I'm in a mood

Not that that's news or anything, but I'm really in a mood.  This weekend has been way too emotional for me, and it's just over football.  There's no crying in football! 

Jonathan is the sweetest kid ever.  You would never think so, because he's one tough cookie, but he's like a tough cookie who's all warm and soft and chewy on the inside.  My profile picture?  Yeah, that was him finding a heart shaped shell in the sand and giving it to me.  He can't pass by a weed that has a flower on the end of it without picking it up and giving it to me.  He once brought me a rock shaped like a heart, and countless heart shaped leaves.  The kid is just oozing with sweetness.

He also beats his brother up, and jumps off table tops while landing on his feet and scares the frogs away from the front door so I can come in.  And he loves, loves, loves sports. 

But Saturday's flag football was way too much.  Our team sucks. It really does.  But aside from the team sucking, Jonathan can't stop laughing.   He has the ball, and he sees the opposing team gunning for him, and he breaks out into a mad giggle, and runs the wrong way.  Because he's smart.  And who in their right mind would run towards eight kids trying to get him?

So there he is, running the wrong way, laughing merrily, when some kid takes his flag and the play is over.  And because there are two too many kids on the team, they have to rotate.  So the hubs, who is the unwilling Coach, tells Jon to get on the sideline so he can put a kid in that hadn't played that down.  Next thing I know, Jon is hysterical crying, crouched on the floor in the fetal position.  Really, just what a mom wants to see.

He tells me that his daddy took him out because he did something wrong.  He tells me that his sneakers were making him slip in the grass.  He tells me that he has no superpowers and all the kids can run faster than him.  He tells me he's no good.  I look in his eyes, and they tell me that he's heartbroken.  And I don't know what to do.  Because what I want to do is sit there and cry with him.  We work so hard to build his confidence, to let him know he's loved unconditionally, to teach him how special he is, but we never worked on how to handle feeling not good enough.  Did we do something wrong?  Did we say something wrong?  Did we make him feel too special, not special enough? 

These are only things that affect me.  My husband didn't think twice about it and went about his day.  But it took the life out of me.  I don't ever want Jon Jon to feel the way he did, and yet, I know it won't be the last time.  I also don't ever want my son to just give up, and I don't know how to make him dust himself off and get back in there.  No matter how many times I tell him that as long as he tries his best, he is the best, I don't know how to make him believe me.  I have no control over his heart, and I don't know how to handle that. 

When we got home from the game, I took him to the sports shop and got him some football cleats.  This morning, I woke up and got him dressed and took him to the field to practice, just the four of us.  I can still control his preparedness.   But I feel so useless that I can't control heartbreak-- his or mine.