Earlier this week as I was going through a box of my son’s old baby clothes I came across an adorable little onesie with the words “Future Home Run Slugger” across the chest.  It was a gift from a very dear friend of ours and I can remember my son in it, like it was yesterday. I can also remember thinking to myself “My kid? A home run slugger? Not with these genes”. My husband of course felt the exact opposite.  From day one, he has had visions of our son as a superstar athlete despite the fact that both he and I come from a very long line of, well, non-athletes. I discovered several other onesies in that box, all stamped with the same general sentiment “Future All Star”, “Dodger In Training”, “Pro-Quarterback In The Making” and it got me thinking about the dreams and, dare I say, expectations we have for our kids, particularly the boys, from day one.

I believe in endless possibilities when it comes to my offspring but why is it that when I went through that box, never did I find a single onesie with the words “Future Branch Manager, BofA” or “Fragrance Model in Training” across the chest?  Something a bit more in line with our familial strengths.  The truth is, we as a society put a very high price on Professional Athletes and Athletics and because of that, you will never see Circo put out a line of “Certified Public Account in the Making” onesies.  Not because it isn’t a high paying, highly skilled profession but because there is little fame associated with it.  We treat our Pro-Athletes like gods and our men-folk can’t help but want that for their boys.

This is especially relevant in our household because despite the fact that my son hated skating lessons with the passion of a tween at a One Direction concert, my husband is still convinced that he will be in the NHL. Even though the boy has no interest in hockey aside from whacking people with his stick at family parties, his father believes that because I’m Canadian it is my son’s birth rite to play. I have tried at length to convince him that impeccable manners and a knack for sarcasm are all my kids are entitled to but he won’t let it go.  He has a plan and he won’t let a little lack of agility or coordination keep his kid from his destiny.

I have come to terms with idea that in our partnership, I am the realist and my husband is the dreamer.  He will continue to push our kids towards athletics and I will be there to say it’s “okay” when they want to go home and color. At this point, discussing it anymore with him will only result in an argument. Besides, when he finds out that his son just joined the local chess club, I may not need to say more.