Last february I took a walk on the wild side and signed Finn up for soccer. I felt a little apprehensive. We would no longer be foot-loose-and-fancy-free. The little hippie on one shoulder was frowning while the little cheerleader on the other shoulder was doing back-flips.
After purchasing the cleats and shin guards, John and I formed our initial hypotheses.
John's hypothesis: Finn would be doing cartwheels on the the soccer field during practice.
My hypothesis: Finn would stand in a daze while all the other boys raced by him.
When we arrived at the first practice, I felt at home amongst the other shaggy haired boys. Coach plays in a men's league 2 or 3 times a week and his little son Alex was a complete professional in his Beckham jersey, doing the whole "kick and slide". Very Impressive. But we were most charmed by little Joseph, who kept picking up the ball when he wasn't supposed to, or kicking it the wrong direction cheering, "I won!". To my surprise, Finn was able to keep up with the pack and dribbled here and there til little Beckham swooped in. So my hypothesis was wrong. Finn was not in a daze. He was actually quite the willing participant.
During some of the drills, the open green field was too hard to resist and it wasn't long before Finn was doing cartwheels. So John's hypothesis proved correct! And then little blond Beckham decided that cartwheels looked like fun and joined Finn. I held my breath for a split-second, wondering how coach was going to react to his super-star-son-turned-tumbler. But I had no need to worry. Coach is a softie and just smiled and tousled his son's blond mane.
Back at home, Finn is a new boy. He informs me that "soccer is his new favorite game". He requested a shirt with a number on it, so everyone can find him on the field. This was no easy task! I drove Finn to 4 major sports stores, searching in vain for a little jersy. We finally found some at Target of all places. I handed him a little red and white jersey with a #9 on it and he clutched it for dear life, all the way home. This is the new sight around my house.
He wears it ALL THE TIME. He even wanted to wear it to church, so everyone there would know he plays soccer. I am NOT used to his new found wardrobe opinions. But I am so happy that he loves playing soccer. He dribbles everytime we go outside, and John even resurrected the old pvc-pipe goal.
The other night I tried to dribble with him at the park, and it was quite the workout.
I fully expected soccer to be boring watching all the klutzy little guys struggling to handle the ball. But, I find it to be wildly exciting and my heart pounds as I watch my "tiny Tim" dribbling down the field.
I was sort-of dreading Finn turning 5 and doing all this big-boy stuff. But for all you moms of babies out there, I will tell you one thing.
--Not to Worry--
Your babies will still be as dear as ever when they get bigger. Trust me. I have never been more fond of my Finn boy:) There's just something about a boy in a soccer jersey.
Finn wearing his back-up jersey--not his favorite, because it does not have a number on it.
**Finn was just sitting like this, I was not trying to get him to pose:)
I was right about one thing though. Organized activity does have its draw-backs. Our very first practice went way over and I was ridiculously late to a friend's dinner. And I missed an impromptu extra practice, because I went out of town to visit a friend. Tis ok though. All is well.