I'm a Soccer Mom now.
I know, it's awesome, right? I can go out and get that soccer ball decal that goes on the back of my SUV, right?
|I think this one is more "me".|
I mean, I already have the Soccer Mom "uniform". The UGGS, the furry North Face jacket (or shiny patent leather Dansko's depending on how muddy the fields are) and the trendy duffel filled with shin pads, cleats and water bottles.
I'm rocking the Soccer Mom role.
Now, soccer for 5 year olds in our town, is on Saturdays at noon (yes, RIGHT in the middle of the day, so it completely interrupts anything you may have planned). They have a 20 minute practice followed by a half hour game. It's 4 on 4, co-ed, small net, no score-keeping. So, totally like professional soccer.
My kids were (and still are) a bit slow to warm up to it. We have
been such perfect parents done such a bang up job at raising our kids so far, that the thought of taking the ball from the other team is naughty to them. Kudos to us for rocking the whole raising-good-kids thing, but this does not bode well for raising future Beckhams. Little Miss Bad-ass steals the ball from one of my kids, and they just let her do it (awww, what gentlemen!) They have the opportunity to steal the ball from someone else, and don't. And forget it if someone falls down, the game stops, and everyone stares at the poor kid who fell down, wondering if they were at fault and if they are OK. It's adorable.
|Action shot! How cute? And don't be fooled by that net in the background. Ours is about as big as my kid.|
So we have had issues with one son getting out there to play. He gets nervous, which why wouldn't he? He's never played a team sport before, and now here are 8 kids all jammed around a little ball, kicking each other, trying to steal it from each other while some crazy-ass Soccer Mom is
screaming cheering on the sidelines (yah, you can read that as, I am screaming on the sidelines).
But I can't help it. It's so exciting. My little boys, out there in their way-too-big uniforms, playing a real sport. One has it nailed (except that he is easily distracted and is usually looking around, wondering what the wooden thing is up in that tree, wondering where his classmate Julian is, wondering what's for lunch), and I know the other one likes it when he isn't all up in his head, thinking about how scary it is.
So this past Saturday started out as they normally do. One son starts out nervous, but then gets into it and is fine. The other son clings to Daddy, crying that he doesn't want to play. (And did I mention that Chris has to run up and down with Nervous Son to get him to play. Yup. True Story) The coach (who is a freakin' Saint, by the way. I can't think of anything more frustrating than "coaching" 4 and 5 years olds in soccer. During one game, my son and another little girl refused to play, and one kid was literally laying in the middle of the field) tries to get him involved by letting him lead drills, use the special ball, paying him one million dollars - anything. Nervous Son isn't fooled.
Nervous Son gets out there and starts having fun. He's smiling. He's running. He's kicking. It's awesome. "Practice" ends, and the "game" begins. And guess who turns into David Freakin' Beckham?
Yup, Nervous Son.
He breaks away and scores the first goal.
So as this breakaway is happening, this crazy ass Soccer Mom is jumping up and down, (along with Crazy Soccer Nana) on the sidelines, screaming like it's the Patriots in the Super Bowl and I'm Gisele (sorry, I don't even know what the soccer equivalent to the Super Bowl is...I'm a new Soccer Mom). I will admit, I am tearing up behind my sunglasses, because 15 minutes ago, my son was crying that he didn't want to play, and now he's the hero, and will probably end up the biggest soccer star in the world.
OK, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself, but you get my drift.
Fast forward through the game, and here is Nervous Son, scoring his 4th goal. Yup. That's my boy. My other son scored one too. And even though we don't "keep score", we totally kicked the other teams' ass. And not for nothing, but my kiddos can run! They're fast! So I'm thinking track, football, soccer scholarships....I mean, how the hell else will I be able to afford 2 college tuitions at once?
Now....the fact that Crazy Ass Nana and I are the only ones cheering, is not lost on me. I mean, I know these are little ones, but does that mean we don't cheer? My kids loved it! My thought is, I have to cheer like a fool now, while they aren't totally embarrassed by me (which, for the record, won't stop me in the future).
I would be writing a post about this annoying Soccer Mom, and her loud, cheering self. I know. I am probably so annoying. I really don't mean to be, I just honestly get wrapped up in it. And in my defense, I cheer for all the kids, both teams. How can you not? They're little peanuts out there, with little tiny peanut cleats, and a number on their back. It's the cutest thing ever.
|I mean, c'mon. How cute are these kiddos?|
I'm sure many of the other parents have older kids who have already played some sport. They're probably a bit "over" the whole competitive pre-school sport thing. I get it. I even get why they were staring at me while I jumped up and down like someone who just spun $1.00 on the Showcase Showdown on the Price Is Right. But whatever. My shy guys are scoring goals and I'm happy about it. Chris and I keep talking about what lunatics we will be when they're older and there's more at stake during games.
Yah, it won't be pretty.
It's just how it's going to be. Once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader. Don't make me bust out my uniform. I'll climb right up onto Auntie Beckie's shoulders, just like back in the day.
I'm just sayin'.....
You guys have cheered me on...right up to number 50 on Top Mommy Blogs! You rock! Can I bother you for another click please? You're the best! GO NEUTRONS!!!!