More Soccer Lessons

Lately soccer is the filter through which I experience parenting lessons and woes. Two games ago, K was playing defense and got nailed in the face. OOOH my baby! It traumatized her though nothing swelled or turned black and blue. Now she twists her face and cries whenever she is told to play defense, or on offense she runs up and down on the field in proximity to the ball but is visibily hoping it will never get close enough to actually have to kick it. She says she still wants to play, which is good because we coudln't let her quit out of fear. The nurturer in me wants to hold her, tell she doesn't have to play that scary game. But T is right, she is such a fearful little girl, if we let her not do things because of fear she will get to be eleven or twelve and regret never doing anything. We need to keep pushing her. But it's hard to find the balance. I should teach her/pray with her Psalm 34:4, " I sought the Lord and he answered me; he delieverd me from all my fears." This is why I write. The reflecting forces me to slow down, think, and sometimes find ideas. I guess you get to be part of the process.

H, who is probably the worst player on her team, is also the the youngest. Several of her teammates will turn eight in the next two months. H is 6 (and 1/2...don't forget the half). Because of her skill and her age(she gets excited about things they think are silly, or she wears skorts to pratice, because any excuse to look girly is a good one according to her) , several of the girls are making fun of her. The blessing is that she has no idea what is going on. But I have to restrain myself. I want to put those mean girls in their place. But I sit on the sidelines or at home and pray. So far H still thinks soccer is fabulous and her teammates are fabulous. For the record, there are a few older girls who are kind. Growing up I always thought my parents could not or would not understand my emotional aches and pains. I didn't know how my mother was restraining and aching as I learned all those life lessons.

Last night was the first night home since soccer has ended. No one rushing to practice, no bags of treats, hats, mittens, water bottles to pack or unpack. Instead, tickle fights, relaxed homework time and longer than usual storytime. I made two lasagnas (with squash!)--one for the freezer. Cooking was even enjoyable because it was slow. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. I wonder what is next?