Of course, as an open minded and enlightened parent, I never wanted to impose my own bookish-dorkiness onto my children. They are their own people, afterall. They are allowed to be athletic if they wish to be. They are even allowed to be popular and socially well-adjusted, if that seems important to them. Of course, it wouldn't be my first choice, but again, I'm highly enlightened and willing to accept it.
3 years of soccer. 1 spring of ballet, 1 of tumbling. That is how much of an enlightened and understanding mom I am. We have spent years now packing up the minivan with kids and water bottles and fold up chairs and blankets to spend our Saturdays at the sports park. We even have one of those pop up shade-thingies. I have become, if nothing else in this world, a bonafide Soccer Mom. I even have a bunch of those pictures-of-your-kid buttons to prove it... somewhere. I have them somewhere. I'm pretty sure. Cuz it turns out my full title is Outrageously Disorganized Soccer Mom and I can't find the buttons right now. Get off my back.
My kids play sports. They like it. In fact, sometimes they seem to LOVE it. But the thing is... they're not exactly super great at sports. I mean, they follow directions, they run, they look enthusiastic, and that's great and all, but... we're not holding a spot on the varsity squad, if you know what I mean.* Turns out they just don't have that fighting spirit, that competitive edge, the je no sais quoi that a kid really needs to, ya know, go for it. And no matter how many times we've cranked Eye of the Tiger on our way to a game and shouted "BLOOD MAKES THE GRASS GROW", that competitive nature has never blossomed.
But despite their lack of innate athletic ability, my kids still just friggin' LOVE sports. I mean I don't get it, I don't even really like it, but there we are. And because I love my children, I want to give them things they love. I know. That got gross. Sorry I got all mushy and gross. It shall not happen again.**
The problem is, every thing you do has a cost. Not just financial, but time. Opportunity. Freedom. Peace. Last year, we gave up church activities. We threw away lazy Saturdays. We walked away from family dinners. We gave it all up. For soccer. For friggin communist centric, 'Merica-hating, so-boring-I think-I-might-die SO-CCER. FOR REALS GUYS WHAT EVEN CHOICES ARE WE MAKING ANYMORE.
TIME OUT. Tonight, I had the pleasure of watching this little super hero play soccer.
And it was fabulous.
You do you, K man. You do you.
This fall, we're taking a break. Meaning, for the first time in 4 years, we just skipped soccer sign ups. Like, yeah, I knew when it was happening, NBD. I stayed home anyway. Despite what my kids wanted, despite the fact that I was hampering their chances of future soccer stardom.*** We skipped it. This fall, we're setting different priorities. And as it turns out, we have no time for 3-4 soccer practices a week, and games every Saturday. We have church obligations. We have family dinners to get to. We have Saturday mornings with pancakes and pajamas on the agenda, and we just can't miss it. Sorry, Soccer. Maybe we'll have time for you next year.
Oh, and one more thing. I actually FOUND those proud parent buttons. You're welcome, kids.
And yes, TECHNICALLY one of those pictures is 2 years old, and TECHNICALLY another one is actually just me from when I was a child, but still. BUT STILL, I say. Get off my back, I found what I found.
Hashtag Hero Mom.
*It should be noted that this is a particularly intense considering the fact that my children are homeschooled. So far, the Varsity Squad consists of our dog (SUPER athlete) and this really gutsy lizard we found in the bathroom one time. The kids are going to have to step it up if they want to join those elite ranks.
**That is a lie. I'm still gonna get gross. Learn to deal with it, Brah.
***Obviously, Soccer is a lame sport anyway. I'd toss my freedom and family time straight in the garbage if any one of them joined a friggin football team. Geez.