I'm a Soccer Mom

Well, it's official. I'm a true soccer mom (sans mini-van).

The soccer season started last week and my older son had his first game on Saturday. He looked so grown up in his uniform and cleats. I mean, I thought he looked so much older when I saw him off to his first day of school last week, but the shiny green jersey with the white #11 on the back - well, all his little boyness disappeared (possibly) forever.

He did great. It was organized chaos really, but he had lots of fun. It was great watching him interact with other kids and adults he didn't really know without my help. Time is flying by and even though I say I'm going to try and experience every moment, I find myself constantly amazed at how quickly things are changing and always feeling like I've missed so much.

But back to me . . . My son had practice tonight and I loaded up the car with water bottles, soccer ball, etc. and we headed to the field. He ran right out to his team when we got there and my younger son and I proceeded to kick the ball around off to the side. My little one got tired and so I went and got the two fold up chairs that I now keep permanently in the back of my car and it occurred to me - I have chairs in the back of my car; chairs to watch my son's soccer games and practices; I'm at soccer practice - I'm a soccer mom.

I looked around at all the kids running around, at all the parents on their blankets or sitting in their own woven, fold up chairs and I realized that I've become a "real" parent. Not that getting up in the middle of the night for feedings didn't count. Not that managing two kids in a toy store wasn't a wake up call. Not that doing homework didn't make me feel parentish. But tonight was one of those moments when it hit me like a ton of bricks. I am a parent - like my own parents who I still see through the eyes of a child - and it's crazy to think that I am that responsible, that old, that grown up.

So I came home and decided to have cookie dough ice cream for dinner. Where does that fall in the world of responsible parenting?

Kids Truly Are Great

While sitting eating my lunch today, I had the following conversation with my three-year-old son:

O: Mommy, can I have some of your chips?

ME: No. You already had some chips with your lunch. These are mine.

O: But I'm really hungry. Won't you share with me?

ME: No. You've had enough.

O: You should share. Trust me. It's what friends do.


Of course I gave him a couple . . . After I stopped laughing!

Big Brother or Strictly Safety?

I'm blogging over at The Soccer Mom Vote today, so click on over and check me out!!

Have a great Monday!!

Day Twenty Nine: Ups and Downs

I woke up today feeling much better. So did the majority of my family. So after three days of being cooped up indoors, we took a little respite outside after lunch. It was amazing. The sun was out. It wasn't too cold, although I insisted on staying in the sun as much as possible and I did have my hood up. My boys and I played tag and hide and seek and we had races . . . It was truly wonderful just to get some crisp, fresh air into our lungs.

No problems when it was time to go in. No arguments. No back talk (which has been a big problem for about the last week with my four year old.) We went upstairs, had a snack and settled down on the couch. Then about 3 p.m. things started going downhill. Nothing major, mind you. The usual chaos of having two young boys running around an apartment. An apartment above my landlords, by the way, so we try and keep the running and jumping to a minimum. But there is this "magic" hour every evening when they get a second wind of sorts and their energy can no longer be contained.

Tonight was no different and it was the noise more than anything that got to me. Sometimes it feels like a constant ringing in my ears where I can't even think straight. And tonight was one of those nights. No matter how many times I asked them to quiet down; No matter how many times I separated them - they just wouldn't settled down. And I got mad. I felt like I wanted to blow, but thankfully did not. All I wanted was a little quiet. Time to think. Time to just listen to the silence.

I've been home from work for about four weeks now and, as happens every winter, I realize that working for me isn't just about the money. (Although financially it is a necessity for us.) It's about getting some time outside of the house. It's about interacting with other adults. It's about doing something that doesn't include my children. It's about the quiet I experience when I drive to and from work. I enjoy working, even though often times I don't. Does that make any sense?

I finally got my older son to bed and my younger son came out on the couch with me and fell asleep on me as he usually does. While I clicked away looking for something to watch on TV, I happened upon a PBS show about families of soldiers who are deployed in Iraq, many of them several times for more than a year at a time. And as I watched these soldiers talk about their families; talk about missing their children; talk about how hard it was to know that whatever they missed while they were away they were never going to get back; talk about the difficult transition when they come home to reintegrate themselves into their family's routine; talk about their fears that their young children will forget who they are and actually be afraid of them when they come home - I stopped feeling so bad.

I'm one of the lucky ones. Not a revelation for me, but a necessary acknowledgement in my life tonight. I'm lucky that I get to spend time with my children. I'm lucky that they can come to me to make boo boos go away and that I can read stories to them before they fall asleep. I'm lucky to be able to see them everyday of my life, something many divorced parents don't get to do, and as much as I crave quiet and time away and solitude - someday I will miss the noise, the chatter, the wrestling, the back talk; someday I will miss my sons because they will no longer live with me and they will no longer need me in their everyday lives. I'm definitely one of the lucky ones.

I'm reminded of something I read some time ago in a parenting magazine, I believe. It was a quote that went something like this: "Some days feel like they will never end, but the years fly by in an instant." I'll try and keep that in mind . . .

Day Six: My Children

I love the days when my children impress me. Not that I don't have high expectations of them everyday, but I love those days when they go above and beyond.

Today, for instance, we dropped off my four-year-old at school and headed straight to the realtor's office. My husband and I are house hunting and we needed to sit down and sign some papers, go over some details, etc. etc. - Nothing a two-year-old would be interested in, but without a babysitter to leave him with his attendance was mandatory.

So there we were, for an hour, talking about things that didn't interest him in the least and I can happily report that he didn't act up once. He drew with his pen and paper, he looked out the window of the door at the secretary sitting outside the office, he asked a few questions, cracked a few jokes (and of course at the end of our meeting he deposited a nice present in his diaper which I had to take care of) - but not once did he yell, kick, scream, demand attention or that we leave. In fact, the realtor asked, "He's only two? I can't believe how well behaved he is." (She also pointed out several times how cute he was ... what can I say? She's right!)

This has happened a few times before - people outside the family complimenting me or my husband about our kids being well behaved - and it reminds me of my mother. My mother used to always tell us when someone complimented us for being well behaved and I remember feeling good about myself when she did. I also remember how proud of us she was and now I know how good she must have felt. It's always encouraging, and a great ego boost, when someone tells you you're doing a good job with your kids.

So today I am grateful for my children and the fact that I haven't totally screwed them up :)

I'm also grateful for the gingerbread man necklace my son brought home from school today. It's got lots of glitter, sparkles and cute little colored balls on it and he was so proud of himself for making it - I am, too!