Tuesday Truths

Soccer Mom  life isn't  all snack bags and hair bows

Soccer Mom life isn’t all snack bags and hair bows


Cost of Club is worth it to be rid of snack bags and hair bows

Club Soccer is expensive.  There is no other way to put it.  Beyond the fees there’s time, gas, miles driven.  All that factored in I believe I prefer it over rec soccer and its hair bows, snack bags and elaborately decorated cans we are asked to shovel change into when the kids score.  I’m aware this is another reason for my Soccer Mom card to be pulled.  Don’t get me wrong I absolutely love watching my little Abby Wambach run up and down the field in the beehive that is U7 recreational soccer.  I also enjoy the days she prefers to dance around all on her own channeling Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music. Truth is- I love the laid back feeling of rec soccer but also love the more streamlined “get in and get out” feeling of club soccer.  All that disclosed I fully recognize that my girl loves this stuff and that the days in this phase of her life are numbered so I will embraced it- hair bows and all.  Anyone know where I can find cool blue jaguar stickers to perfectly adorn the snack bags I will have to put together later this season.

I am not a fan of “everybody wins”

My position on this matter boils down to the simple truth- life is not fair.  There are winners, there are losers. Period. I am not saying we should point and laugh at 4 year old girls who have just lost a soccer game but what is so wrong with, from an early age, teaching children the life skills of overcoming a loss and the equally important winning with grace?  I am not totally opposed to at the earliest stages of competition, such as Pee Wee soccer (or softball or basketball), having no official score as the kids focus on fundamentals….. which initially is knowing the proper direction to run.  However, we would be kidding ourselves if we did not recognize that the moment these kids can count to ten and are mentally aware that winners and losers exist that they themselves are keeping a mental tally.  Across America 5 year olds are proclaiming “they won” all while their league fails to recognize it lest they hurt the feelings of the children on the wrong end of the score line. Winning feels awesome. It is fun to do, great to be a part of. Losing at any age hurts like heck in the moment, it is a major disappointment, it is down right painful.  The sooner kids learn that the proper response to both winning and losing is a scoop of ice cream the better.  Well in that case… I guess everyone does win.

A first for me: Using the BBQ

I consider myself pretty strong and independent.  I work in a male dominated industry. I am not a super frilly girly girl.  I do what needs to be done for the most part… unless there is a meal that involves the BBQ.  Big Daddy is a grill master. His burgers are beloved by young and old and he makes a game out of people trying to acquire the “secret” ingredients.  He can cook up a juicy delicious steak and grilled corn on the cob is a favorite with our boy.  I will cook dinner, no problem. On the BBQ? Uh, no. That shiny piece of “furniture” that is located in the back yard is not mine to mess with, that is my man’s domain.  At least that is how it was until this past weekend.  Big Daddy took LJ to his first fall baseball practice (Yes, my schedule now looks like this- CRAZY) and the girl child tagged along. This left me at home to finish up some prep work for the week as well as to start dinner. Oh crap- we’d decided on Tri-tip for our meal. Uh… “Big Daddy, how does it work”.  He gave me the rundown on how to turn it on and get it ready for the meat.  I was not confident. Would have preferred a diagram but went with it. Got the meat on and after it was flipped for the first time I threw on the corn.  I was stressed out the entire time. Seriously, I am 38 years old and I was internally flipping out afraid to mess this up.  The way I was mentally wrestling with myself one would think this was the last piece of food on earth. I had to talk myself down from a ledge and had to get a grip.  If it was a disaster I would make something else or suggest Big Daddy hit up Subway on the way home.  I took my responsibilities very seriously. I even did what every self respecting independent woman who is BBQ’ing for the first time would do- I googled how to BBQ Tri-Tip.  I did! Know what? I survived and so did the piece of meat.  I was a proud chef when I sliced into it after allowing it to rest (see- told you I read google….) and saw that it was still juicy and delicious inside.  My boys were proud, The Boss even ate some meat and she is notoriously anti meat. Banner day for this Mom.  That said I am happy to hang up my tongs and give Big Daddy back control of the BBQ.  It all worked out great this time but I fear I may have gotten lucky.


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