Soccer in Park City
Last Friday night I loaded 7 of the children in the car and we headed to Park City for my 9 year old’s season-opening soccer game.
He played well. It was a fun game to watch.
I resumed my usual position several yards away from the corner nearest his sideline, taking up post between the game and the playground where 5 of the children were playing. Like I’ve said before, I’m an edge mom. I stand in that place where the worlds of organized sport and free play bump up against each other, turning back and forth between the two worlds as I count heads.
Right now it’s three worlds. The game, the play, and the little one walking in circles around me. She spent the entire game trying to remove the sweater I insisted she wear (due to her cold) and successfully removing the pair of shoes I dutifully put back on her feet dozens of times (the ground was sopping wet). My mom called as I stood there, and we had a great chat.
And then it was over.
We packed up and drove home as the sun set behind the west mountains. I thought as I drove that I’m getting better at this. A while ago driving 7 children to a game at a remote elementary school I was unfamiliar with on a Friday night in rush hour traffic would have caused me stress. I worried about adding the AAA level of play to our soccer world this year, but I’m discovering that I enjoy it. I live in a beautiful state. The onset of a cold made it difficult to pop my ears, so the pressure in them built as I continued home. As we drove, two of my children plunged into a cycle of pushing each other’s buttons, resulting in a wailing noise that hit just the right pitch in my already hurting ears, making me wonder if I’d make it home. And then I started laughing. It’s just a moment. It will pass.
And it did. I really AM getting better at this.