The rumors you have heard are true…I don’t know a damn thing about you. You see, this mama played just about every other organized sport out there, including collegiate volleyball. But, you? Soccer? No, not so much. Look, it’s nothing personal, it’s just the truth. Yet here we are, forced to be friends all because Kiddo A has decided to give you a try.
I have to admit, when I hit “submit” to register my little guy for your team I felt overwhelmed and scared by the twice-a-week commitment. Deep down, I knew that you were hoping the final score would be Soccer = 1, Chelse = 0. Well, I have news for you! After kissing my fall free time goodbye and coming to terms with the fact that the boy who made me a mom is big enough to actually ASK for you, I got to training.
You see, Soccer, I mom so hard that I’ve already hit the play books. I’ve been studying and I now know all I need to in order to survive the next few months with you. Did I buy cleats and shin guards for Kiddo A? Sure, but that’s the novice stuff. (Plus, I have friends who have already played you, and other people have posted plenty of videos revealing you for the true game you are.)
Here’s the real deal, Soccer: it’s absolutely no coincidence that a full bottle of wine fits in my Camelbak water bottle. (Yes, it’s Daddy D’s water bottle, but mind your own business.) You can bet your goalpost that I’ll be packing two water bottles each game: one to hydrate Kiddo A with water and one, well, to quench my own thirst.
Next, sharing food is not only a thing, but a requirement for your regular small people games?!? Ha! I laugh in your face, Soccer. If there’s anything I’m amazing at, it’s sharing delicious edibleness! Trust me, I’m not too worried about those little players replenishing their energy source after just running it off, but it’s my job to bring snacks and share? Yeah, I’m pretty sure I have that one handled. There will be plenty of chocolate, cheese and fruit to pass around outside of the corner flags!
Furthermore, I’m a tough Wyoming gal. You think that it’s funny to run your season during the beginning of some of our coldest months, don’t you? Please, Soccer, you’ve got nothing on the slopes I’ve hit in Colorado, Montana, or Teton Village after a night out in Jackson Hole! If you think I care how I’m going to look in my full ski gear on the sidelines, you’ve got another thing coming…AND I’ll be dry and warm!
I also found out one of your dirty secrets, Soccer. This may hurt a little, so brace yourself. I now know that when a bunch of 4-year-old shorties gather on your
green, grassy brown, straw-like field, it is mass chaos. I’ll be watching missed kicks, stray balls, uncontrollable crying, and running around in circles…headless chicken style. It sounds like all I need to know is how to cheer for my baby and get really excited when our team makes it an entire game without a single breakdown. Done. I’ll be the MVP because that’s my life…every…single…day.
Lastly, you know I have a mama, right? She has already promised to sit beside me in all of my ridiculous soccer mom glory; the same way she spent countless hours in bleachers for me long ago. She’ll help set out camping chairs and remind me to watch my mouth. Most importantly, Soccer, she’ll laugh uncontrollably at the situations you present for me and my kiddo. So, the joke’s on you!
Let’s raise a Camelbak, Soccer! I’m going to kick your butt while keeping mine happy as hell and warm. Game on, my friend, game on!
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