Tag: soccer mom

I Am THAT Soccer Mom

On By Doser3In Dreaming of Mommyhood - GeneralLeave a comment

I embarrass myself. I embarrass my husband and I’m sure if my son understood the emotion of embarrassment, I would embarrass him as well. It’s not intentional, but it just happens. Almost like losing my patience isn’t intentional…it just happens, but stand by for a moment as I pat myself on the back after last night.

Ugh, groan, reaching… with… my… left… hand… while… typing… with… my… right, eek, oh, there we go. A good pat on the back. Now, back to full speed typing as I explain why I’m giving myself a pat on the back.

Before we go any further, I should preface this blog post with the following statement: I am a competitive person by nature. I compete against others who are better than me and others who are worse than me. I compete with myself. I compete with the opposite sex. The only person, or type of person, I don’t compete with is a child. I’m a realist and I think that would be doubly embarrassing on all fronts as most children can beat me (even mentally). SMH.

Davey’s first soccer game, I realized that I came off as a bit too pushy, maybe a bit too competitive. I was the only parent, not mom, but parent, who was yelling (yes, yelling) at her son to kick the ball, to get into the game, to do something! When I say “yelling” I don’t mean that I was berating Davey, kicking him around, or mentally brow beating him. My yelling consisted more of, “come on, Davey! You can do it. Just kick the ball. No, don’t kick it that way. Go get the ball. Don’t just stand there.”

Kicking the ball

I can only imagine what the other parents thought of me. I know what my own parents thought of me. They were there at the game to watch and were quick to put me in my place. “It’s just a game,” they said. “He’s only two,” they remarked. And they’re right. What do we, or I, get out of Davey winning a soccer game at the age of two? NOTHING! So, I decided to attempt to “86” my competitiveness for his next game, which was last night.

Refusing to play

Now, here’s why I’m patting myself on the back. Even though my child sat down in the middle of the field while others kicked the ball around him. I didn’t yell. I sat in my chair and took pictures. When Davey wanted to run onto the other field to play. I didn’t yell, although I did hide my face in embarrassment. When he refused to “share” with others, I just rolled right along with the flow. I tried my best to mimic the behavior of the other moms and parents by just sitting back and enjoying the comical entertainment known as 2 & 3 year old co-ed soccer.

Sitting on the field.

I don’t want to be that mom and I’m working hard to change my perspective. So what if he Davey wants to run away onto the other fields? He’s two!!!!!! His behavior in that respect is not indicative of my parenting abilities, which has been my true worry. He’s two!!!!!! He’s a boy. He’s going to run and explore.

Hanging out in the goal

We didn’t win the game last night, but who cares! And Davey’s behavior seemed to rub off on another little boy, but who cares! The thing I should be and am most concerned with is did my child have fun? YES! He’s a happy boy, a sweet boy, an intelligent boy, and a loving boy. Once again allow me to pat myself on the back.

He is The New Clint Dempsey

On By Doser3In Dreaming of Mommyhood - GeneralLeave a comment

Last night marked Davey’s first foray into a team sport. He’s not three for another month and technically he’s not supposed to play until his three, but being the aggressive, fighting mother that I am, I fought to get him into the fall soccer league at the Y.

Yesterday started out much like any other day. We ate breakfast, got dressed, and went to the Y for my morning workout. When we pulled into the parking lot, the employees were busy setting up the toddler nets and spraying painting the freshly mowed fields. Davey’s comment, “they’re getting it ready for meeee.” And yes, he did draw out that “me”. Adorable, I know!

Warm Up

After leaving the Y, nothing more was said about soccer. I suppose it was just another thing that flitted out of his mind as he moved onto something else. Me? Not the case. I was excited all day. I practically couldn’t even eat as I watched the clock tick down and I ran through the check list of things I would need to bring. With each passing hour, this thought came into my head, “I’m a soccer mom.” How exciting!

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I’ve looked forward to a day like this for quite some time. I’ve dreamed about the activities Davey would participate in when he got older, whether that be sports, academics, music, or whatever his heart desires. I’ve become lost in thought about how I would (and will) shuffle him through to all of his activities. I haven’t stressed about it, but instead I’ve longed for it. I’m not sure why.

As the hour of his first practice arrived, I put him in his soccer gear, and watched as he ran around the front yard in his cleats proclaiming to me, “mommy, I’m going to be the fastest.” Way to set a goal, my son! I’m proud of you. When my husband pulled into the driveway, the boys and I were already loaded into the truck and ready to go. Was I nervous? For the first time, YES!

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I panicked for a few minutes about how well he would fit in with the other kids. I worried that he wouldn’t pay attention to his coach, or that he would want to sit with me, or that he would become too aggressive. All of my worries were completely unfounded. Not only is my boy a natural athlete (something he gets from his father, not me), but he’s also a true team player.

He scored three goals. The coach commented on his strong leg and how well he runs (dribbles) the ball. Atta boy, Davey! He stretched with the kids, cheered his teammates on when they scored, and even refused to shove a little girl back when she shoved him. I’m a little torn on that as I don’t want him to just stand by idly while other kids beat up on him, but I am proud that something is seeping through with my teachings in that we don’t hit or shove others.

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All in all, last night was a huge success. I’m pleased with Davey and how well he did for an hour. And as a side note…I fought for my baby to get into the fall season and his attention span is better than some of the other three and four year olds and HE’S THE BIGGEST ON HIS TEAM. I shouldn’t be so shocked about that, but I am considering the fact that he’s surrounded by kids a year older than him (some almost 2), and he’s so tall.

Time will tell just how well he’ll do, so until next week we’ll just bask in the glory of the huge accomplishment from last night.

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