I think we’re finally starting to get some semblance of a routine around here. The Youngest Boy Snoodle still hasn’t started gymnastics but I believe all of our other extracurricular activities are scheduled and rolling along as planned. All three of the Little Snoodles decided to play soccer for the school team this year, which officially makes me a minivan driving soccer mom. Too bad I’m only thirteen years too late to be relevant. I’ve never been on the cutting edge of trends.
This was a new endeavor for all of us. K has always been athletic but he has never played soccer. And me? Well, we’ve covered this ground before. I just now realized that it should be blatantly obvious to anyone who even read that old post’s title that I’m not the player of many sports. Most people use the word “athlete” rather than “sports star.” Anyway, we were all clueless when it came time to buy soccer equipment. We had to call one of our best friends who coaches his daughter’s soccer team and he walked us through our shopping adventure at Academy Sports. It’s a good thing because I never would have thought to put the socks OVER the shin guards. Looks bulky and weird to me, but whatever.
The two youngest Snoodles are playing on a team together and their big brother is on another team. They all practice at the same time in the same place so for the last two Tuesday evenings I’ve stood on the sidelines and pretended I had a clue as to the appropriate cheers to yell during a soccer set game match. So far I’ve come up with, “Kick it!”, “Kick it the other way!”, and “Way to kick it!”
Actually, I know a little bit more about soccer than K does. I was actually in Italy for the 1990 World Cup. What I mean by that is I had a layover in Italy on my way to South Africa while the World Cup was being played and I saw it on the TV at the gate. This was back in the day where very few American kids played soccer so I was surprised at how seriously the rest of the world takes this sport. Our guests in South Africa were glued to their TVs and enjoyed making fun of our American soccer team. I still remember the joke that someone told every. single. time. we were together. Want to hear it?
What’s the difference between a tea bag and the American team?
The tea bag stays in the cup (Cup) longer.
Yeah. That was our reaction, too. It didn’t get any funnier the 2078th time we heard it.
The Little Snoodles seem to like soccer.
That’s the Princess in the middle of the picture. Here’s a picture of her biggest brother playing goalie:
Wait a minute! Let me get a closer look at that picture. Who is that in the background?
Could it be? I think that’s….why yes! It is! It’s his mother’s child! Searching in the grass for who knows what while his team practices on the next field! Maybe looking for daisies to make a daisy chain? I was so intent on taking Big Brother’s picture that I didn’t even notice Little Brother in the background until I downloaded the pictures.
To be fair, Youngest Brother and one of his teammates had a head-on collision. Some days it’s harder to “shake it off” and “cowboy up” than others and on this particular day, my boy decided to take himself out of the game for a little while and look for bugs. Eventually he decided to give it another go and his athletic ability has already surpassed any that I ever had or wished I had.
Saturday mornings in October will find The Snoodles playing and/or watching soccer. Maybe I’ll bring along piping hot Pumpkin Spice chai lattes while I yell encouraging things (yet to be determined) from the sidelines and discuss current events, such as whether or not we can fully support the idea of revisiting the 80s for fall fashion this year. Hmm. I think I might really enjoy being a soccer mom.