Shaune works on Saturdays so it's just me lugging the kids out to the field. Which means I bring a ton of refreshments to occupy Naveen. There's very little shade. I bring water, milk, popsicles, strawberries, grapes, bananas, crackers, cheese, boiled eggs, and today, leftover hamburgers from last night's dinner.
I like to do my part.
Which was my theme today when I was giving Number 3 pep talks on the sidelines.
"Your team needs you, honey, why don't you get out there and help them?"
"Mommy, can I have some strawberries?"
"Yes, you can, right after you join Leah in goal. Look, she's all alone, she could use a team mate!"
"Mommy did you bring my Buzz Lightyear?"
Before kids, Shaune and I decided one thing about parenting that doesn't make me cringe and want to go back in time and slap myself. We pinky swore that we wouldn't hound our kids about what they wanted to be when they grew up. We wanted them to know that they were already somebody and that was enough. Instead we'd try our best to guide them toward careers and interests that would allow them to lead happy and productive lives.
I'm just as shocked as you are considering how long it took us to get our acts together and grow up. It must have been that one day we weren't hung over.
Anyway, I'm trying to keep that in mind on Saturdays at soccer. I'm doing my best to remember that Deaglan's three. It's his first year of sports. There's no danger of him letting us down; there are no professional athletes in our histories that we know of.
It's a good thing to remember when after snacktime your kid packs up and lets you know he's ready to go.
"But honey, we haven't played the game yet."
Hmmm, I wonder if David Beckham's mother ever faced these issues.
I think these pictures speak for themselves. I cropped alot of them because I didn't get permission from the other parents to include their little players. There's really nothing like watching three year olds on a soccer field.