Dropping Off One Daughter

Gaining a team of daughters

There’s been a lot of tennis drama this week, and I don’t only mean Serena! 

Watching Serena play her last matches At the US Open was about the greatest thing I’ve ever seen on television. I was jumping off the couch; then choking back sadness. My hands were constantly up, reaching for the ceiling. 

In the middle of her first match I had to leave the house for my own tennis lesson which turned out to be really fun. Maybe I was inspired by watching her first set. I was also excited to try out a new racquet from a little unconventional doubles-style tournament that Zane and I won!! last week. Zane plays like a beast when he gets up to the net. He made our opponents sorry they woke up that morning! MWAHAHAAAA That’s my baby! 

our winning team last weekend!

Thank goodness Serena won that first match so I was able to see her play twice more on other nights. All of the goodbye pomp and big talking around that first round match was annoying anyway. I greatly prefer watching her actually kick ass to listening to old people talk it. 

Just when you thought I couldn’t squeeze any more tennis into my newsletter or my schedule, I DID! I’ve started working as a volunteer assistant coach for the girls’ JV team. So far the job has filled my days nicely, so I don’t sit around drinking gin, missing Darla. 

I’ve wanted to help out with a high school tennis team for many years, and two weeks ago the tennis coach from Zane and Darla’s high school finally agreed to let me try it out.

Thus far, I’ve been able to help at four practices and two pre-season matches, where there have been no fewer than five separate girls brought to the verge of tears. So much emotion! There is also a little interpersonal drama about who is going to make varsity and who will stay down on JV. But that’s normal, understandable, and hasn’t gotten weird -- yet! 

After what I’ve seen at the two JV matches, I think I may have found one of the most dramatic subcultures on the planet: high school girls trying out for a sport at which they aren’t especially gifted. 

It’s like The Real Housewives out there! Most of them do not actually care about the sport of tennis. But, they are very concerned about how their body looks, what impression they are giving, and what other people are saying about them. In general, I stand around and feel so grateful I’m not in high school. But! I also love their energy and find them pretty adorable. They giggle; they skip; they have cute outfits with colorful hair and nails. I’m in love with all of them. Even H, who still hasn’t smiled at me. It’s okay. She will. 

I thought I’d witnessed the height of the drama when an upper-class girl walked off the court and left the premises after losing one set. She straight up LEFT THE SCHOOL in the middle of a tennis meet because she LOST! I was flabbergasted and totally in shock. 

Guess what? That wasn’t the most dramatic thing. 

At our next match, after completing her first full day of high school, one poor child had a full-blown panic attack which caused her body to shut down in the middle of her match. Naturally she freaked out and was unable to play another point. 

Luckily for both of these ladies (and for a few others whose actions were comparatively less dramatic) I was standing right by their court and was able to talk to both of them mid-breakdown. 

Unfortunately, it was my first time in either situation. Reminiscing now, I can see what I might have done and said to change both outcomes. But sometimes a situation is so batshit crazy you can’t think of the right thing to do in the moment, no matter how present and grounded you are! No matter how cute you look in your big, straw, coach’s hat. And no matter how pure your intentions. 

Coach Nonni: working miracles. saving lives

Good news: I betcha a million dollars I’ll get another chance! 

I betcha two million dollars there will be more tears and more panicking. 

Don’t worry ladies -- Coach Nonni is here with a pop song playlist and some sour patch kids! 

Now I know why I’ve been listening to Brene Brown and doing yoga for all of these years -- to prepare me for these coaching moments. haha! I’m staying positive and feeling humble (read: embarrassed) for sure. And every night I’m physically exhausted like I used to be when my kids were little. I fall asleep so fast! I couldn’t stay awake worrying about Darla if I tried! 

Speaking of Darla…

with Uncle Barry and Aunt Debbie at a fancy hotel in Charleston

Taking Darla to college was emotionally hard for Jeff and me. But having her gone is not nearly as sad as the lead up to it was. Everyday I would dread it, looming on the horizon. Now we are just fine, thank you. And Darla? Oh boy. Darla is living her best, gamecock life. She’s been to a sporting event almost every day. She has fun, adorable suitemates from other states. And she has snapchat to keep up with everything and everyone back here in Long Beach. 

On her move-in day I met at least ten young people who appeared to have quit their modeling jobs to attend school. There were beautiful people everywhere! All shapes and colors of very attractive people. College is incredible! So many things to learn and try out, including new relationships. I might be jealous of Darla if I hadn’t seen the bathroom she has to share with three other ladies all year. 

Darla’s dorm room all set up

Jeff and I set up her room, then we all went to the drug store to buy extra hangers and something else, I don’t even remember what we bought. I was too preoccupied with trying not to cry in public. It was very important to Jeff that we not cry that day. We cried all together the night before, but on move-in day we were going to be strong!

Equipped with her new supplies, we drove back to campus and parked in front of Capstone House, the dorm where she lives now. We hugged her over and over again. We said the hackneyed words and DID NOT CRY. She took some deep breaths, picked up her last couple bags of stuff, and walked across the street to the dorm. 

There were tall, oak trees and lots of cars full of students and parents. There were tables full of pamphlets and UofSC merch. There were huge flags saying “Welcome Home.” 

She kept walking into the building until we couldn’t see her anymore. She never looked back. 

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Thanks for reading and sharing. How did your college drop off go?

I love you all!

Nonni <3<3