Very Wordful Wednesday: It's in the Genes

*Linked to Amanda and Angie's Wordful Wednesday posts.

Today was Sam's basketball camp: a two-day course for 4-6 year-olds put on, for free, by the high school basketball coach here in town (bless his heart). As I watched--baby strapped to my chest and two-year old pulling his pants down at my side--frustration was coursing through my veins. Why couldn't Sam just...get it? How hard is it to dribble the ball? I mean...really?

Then I realized he has Coltharp in his genes...and we aren't ones for coordination.

Speaking of which, Sam just spilled his paint water all over the floor, so excuse me while I clean it up...

What was I saying? Ah, yes...coordination. I don't have any, and apparently my son got cursed with that trait, too. It was very apparent to me today that coordination isn't something learned. You're either born with it, or you're not.

And Sam wasn't born with an ounce of it.

Well, I take that back. He has a good throwing arm. But catching, bouncing--pretty much anything involving repetitious movement of the arms--and he looks like one of those large inflatable balloon men in car lots. You know, where their arms and bodies are blowing in all sorts of awkward directions in the wind?

That's Sam.

And me, too.

Poor kid.

Poor me.

Oh well. I will never be am over my bad coordination. I had to get over it in high school. But Sam has his whole life in front of him. And today he was the only kid there that just. Could. Not. Get it. And the coaches tried and tried. And so did Sam.

Poor kid.

And we will continue trying, and continue entering him in sports. So that maybe, some day down the road, he can be a little better than me.

But you can't win them all. He is so smart, and I guess if he was good at everything, life might get a little boring, right?

I love my precious, angelic and dainty Sam.

This was him attempting to dribble. He didn't understand that you have to actually hit the ball down with your hand, so he'd bounce it and put his hand out delicately, and it'd either stop bouncing or get away from him. And we tried teaching him over and over again.

This is the ball getting away from him. And it'd roll all the way to the other side of the gym because as he'd run after it, he'd kick it with his feet. Again, poor kid.

When giving up on the dribbling attempt, he decided to throw it away from himself instead. He was already spending his time running after it anyway.

One of the coach's many attempts at teaching him how to dribble.

Picking up the ball after it bounced off of his foot when trying to dribble.

"Look at this rookie. Some day I'm gonna kick his butt on this court, because I got dad's genes."

Splitting into teams. Sam was disappointed because he really wanted to be on the red team.

Huddle!

Again...poor, uncoordinated, cuter-than-heck kid.
But I sure do love him for the way he is, and wouldn't change a thing.