Ken. You made me laugh so hard. I almost wrote exactly what you said in your first paragraph but I figured I shouldn’t talk about middle school girls that way.
But it is exactly it.
A parent in this community gave a nazi solute at a school board meeting when they were pissed about something like that is even remotely okay.
Sigh.
I will try to give myself a little grace, Ken. And thank you. Maybe I’ll have to use my fighting words instead.
Also, in your middle cloud picture. There is a face front and center. At first, I thought a teddy bear. But looking closer it’s more human looking a little like doing one of these 🤭
Can’t tell you what that means though
There is an eye for sure.
Holly, this was beautifully written. Many of us have moments in our past where we didn't belong. Next time, just lift up your arm, and instead of a fist, just point your finger. You could make it the latest version of the finger pointing meme. Trying to find a little humor here.
Seriously though, your daughter is wise. Adulting is tough when you grew up too quick.
My daughter IS wise. She is such an old soul. Damn, she is one thing I’ve helped make right so far. Somehow.
Thanks so much for reading. I know you get it. Appreciate you :)
Not sure how you young people are doing it, bringing up kids, let alone achieving a successful householder status. This American side of the planet has made meritocracy our religion and likes our currency. Without these you're tribeless. Everyone has to be a winner and most importantly make sure everyone else knows it.
But I'm convinced that our glass half full side will prevail. The golden rule is golden for good reason. It doesn't tarnish over time.
Yep. Times are getting rougher, that is for sure.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting :)
Your first line is the definition of how to engage a reader. Brilliant. As is this description: “They were essentially monsters in camp chairs.” Also love the self-reflection, especially on projection. I wrote about projection this week, too, also rooted in middle school experience. You, your husband, and your daughter seem so beautifully synched, as if you truly know each other. Love that.
Thank you very much. This is such a sweet comment. One that includes a bit about the writing and also the content.
Appreciate you.
You’re so welcome! I like it when a reader tells me why she likes what I’ve written, so I like doing that, too. Plus, I like to say how I relate to what I’m reading. Shared experiences.
Absolutely. This is the true definition of community!