Soccer anyone?

Who would think you could play soccer as a three years old? Well you can and it actually takes a lot of time and is very expensive. What have I gotten myself into? Not to mention my husband is the coach.

We have practice tonight at 6:30pm to 7:30pm. How will the kids handle it? It is cold and a little rainy around here so I can not imagine it being much fun. I am so sad that I will be not be there!!! But William shares all of his stories. So here is my favorite.

The other morning was mayhem at the soccer field William brought Alexis to the first day of practice to meet and greet thier new team The Barracudas. As he approached the kids on the field he saw all the other coaches wearing bright orange shirts, as he walked by them he was laughing to himself about how dorky they looked and how he never pictured himself as one of "those coaches." While meeting all the new kids and parents it was freezing so to warm them up he told his team to run up the field and back.

Immediately one of the mothers commented "I thought this was just a meet and greet" it was said in that tone that makes you feel like you are in trouble again with the principle. As the children began to run Alexis and her friend Leigh raced off, the one child that ran off the field crying was guess who's, she was now even less happy. One child seemed to be lost he was being lapped by our daughter and her friend so William just turned him around the other way. After practicing kicks on the field goal William called out to his team "Barracudas great practice" he heard an "oh my God this is not the stingrays?" The lovely mother that had all the problems was not even on his team. I think he let out a sigh of relief.

He stood talking to his team telling them about practices and games on Saturday's. Then a young lady approached with the coach shirts William said he felt a rush of excitement and reached for a shirt. He said he pulled the shirt on immediately it was not till a minute later he realized he was one of them.

I think all good parents turn in to one of them. You know the one, they have the bumper sticker that says "My daughter/son is a proud student of younameit school.", talking about potty training at a party as polite conversation, drinking a juice box when you are thirsty, turning on the radio and Barney's CD starts to play and you sing along, and the last movie you watched was Barbie's Fairytopia movie while wearing wings your daughter put on you.

So I guess being a dork for your children is worth it.

One of my fondest memories of my childhood is when my father coached my T-ball team. I remember practicing with him. He would throw a pop fly and I was supposed to catch it, key word is supposed. I remember once I was not paying attention and SMACK the ball hit me right in the bridge of the nose. I remember my dad laughing and making sure I was ok. I look forward to Alexis having memories of her father being her coach hopefully without the mishap of a ball to the face, but she is my daughter.