Monday, October 31, 2005

One Day A Year

My costume this year: Soccer Mom! I’m a very stereo-typical traditional SAHM still married to my first husband with a dog and a minivan, for crying out loud. Being a soccer mom is all that’s missing from my cul-de-sac life, but these damn kids just won’t cooperate. They both refuse to play soccer. Unless I adopt an eager-to-please little kid from a different gene pool, Halloween is going to be my only chance.

Lizzie has never been willing to even try soccer. She got her first taste of team sports by playing t-ball when she was five years old. There is nothing more kind & gentle within the world of sports than Kindergarten t-ball. They don’t even keep score. Everyone’s a winner! Ken was one of the coaches, along with a highly-sympathetic vegan yogi mom, but Lizzie still said the whole thing was “too competitive” for her and besides, there was also way too much running. After the high-pressure demands of t-ball Liz refused to try any other team sports, especially soccer which is chock-full of all the things she’d despised about t-ball with the added threat of actual physical contact.

Emily played a year of soccer when she was in first grade. Her team had two coaches, both named Dave. Serious Coach Dave tried to get the kids to play soccer, i.e., run a lot, kick the ball, and pay attention to the game. Goofy Coach Dave was Emily’s favorite part of soccer by far. He made some effort to encourage the kids to play soccer too, but he also did funny faces & noises and was just so much fun all Emmy wanted to do was goof around with him. She had to be returned to the field more than once during a slow game, having wandered off to see what Goofy Coach Dave was up to. She also enjoyed mingling around on the field, chatting with the goalie or whoever else she could find available from either team. Her final word on soccer: too much running and not enough socializing.

Over the years my kids have participated in other sports like gymnastics, swimming, and karate as well as taken a lot of dance & art classes, but those moms don’t get any recognition. Politicians don’t pander to Ballet Moms and Karate Moms don’t have any street cred whatsoever. Halloween is really my only chance to move into the big leagues of Momdom.

Ingredients:
Sweatshirt
Lawn chair
Lap blanket
Soccer ball
Minivan keys
Thermos of gin


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