Nothin' But Net

Some of you may remember that over the summer I received my first invite to one of The Kid's school events. This was a huge breakthrough in my "stepmom" role and I was hoping for the opportunity to participate in more school events.
Well last week was The Kid's first basketball game of the season. I've seen him at a few practices since he practices at my gym, where I reside most afternoons. I'd been asking him when the games started, but true to teenage form he had no clue. Last Wednesday, The Husband informed me that Thursday would be the first game. And uncharacteristically, I invited myself. I asked The Husband to clear it with The Kid first (the last think I wanted was him to be thrown off by my presence and play badly). He said The Kid was fine with it and so I planned on going.
As Thursday wore on, I got nervous about going. I've never been in a confined space with The Ex and I was worried about that. I was worried about the reactions of the other parents, who have heard less than savory stories about my character. In any experience that involves all members of this blenderfuck, I assume the worst and so I was worried. My stomach was in knots. My heart was pounding. Around lunchtime I decided not to go. I mean, in six years I've not really been (allowed to go) to anything. It's not like he would miss me. I would go to the gym and sweat out the anxiety and have a nice night at home with my family, where I would hear all about the game.
The game started at 3. At 2:56 I had a call from The Husband. I didn't answer it, because I didn't want to let him know I was wimping out. He left a voicemail, which, of course, I listened to right away.
"Hey, just wondering if you're coming to the game. I just picked The Kid up from school and we're on our way to the court. See you there, I guess." Still, easy enough to wimp out. Until, as The Husband was hanging up the phone I heard The Kid ask, "Is she coming? Is she coming??"
Dammit. No wimping out now.
I threw on my coat, hopped in my car and headed to the game, a bundle of nerves all the way.
Once I got there, the small parking lot was full-up. Wait, there was a spot! The only spot left in the lot. It is, youguessedit, right next to The Ex's car. (Bullocks.) Park. Call husband to tell him I'm here.

Deep breath.


Deeeeeeeep breath.

He came outside to find me, warned me we'd have to walk by The Ex as soon as we got in the court. In we go.
Apparently, no one told The Ex I was showing up. This was immediately evident from her body language ( she looked like someone shoved an electrically charged rod up her poop chute).
Evil me cracked a small, discreet smile. I didn't know I could make her that uncomfortable!
Otherwise, we ignored each other and watched the game from opposite ends of the bleachers. The Kid's team got C.R.E.A.M.E.D. But they were good-natured about it, and I had a blast watching him. I really did.
After the game, he looked over and his face lit up. He apparently had not noticed me walk in.
"You made it!" he exclaimed as he bounded over.
"Wouldn't have missed it for anything!" I replied, "Now go see your mom." (Thanks to all the reading on other smom blogs, I was prepared to shoo him off to him mom first so she wouldn't get upset). He ran over to his mom, gave her hugs and kisses and then consorted with the various teenage hooligans in the hallway.
Suddenly, I heard my name called from down the hall. A sharp, female voice. I froze in place and looked in the direction of the voice. It was not an awkward confrontation, as I had assumed. It was one of The Kid's friend's moms, who I know primarily from The Kid but also from around town. We stopped to chat, which impeded my lightening-fast getaway, but it was nice to have positive recognition from another parent.
The Husband waited for me while The Kid walked outside with his mom. Once we were all outside, The Kid asked which car he was going home in. The Husband said whichever he wanted, and The Kid said he would go in mine. (Keep in mind, my husband's truck looks something like this, and my car, while old and beat up, is a bit more, um, normal-looking.) I was shocked that he would choose to come with me right in front of his mom, so I piped up, "Okay. I'm parked right next to mom." Just to be sure he was cool with it.
"Okay, let's go!" he said.
And so The Kid, The Ex and I walked to our cars. In a perfectly awkward silence. Because, you know, she and I don't talk. He said goodbye to his mom (he was at our house for the next few days) and we left. He was happy as a clam, oblivious to the dense tension surrounding the whole situation. Which made me happy. I mean, this is our problem, not his. And, judging from his actions it is not affecting him. Good for all of us!

The best part, for me, is that I don't have to wait for sporadic invites or invite myself to school events anymore. Last night, at dinner, The Kid asked if I was coming to his game today. I said I would but Dad wouldn't be able to go. He said, "At least you'll be there." Going to this game, such a normal occurrence for most parents, was a huge step. It broke down so many barriers.

I can't wait to go watch The Kid's team get creamed again today (they really aren't very good...).