Last spring around this time At-man and a small group of friends joined a basketball class through our local parks department. The “cute factor” was off the charts, but really it was more of a social thing if you could call any meeting of fifteen 3 year olds truly social. At-man has the attention span of a tsetse fly, and basketball held his interest for about a nano-second of the 30 minute class. The rest of the time was spent with him wandering aimlessly around the court making announcements like “Man, that’s a BIG fan!”

When his fourth birthday came around we decided it was time for another shot at sports, alas, Kung Fu. The instructors keep him involved, there are constant rewards, no team effort is required…it seems so perfect. At-man is doing well with his classes, although he does complain about having to leave his Lego’s for so long in the afternoon. I decided that things were going well and signed him up for the minimum class commitment, 1 year.

Flash forward to this morning, walking into preschool. At-man turns to me with his giant “Carolina” blue eyes and says “What about basketball mom?” “What about basketball peanut?” “When can I play it again? I miss it.” “What?! That was a year ago. A year in which no mention of basketball was ever made on your part.” “I think I should play basketball.”

Well, I think he should play basketball too. D and I both love to play and watch basketball. As a matter of fact, when I found out I was pregnant with At-man I was about to leave work to play some ball. Rather than announce my news right away, I waited until after the game because I was afraid none of the guys would want to play with me anymore once they knew I had a “bun in the oven”. Ever since we found out we were having a boy I have looked forward to shooting hoops in the driveway. The fact that we don’t even have a driveway is neither here nor there.

Now I am left to wonder what to do. Are 5 days of preschool, 2 karate and 1 basketball too much for such a little dude? What if we get into all of this and he decides he wants to play drums? I mean, I did expect this, but not quite so soon. It’s already hard enough for me to pack up the entire “dog and pony show” just to hit karate. I get to spend each lesson peering through a window while wrestling Em, who desperately wants to run amok through the studio while shouting a baby talk version of HI-YAAA! Em is in the middle of the baby “ball obsession” stage, so having to watch his big bro play any game involving an orb where he is unwelcome just might send him over the edge.

If there is anyone out there (anyone at all) who has been through the over scheduling of today’s child, I would love some advice…