The Calendar Mystery

Like this, but with more arm hangy-down.

How did this happen? Here we were, all settled as a family, and all  of a sudden we are racing around like crazy from one place to another. We don't sit down to meals together. We don't get reading time, nor play time either. HOW?

It's disingenuous of me to pretend that I don't know how we arrived at Point Crazy. It's all my fault, after all. Here is what happened, and you make the call:

Tai Kwando - We are thrilled that our kid is taking martial arts classes. I'm happy because she is learning balance and discipline; Dad's happy because in the future the kid can "kick some boy's ass."

Choir - Tiger Mother doctrine says that kids must have musical training. Natch, I have the least musically inclined child in the world. She has no interest - none. So when choir came along, with bells and whistles and her girlfriends, snagged that opp. Maybe she'll learn how to read music and thus understand math theory all the better. It could happen.

Scouting - More friends, more crafts, more cookies in a house already crammed to bursting with crafts and cookies. Still, did I mention the FRIENDS? It's all about a group of girls doing a structured activity together, in a world that celebrates cat fights in a beach house somewhere. Yup, sticking with the scouts.

Soccer - Now, here is where things start getting crazy. At this point, I should have said, "No, dear one, you already are involved in enough activities as it is. Let's concentrate on the others, shall we?" And then the thought flashes through my mind : What if Kid is the best female soccer player in the world???? And I wrecked her chance by not signing her up? (Of course, it could also be tennis, or gymnastics. Or curling.)

Grab your brooms! Who needs Quidditch?

Well, no. Actually the thought process was this : What if she has a really nice team, makes some great new friends, learns how fun a team sport can be, and gets good exercise and fresh air along the way? Do I really want to scotch all that?

So, here we are in the drive-thru, and now you know why. Mommy Guilt. Gets you every time.

Splashing into The Soccer Pool

Ohhhh, boy, here we go. Having avoided soccer for years now, my kid suddenly announced that she wanted to play.

We would have signed her up earlier, but Grandma, I mean My Daughter, would have none of it. Finally, the magic occurred AKA "A Friend of Hers Signed Up" and so, a few weeks later, we headed to the sports store to buy soccer stuff.

Yeah, I don't even know what soccer stuff means. I'd love to report that I was a soccer nut myself, but no. Sports and I don't get along. I'm allergic to anything that involves dribbling, or shooting, or running. 

So, when I walked into the huge echoing chamber of a sports store, I was absolutely clueless. Finally a kid of about 18 took pity on my deer-in-headlights look and helped me and my child pick out cleats, shin guards, etc etc.

And now we have practice AND a game on Saturday.

Here's the bottom line : I DO NOT CARE how well my kid plays. If she has a talent for the game, then great. If she doesn't, oh well. 

My goal for her this season is simple. Ready?

HAVE A GREAT TIME

And if she makes some friends during that time, fantastic. If she learns how to play, great. If she shoots a goal, I'll jump out of my skin and do backflips, but I'll probably do that even if she just manages to connect Cleat to Soccer Ball.

Wish us luck!