Soccer.
When we heard that a few of her preschool friends were signing up, we asked her if she wanted to do it. The World Cup frenzy was soon going on and although we didn't watch tons of it, we thought she knew (after practicing a few times) what she was in for.
But the first practice, a week before school started, was a little overwhelming.
She cried almost the entire first practice.
And I was so surprised.
This from the girl who jumped on a waterski a summer ago and blew my mind with her courage and bravery. But somehow, this was a lot to take in.
So we did lots of hugging and shoving her back out there, hugging and wondering why it was so hard, and finally, the practice ended. Whew.
The coach was so wonderful with her. Taking her hand from time to time and doing drills "with" her and encouraging her along. I was so thankful for him. I've come to find out that Coach Chris is a single dad who's daughter is on our team. He gets 5 year old girls. Whew again. Prayer answered.
So, by the second practice, it was much less weepiness and much more "Okay, mom, I'll go but I'll miss you" -- and soon enough she was doing "butt kickers" to warm up (it was a form of bribery to say, "let's not be late! you don't wanna miss saying butt for the butt kickers!")
And she stood on a cone alone by practice number three.
And she ran and didn't prance like a pony.
And actually started to keep up.
And dribble.
And chat post-practice with pals.
And have to tell little brother that it wasn't yet his turn (next year!) "but look at my cool socks."
The first game was a bit tough at first. Daddy was out of town and this was the overall attitude that surfaced. It was based in fear again -- of the unknown of how it would all go. But God had it so that we had the game on the exact same part of the massive field where she practiced and her coach was the referee and all felt fairly normal. And there was no complaining about the uniform. Can you believe? Another answered prayer.
Soon it was pre-game huddle time.
And some grass picking for our sweet number 7.
I was expecting to have to have her sit with her team if she refused to play,
preparing myself for crying and not being "allowed to sit with us" since she committed to be a part of this adorable team.
But she played. The whole time.
And had an amazing throw in (her speciality seeing that she still runs away from the ball during the game - I'm afraid my offensive genes have mutated)...
And before I knew it, it was "2,4,6,8..." (how are they still doing the same cheer from 35 years ago?)
and the game was over.
Introducing....The Shakers! (smiling girl third from right)
And the best part of the game?
Nope, not the 5 to 2 win.
The snack pack she got afterward. Gummies, a Capri-Sun and cheddar bunnies.
Oh me. Oh my.
Next up : encouraging the eye of the tiger and kicking the ball into mommy's shins to build up some aggressive soccer skills. We'll keep you posted.
But for now : success = no tears.
And that makes mama happy.
1272. grandma and papa coming to the game
1273. cheering and the soccer culture
1274. watching her grow
1275. getting a view into how to respond differently
