Pearly Words of Chaos: Becoming a Soccer Mom: Embracing the Ultimate Cliché

Ok folks it's finally time to inject some upbeat, fun into this blog as I have been suffocating you with my downtrodden melancholy emotions of late. Debbie Downer is taking a break and I am onto my newest endeavor...becoming a soccer mom! I know I hear gasps and jaws dropping everywhere and you could all be correct in voicing your distain. I myself am still swirling the idea around in my head and it seems to be so surreal. I never thought I would become a soccer mom. Don't get me wrong, I have high hopes that any offspring I produce will enjoy extra circular activities and sports in general but there's a lot behind the whole soccer mom thing.

When my mom friend first brought up the whole idea of enrolling our kids into a soccer class I nearly fell off my chair from laughing so hard. The idea was truly hilarious to me. Then, the crafty Pintrester in me got to thinking...puffy paint shirts, sparkly posters, a full blown snack table, and I could finally use those folding chairs we got from our wedding. I mean a real dream come true! To shed light on my back story for a moment, I played basketball for a number of years (from when I was 10 until I was in college) and my family was not a sports family. To put it into perspective, my father brought books to my games to read as he sat on the bleachers and my mom never came to a single game. I get that it wasn't there thing. So once again the theme of over compensating for my lack of support as a child has kicked into full gear and I am determined to get to as many games/ practices as I can wearing the most obnoxious outfit I can find and waving around a life sized cardboard cut out of my child (no really.) Hiring her a brass band for such occasions has also come to mind.

So, with thoughts of bullhorns and glitter dancing in my head I signed the paperwork and Saturday we found ourselves on a field with about 15 other toddlers ready to go. The thing of it was, Emma's was ready to go...as in go in any direction other than what the instructor was instructing. Keep in mind I didn't have (and now more than ever don't have) any real expectations for this whole soccer thing but I thought she might at least make it through a few of the exercises. To be fair, it was over 80 degrees out and I was there solo (hubs had to work) so I ended up running around the field for 45 minutes trying to get Emma to at least kick her ball. I mean I got her the most colorful ball I could find and still she didn't seem to interested. In all honesty, not to many of the other kids were getting into it either but it was the fist class. Looking back on the whole scene, it was a bunch over overly excited parents running around after their toddlers so at least I was in good company. I am looking forward to next week when 1. It isn't so hot. 2. My husband will be there. He seems to be able to get Emma to focus better than I can. I tend to let her have her space and do her own thing.

So here's to next week and the possibility of getting to set up my snack tent and run to kinkos to assemble ridiculously large posters! With that I leave you with the only pictures I was able to capture while running around in the almost 90 degree weather...