Preschool Sports

This year, we decided to sign The Taz up for Soccer.

It's what you do. I guess.

To learn how to play together.

To build a little bit of character.

To meet new friends.

But let's face facts, it's so she'll burn up her energy on the field

rather than tearing up our one piece of good furniture.

As we signed her up, I had visions of her running, sweating, panting,

and begging me to take her home for a nap.

 Kind of like these kids:

Our first game day, I got myself all pumped up with a pep talk.

You can do this Nikki. 

All those years (OK, two years) in high school volleyball prepared you

for this very moment.

And I did it.

My first successful french braids.

We got to the fields. 

Set up our chairs.

And prepared ourselves to watch our oldest tear up the field.

The only thing she tore up was the snack bag.

"Rylee, don't you want to go run and chase and kick the ball with your friends?"

"Uhm. Nah. I think I'll just stay in my chair."

"But Ry, don't you want to go test out your fancy kicking shoes. They make you super fast."

"Uhm. Nah. Do we have any more snacks?"

At this point, the game had started and the coach could see

we were having a hard time talking her into playing.

She suggested we come onto the field with her.

Apparently, the whole goal of preschool sports is

to have your child stay on the field without you

by the end of the season.



"OK Champ. Should we go together?"

The coach also said not to worry too much if someone doesn't read the rules and brings a dog along.

It can be very distracting.

She said an airplane flying above could stop the entire game for a minute.

I found myself getting distracted a time or two.

Near the end of the game, The Taz gained just enough confidence to kick the ball through some kids, and break away from the pack to score her very first goal.

The smile on her face afterward made me well up.

It was a good game.

Good Game

Good Game

Good Game