Questions to ask your athlete on that car ride home...

Gym Gab:

“How was gym today?” is a question every gym parent wants to ask their kid on the car ride home. Unfortunately this age-old, open-ended question loses it’s importance when the word “fine” become the oh-so common answer.  Here is a list of 25 questions to ask your athlete (not all in the same day of course), that will provide some welcome variety to you and your athlete!

1. What were you most proud of at gym today?
2. What was the hardest thing you did today?
3. What correction do you remember the most today? And why?
4. What compliment do you remember most today?
5. What muscles do you think worked the hardest today?
6. Were you proud of any of your teammates today?
7. Who was a great example to you today? And why?
8. What was the funniest thing about gymnastics today?

Go to the blog to check out the rest of the list.  Any questions of your own?

I posted this elsewhere last September:

The 6 words parents should say to child athletes:

“I love to watch you play”

Rachel Macy Stafford at Huff Po:

"... college athletes were asked what their parents said that made them feel great, that amplified their joy during and after a ballgame. Their overwhelming response: 'I love to watch you play.'"

The life-changing sentence came at the beginning of an article entitled, "What Makes a Nightmare Sports Parent and What Makes a Great One," which described powerful insights gathered over three decades by Bruce E. Brown and Rob Miller of Proactive Coaching LLC. Although I finished reading the entire piece, my eyes went back and searched for that one particular sentence -- the one that said, "I love to watch you play."
I read the sentence exactly five times. Then I tried to remember the past conversations I had with my kids at the conclusion of their extracurricular activities. Upon completion of a swim meet, a music recital, a school musical, or even a Sunday afternoon soccer game, had I ever said, "I love to watch you play"?

I could think of many occasions when I encouraged, guided, complimented, and provided suggestions for improvement. Did that make me a nightmare sports parent? No, but maybe sometimes I said more than was needed.

By nature, I am a wordy person -- wordy on phone messages (often getting cut off by that intrusive beep) and wordy in writing (Twitter is not my friend). 

And although I have never really thought about it, I'm pretty sure I'm wordy in my praise, too. I try not to criticize, but when I go into extensive detail about my child's performance it could be misinterpreted as not being "good enough." 

Could I really just say, "I love to watch you play," and leave it at that? And if I did, would my children stand there clueless at the next sporting event or musical performance because I had failed to provide all the extra details the time before? 

Well, I would soon find out. As luck would have it, my then-8-year-old daughter had a swim meet the day after I read the article. 

Her first event was the 25-yard freestyle. At the sound of the buzzer, my daughter exploded off the blocks and effortlessly streamlined beneath the water for an excruciating amount of time. Her sturdy arms, acting as propellers, emerged from the water driving her body forward at lightning speed. She hadn't even made it halfway down the lane when I reached up to wipe away the one small tear that formed in the corner of my eye. 

 Since my older daughter began swimming competitively several years ago, I have always had this same response to her first strokes in the first heat: I cry and turn away so no one sees my blubbering reaction.
I cry not because she's going to come in first.

I cry not because she's a future Olympian or scholarship recipient. 

I cry because she's healthy; she's strong; she's capable.

And I cry because I love to watch her swim. 

Oh my. Those six words... I love to watch her swim. 

I had always felt that way -- tearing up at every meet, but I hadn't said it in so many words... or should I say, in so few words. 

After the meet, my daughter and I stood in the locker room together, just the two of us. I wrapped a warm, dry towel around her shivering shoulders. And then I looked into her eyes and said, "I love to watch you swim. You glide so gracefully; you amaze me. I just love to watch you swim." 

Okay, so it wasn't quite six words, but it was a huge reduction in what I normally would have said. And there was a reaction -- a new reaction to my end of the swim meet "pep talk." 

My daughter slowly leaned into me, resting her damp head against my chest for several seconds, and expelled a heavy sigh. And in doing so, I swear I could read her mind:

The pressure's off. She just loves to watch me swim; that is all.

~~~

I quickly realized how important it was to express that heart-palpitating kind of love that comes solely from observing someone you adore in action. 

But there was more. I learned that this powerful phrase is not exclusive to children and teens.
This revelation hit me when my husband, donned with white bandage on his arm from giving blood, was hoisting a large trash bag as we cleaned the art room at a center for residents with autism. 

I watched him from the corner of the room where I was dusting shelves with my younger daughter. 

Embarrassingly, I had to turn away so no one saw me tear up. In that moment, I reflected on other recent events where I had been going about my business and had to stop to take pause. Moments when I stopped to watch my husband in action simply to admire the loving person, the devoted husband, and caring father he is. 

But had I ever told him in so few words?

It was time. 

And since writing is much easier for me than speaking, I immediately wrote my observations down. There were no long-winded paragraphs or flowery descriptions, just words of love, plain and simple: 

I love watching you help our daughter learn to roller skate. 

I love watching you teach her how to throw the football.

I love watching you take care of your employees in times of need or uncertainty. 

I love watching you interact with your brother and sister. 

I love watching you read side by side with our daughter. 

I love watching you take care of our family.

~~~

When simply watching someone makes your heart feel as if it could explode right out of your chest, you really should let that person know. 

It is as simple and lovely as that.