These past few months have been busy ones for the old Wood household. Nearly every school night was given to some sort of sporting event or practice for my Ella and Summit. I know lots of parents experience every-day-of-the-freaking-week activities, but this was something that this family wasn't really prepared for. Mondays and Wednesdays were for Ella and cheerleading (of course, some weeks the Wednesdays changed to Thursdays, which was nice for me...not so nice for Matt as that meant he had to be in two places at once on Thursdays since I work those nights...bummer for Daddy!), and Tuesdays and Thursdays were for Summit and soccer.
At the start of Ella's cheerleading, I was a little hesitant about how exactly the whole thing would play out. I suppose I projected how I might feel in front of crowds of people and trying to do the whole moves and shouting thing. I suppose I shouldn't have projected, because my daughter loved it. Never was she nervous. Never was she scared. She always paid attention (hmmm...why doesn't this work at home?) and she was always cheering her team on, doing spirit fingers and cartwheels and toe touches. She l.o.v.e.d. it. And, I enjoyed going to her games. It helped that her team was the BEST in Chapin. Oh yeah! The Lions were #1! We even made it to the big final playoff game against the best team from Irmo. How did it end? Let's just say that I think we need to check the birth certificates for some of those pee-wee leaguers in the city, if you know what I mean. Regardless, the season was a total success, and the girls and boys were amazing, and they were lead by equally amazing coaches!
As for Summit, I wasn't so certain how long the boy would last on the soccer field. Because of my class schedule, I wasn't able to attend hardly any of his games, and this broke a little piece of my heart, for real. I got to go to the very first short expo game at the start of the season, which was on a Saturday morning. Even though I hate being places on weekend mornings, I was so happy to get to see my little fella play soccahball that day. To be honest, it was that game that filled my mind with uncertainty about how much of soccer he'd allow in his life. When he fell (and this happened a lot that day), he was nearly devastated. After the grass settled, he'd look up at his hands before using them to push himself up off the ground, and after he'd stand up, he would examine his knees, covered in grass, and scrunch his little face up in such a way that the tears had to fall down a few hills before reaching his jersey. And, then he'd run off the field and over to me or his Popi, whoever he saw first, for comfort. Mind you, he wasn't physically hurt, but those falls sure hurt his feelings.
At the end of the season, I scheduled a game to attend, and, to my surprise, the boy had grown so much. He was confident, aggressive, stronger. When he fell, he didn't take it so personally. He still has a ways to go in the whole skills department, but that's okay, he's only 4, after all. Actually, most of those kids have a ways to go. I have to give a high five to the coaches. Teaching little ones to play soccer is no small feat. They run all over, kick the balls all over, forget which goal is theirs, forget to pay attention. Thank goodness they're cute.
So, fall sports were good. My babies grew a bunch and got stronger and more sure of themselves, and I suppose that is the whole point of these activities. But, am I happy to have a break? Heck yeah!
As for Summit, I wasn't so certain how long the boy would last on the soccer field. Because of my class schedule, I wasn't able to attend hardly any of his games, and this broke a little piece of my heart, for real. I got to go to the very first short expo game at the start of the season, which was on a Saturday morning. Even though I hate being places on weekend mornings, I was so happy to get to see my little fella play soccahball that day. To be honest, it was that game that filled my mind with uncertainty about how much of soccer he'd allow in his life. When he fell (and this happened a lot that day), he was nearly devastated. After the grass settled, he'd look up at his hands before using them to push himself up off the ground, and after he'd stand up, he would examine his knees, covered in grass, and scrunch his little face up in such a way that the tears had to fall down a few hills before reaching his jersey. And, then he'd run off the field and over to me or his Popi, whoever he saw first, for comfort. Mind you, he wasn't physically hurt, but those falls sure hurt his feelings.
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