Now for a sidebar mini-soapbox moment.  The children – all of them – were delightful and endearing through triumphs, tears, and potty emergencies; for the most part, so were the parents.  But a very few parents were not so endearing, especially those whose constant disregard for rules made our main objective – getting the little ones back and forth safely and quickly – much more difficult.  My proposed solution to this problem: any parents who fall into this category have to volunteer for at least one round.  Perhaps when they discover firsthand how parental interference, no matter how well-intentioned, compromises the children’s safety, they’ll become more respectful of the process.

The upside to working in the K-1 section is that it moves very fast, with most games over within an hour.  The downside to working in the K-1 section is that it moves very fast, with three hours’ worth of activity consolidated into that first hour (or so it seems).  That initial hour becomes a blur of racing, chasing, comforting, congratulating, always with a watchful eye on the side doors, looking for any little chess players moonlighting as escape artists (that’s why it’s particularly rough when parents continually open doors to look in – wee ones can easily slip out super-fast and unnoticed). 

Luckily, I was not alone in my duties.  When the other worker assigned to the K-1 room didn’t appear, my Michigan friend, Loraine Webster, gamely stepped in to assist for the entire tournament.  It was the perfect – though hectic – chance for us to catch up with each other (between darting and dashing).  

In general, I prefer being separated from the main event because whenever I’m working in the tournament hall, my natural wolf-mother tendency is to watch Nicky, looking for clues to his game’s progress through his body language.  It makes me way too tense, and my superstitious side believes Nicky somehow senses my tension (negatively) from across the hall.  Yet the K-1’s different rounds schedule (beginning either a ½ hour before or after the main tournament) meant I couldn’t walk in with Nicky for some critical rounds.  This became particularly tough (for me, not Nicky) once Nicky slid into the top slot on Saturday and stayed there all day after number one seed, Sam Schmakel, drew his Round 2 game.  Naturally, I wanted to be in the room before the round started to encourage Nicky, hug him, ruffle his hair, get others to take tons of photos of him sitting at Board 1 (my camera chose this weekend to die, and my cell phone has no flash) – you know, basically embarrass Nicky publicly as much as possible in as short a time frame as possible.  Of course, Nicky managed just fine without my hovering presence; it was simply my own heart that felt heavy for missing his moment(s) at the top.

 
Blue light special: Round 1 in the main tournament hall.

Loraine’s son, Kyle, had an outstanding tournament, taking seventh place in an extremely challenging 10th grade field.  Nathan fought through some hard games, too, finishing first in the 11th grade 1400-1599 category.  So maybe there’s something to be said for stepping back and trusting that our older children know what to do.  I’m slowly and begrudgingly accepting the fact that perhaps I want Nicky to need me much more than he actually needs me (sad face).