In honor of my son, Mike, who left for college this week, let me share the story of how I got the "coachmom" nickname.
One day when Mike was 16, I was trying to give him a pep talk about his school work. Notice I said "trying to". LOL! He was sitting on couch because he had learned that it was to his disadvantage to be six inches taller than me. He couldn't help looking down at me and it infuriated me! And now he's about 8 inches taller than me!
Anyway, there the poor boy was sitting on the couch, listening to me and watching me pace back and forth. I told him that I knew he was smart but that he needed to "get out there and show it to me" and that I wanted to "see the fire in his eyes". Trust me, there was at least a hundred sports metaphors in this 10 minute tirade.
All finished with this great work of parenting art, I looked at him and said, "Well what are you waiting for? Get upstairs and get to work."
With his blue eyes sparkling, he said, "Coach? Oh, sorry! I was waiting for the whistle."