Updated: Dec. 26, 2015
Originally Published: July 26, 2015
Growing up, I never really played tennis—in any structured capacity, at least. Sure, I had a few lessons, and my brother and I would occasionally grab our rackets and hit the park courts, but let’s just say my technique could use a lot of improvement. I learned that lesson the hard way when I swung my racket with gusto, missed the ball entirely, and instead, thwacked myself right in the forehead. To this day, there’s a small scar under my eyebrow as a reminder. I was too embarrassed to admit to my parents how it happened, but it was a lesson learned!
So, when my daughter expressed an interest in taking tennis lessons, I seized the moment. I took her and her younger sister out for a practice session. Drawing from my childhood experiences, I was confident I could guide them on how to hold a racket properly and impart wisdom like, “Aim for the ball, not your face.”
I started with a lot of explanations, but before long, I noticed their eyes glazing over. They were eager to get to the action! So, we began with some fun drills, balancing balls on rackets and bouncing them. The resulting misses were almost cartoonish in their execution.
I vowed to avoid being the overbearing parent pushing my kids too hard in sports. I wanted them to learn at their own pace, yet I found myself growing impatient as I wished they could grasp the skills more quickly. But taking a deep breath, I recognized how much joy they were experiencing, even with their slow progress.
My younger daughter soon lost interest, opting to practice on her own, using unconventional methods to hit the ball over the net and chase it down. This left me free to focus on my older daughter, who seemed determined and ready to improve. Having played a bit at camp, she discovered a newfound affinity for tennis—an important milestone for a girl who had never shown much interest in organized sports until now. My wife and I were committed to encouraging her exploration without pressure, and this was our chance to support her newfound passion.
I positioned her just inside the “T,” a term I wasn’t quite sure I understood. I showed her how to get into a “ready” position, knees bent, racket poised. I tossed her a couple of balls—one went into the net, and another sailed too high and far. But then, something marvelous happened. I began gently hitting the ball to her, and she made contact! Progress was in the air.
Then came the moment of magic—a perfect return! I was caught off guard, fumbling to hit it back, and she volleyed again! I wasn’t prepared for this second hit and found myself sending the ball straight into the net. But my daughter was beaming with pride; she understood she had just achieved a significant milestone. Having played a game called Jail at camp, where successful returns kept you in the game, she realized she had just scored her first point in tennis!
We continued hitting the ball back and forth, but we never quite recaptured that initial success. After a few more rounds, we decided to call it a day and gathered the stray balls scattered around the court.
“How did that feel?” I asked her as we walked back to the car. She looked up at me with a beaming smile that melted my heart.
“Proud,” she said simply.
Teaching my daughter tennis turned out to be a delightful experience, filled with learning moments—and not just for her. It was a reminder of how important it is to nurture interests and share experiences as a family. If you’re interested in learning more about self-insemination methods, check out this informative article on home insemination kits or visit Make a Mom for expert advice. For comprehensive information on intrauterine insemination, you can refer to this excellent resource from the Mayo Clinic.
In summary, my experience teaching my daughter tennis was not just about strokes and serves; it was about fostering a connection and encouraging her interests with patience and joy.