The unlucky clover

Sarah has been scoring in soccer. Like crazy. When I am not there.

Dad takes her – score. Friend takes her – score. Me – not so much.

She plays in a rec team and the rule is wear red bring white. Or wear white bring red. This has been the rule for oh, I don’t know….five years. We show up Saturday. Sarah in red, team in white. White…at home.

Fortunately, the game was a half a mile from the house so I turned around and got the appropriate jersey.

I got there and they were three minutes into the game. Sarah had borrowed a white long sleeve t-shirt and had jumped right into the game. And of course scored. In the first three minutes, wearing the wrong shirt.

It clearly isn’t the clothes that make the man. Or the mom that makes the game.

Terms of endearment

Don’t you love little kidisms?  You know, those adorable little words and phrases that don’t have any proper place in the English language but they are too cute to correct?

One of my new favorites:

Versing

v.  Versed, versing, verse

1. To occupy oneself in amusement, sport, or other recreation

2. To take part in a game
It took me a moment to comprehend it.  We had a soccer game this morning and Sophie was talking to her bestie.  Her bestie said “why are we versing this team again, we versed them last week”?
Last week the other team actually schooled them on the game of soccer, we lost – a lot to nothing.
It turns out that the practice that occurred on Wednesday, otherwise known as the most chaotic two hours of my life, was worth attending.  It also turns out that it was a good thing we got to verse this team again because this time the little grammar butchers prevailed!

I don’t wanna do soccer

Throwing ourselves wholeheartedly into the over complicated life. I was going over the upcoming weekends events and Sophie overheard me mention that she would have a soccer game.

And then she whined really slowly, accenting every syllable “I DON’T WANNA DOOOOO SOCCER”.

Yeah Sophie. Me neither. It is recreation soccer, it cost a whopping 65 bucks and with two of you playing it certainly makes weekends harder.

But how about when I asked you if you wanted to play again you said NO? Hmmm?

I made her play and the first game was today. She had a blast and on the way home said she meant she didn’t want to play NEXT season. Note to self – don’t sign Sophie up for soccer next season. If I do she has to sign an agreement to play without whining.

Swim meet vs soccer game

Soccer Tournament

*  75 degrees and sunny – nice breeze
*  Haven’t opened book I brought during breaks in game – busy shooting the shit
*  Got an email with game times. Games last 45 minutes. No chance of missing the game.
*  Special area in park for open alcoholic beverages!
*  Two options for seating. Lay on a blanket in the grass or bring your own camp chair with footrest option
*  Food options – Chipotle close by.
*  Playing against better kids and losing.
*  Four hours, three hours of play time.
*  Bathrooms? Port A Potties

Swim Meet

*  98 degrees – air as thick as a brick
*  Haven’t opened book I brought during down time in meet (could have read three!) – busy shooting the shit
*  Ten dollar heat sheet. Memorized time line. Blink and you miss it.
*  Cocktails? You wish!
*  Two options for seating. Metal bleachers or bring your own camp chair and if you are lucky you will find a tiny square unfold it most of the way.
*  Food options – Chipotle close by. I research this.
*  Swimming against faster swimmers. Excited about this.
*  My kid is swimming one 30 second event in two hours.  Comes back two hours later, sits around for two hours and swims for 30 seconds again.  Glad it wasn’t 32 seconds.
*  Bathrooms? Every seat is socking wet. Does pool water kill pee germs?

Soccer Tournament and Swim Meet

Overpriced tie-dye t-shirts AND EVERYONE yelling KICK! Who knew?

I spent the morning at the soccer tournament and the evening at finals. It was a day filled with kids laughing, parents cheering, children succeeding and parents rejoicing. There are lots of crazy parents out there. Lucky for me I didn’t spend the day with any of them. It was a day filled with lifelong memories.

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What is your goal?

Sales and marketing for 11 years.  I like goals.  I like swimming.   I like goals in swimming.

The great thing about the sport of swimming is that setting goals is very easy, there is nothing, other than yourself, preventing you from hitting your goals – provided they are realistic.

Goals for Grace are easy.  She has A cuts?  Going for AA.  That is marked off?  How about AAA.  And then she ages up and it starts all over again.

Sophie is pretty easy too.  She wants to do the IM in the right order.  Swim 100 free without dying.  And she never wants to throw another shit fit again at a meet.  I’ll take that.  Love 7.

Sarah is a bit more challenging.  She is your solid, middle of the road swimmer.  She has yet to make a qualifying time for a big meet BUT she always swims her best and at the age of 10 has swam 500 free on several occasions.  Obviously without dying.

I was having a conversation with Sarah about her goals and she looks me square in the eye and says “I want to score more”.  Huh what?  Is she talking about summer swim where we compete against other teams?  And then I realize, she is talking about soccer.  Soccer season starts in a month.  She and Sophie both play Recreation Soccer twice a year.  Sarah also played indoor soccer this winter for the first time and really enjoyed it.

And there is more.  The bombshell.  She ONLY wants to play soccer, soccer all the time.  And summer swim too (aka the nachos and ring pops season).  Knife meets heart.

Sarah has come to the realization according to her that she isn’t that great at swimming.  Is that great?  What defines great?  Qualifying meets and medals?  Special teams and practices?  Tech suits?

Sarah is great at swimming.  Her technique is great, much better than older sister who kind of does look like a lawnmower in a pool (albeit a fast lawn mower).  She has consistently improved her times and the coaches adore her.  So what if she is middle of the pack.

I told her about the time when I was average, mediocre, middle of the road and dime a dozen.  It is called my whole life.  Aside from marrying a fantastic man and having three amazing children, I have never done anything incredible.  I haven’t invented or cured anything.  I have never protested or lobbied.  Never been published.  Haven’t seen the moon up close.  Never went to the Olympics (well, once as a spectator).  I have spent the better part of the last 42.75 years of my life just being.  And there isn’t anything wrong with that.  It certainly is no reason to give up.

One of the reasons I was never awesome at anything is because I gave up on everything I tried if I wasn’t the best.  I didn’t realize it at the time but now I do.  I don’t want that to happen to my girls.  But I also don’t want to be that mom that makes her kids do something they hate.  It is a real challenge figuring out if your kid means they want to quit when they say “I want to quit”.  In talking to Sarah, we decided that she really loves the competition of summer swim and at this point it is so close.  She agreed to keep practicing a couple of times a week just so she can do well this summer.  I am happy with that.  It is baby steps.  I am still not sure what she really meant but I suspect that if Sarah keeps at it, she will be a phenomenal swimmer.  She is just taking a different path to her personal victory.  My job is to keep her on it without forcing it.

By my own admission I am not the best parent.  But I am doing my best.  No quitting.  Can I have a ring pop?