I took the camera to soccer this morning, to capture some shots of our little player, since next week is the last game. There will be a celebration with pizza after. For Deaglan this will be in keeping with the theme of his first year of organized sports.
Food.
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?"
Sigh.
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.
No really.
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.
I was feeling a bit smug at Deaglan’s soccer game on Saturday.
The mother on the patch of grass next to me was close to her breaking point because her two Under Fivers* refused to play. It was quite possibly the hottest day we’ve had this year and her two rascals wanted nothing to do with running or kicking. In a low angry voice she threatened, one-by-one, to take away each of the day’s allotted treats.
“If you don’t get out there and play,” she hissed, taking a break from her Blackberry, “there will be no licorice.” The two didn’t budge.
“I’m not kidding, absolutely no cake today!”
The older one had the younger one in a head lock.
“I swear to God, if you don’t get out there for at least five minutes, I’m taking away the jube-jubes and you can forget about McDonald’s.” She glanced at me sheepishly.
Her boys were now taking turns of body slamming each other.
Oh I know what you’re thinking. I am so going to be there in a couple of years.
But Deaglan also refused to stay on the field. He told me early on, very matter-of-factly, “Mommy, it’s too hot for soccer.” Besides he was giddy with the thrill that we had brought the snack for everybody (it was our turn) and his sole focus was in letting the coaches and his teammates know that we had brought bananas, granola bars and cold water. He perched himself atop the cooler, consulting me every few minutes to determine how close to snack time we were getting.
I was feeling pretty self-congratulatory for relaxing, for not getting worked up that my kid wasn’t living up to my soccer-mom dreams.
The universe knocked me off of the high horse I was riding though.
While waiting to see the doctor this morning, Deaglan and I were perusing the kid’s books. The only other person waiting to see the doctor was a lone woman. Her cell phone vibrated and she decided to take the call outside. A few minutes later she came back into the waiting room.
Loudly and to my sickening horror, my three year old asked, “Mommy, why is that man coming back in here?”
See what I mean? I’m back to my humble self.
We went to the Detroit Zoo last weekend. It was brutally hot and we found ourselves enjoying the indoor attractions. While there were at least twenty real live snakes about four feet from where we sit, Deaglan couldn't get enough of this fake one.
*Deaglan plays in the U5 division - under five.
I'm joining Shell today and pouring my heart out.
