My Kids Attacked Me!

Bridget’s furthest left. I just want to smooch all these little faces!

I fancy myself a bit of an athlete.

There was that time I beat my dad in a 10K even though I walked part of it.

(Dad, you could throw a baseball 100 mph through the eye of a needle, but you were not … well … fleet of foot).

There was that pristine moment my sophomore year of high school where I made the Varsity volleyball team and could ace serves.

(Until my junior year, when some rogue bit of psychological neurosis made it impossible for me to serve over the net. I would like to say it’s because I grew breasts that threw me off kilter. Unfortunately, that was not the case.)

There was the freakish way I could could beat everyone in an arm wrestle, except for Steve Bast and Todd Shermer in the 6th grade.

(Todd and Steve, I let you win, I wanted no affront to your masculinity. Plus, I was boy crazy and you were both cute.)

So, imagine my surprise when I decided to participate in an impromptu scrimmage with Bridget’s Girls Under 10 soccer team at practice last night and discovered that I suck.

In my defense, the field was muddier than a wrestling match between Shanna Moakler and Octomom at Lucha VaVoom and I wasn’t wearing cleats.

But, each time I tried to pivot like the agile warrior I am, only my mind pivoted.

My body pretty much stayed in the same exact location.

Despite my suckery, I had a blast just running around with a bunch of little bloodthirsty girls.

When adults join them, everything gets very Lord Of The Flies. They just desperately want to knock our blocks off and I find that life affirming.

I did manage to dodge a few balls to the head, so that was good.

Today was Bridget’s last soccer game of the season and they lost. They lost a lot. They tied a few. And they won two, or three?

But the games were mighty battles and they left the field a Band of Sisters while all we parents wept and bled and shrieked ourselves raw on the sidelines.

There are days the picking up, and dropping off, and tying cleats, and feeding mouths, and remembering shin guards, and bringing orange slices, and girding the child up after a bitter defeat gives me the Life-Is-Mundane whirlies.

But, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. 

18 thoughts on “My Kids Attacked Me!”

  1. My Rose: One of my twins, Fannie, scratched her tongue on something or other. I puckered up to kiss her, and at the last second, she stuck her tongue out and down, so I ended up kissing the flat top of it. It sounds disgusting, but was actually really adorable. I think I really did make it feel better for her, too.

    And now I know that toddlers have rough kitty tongues. It made all the bedtime screeching seem like an aria.

    1. Oh that little honey bunny. There’s nothing better than a mushy kiss from a little one. When Clare was a baby she would grab my ears and pull me toward her and try to eat my nose. Very slimy but so sweet too.

    1. I just started letting my 10-year old sit shotgun when I drive and it’s changed the power in our relationship. She’s a horrible backseat driver suddenly. Turn here, turn there, slow down.

  2. My Rose, is tied to what I’m growing through this week not just today. I started taking classes for the newborn and I’m flooded with information. But to feel her kick while I’m learning to take care of her, just fills me with so much love and want to be the best mom I can to her.

  3. This looks like so much fun. Girls soccer is really not the thing here. It’s hard to find a team – for the moment my daughter is happy with dance, but I bet she would love soccer.

    Now her mama never claimed to be agile . . . 😉

  4. I am so NOT athletic. I think sweating is annoying. My kids both played sports consistently while they were growing up – my daughter played softball and my son played baseball, then football in high school and this year at a junior college. Had I ever gotten out and played anything with either of them, they would have run shrieking from the field – that’s how bad I am. Kudos to you for getting out there!

  5. My day has just started, so my rose so far has been able to drink my coffee (at least most of it) LOL I’m the least sporty girl too, even though I played volleyball.

  6. You’re so lucky to be able to share sports with your daughter. I am a zip as far as athletics are concerned and regret not having developed any kind of skill set when I was younger. But I am a good fan!

  7. My rose: Watching Full House with my daughter tonight. She had never seen the show in all its cheesy 80’s glory and I secretly enjoyed Uncle Jesse and his sexy Greek mullet, leather vest, and turquoise tshirt. Oh yeah baby.

  8. I turned into the Great Santini when I coached A’s basketball team. And I suck at basketball. At any age.

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