When you are the mother of four children--children so utterly different from one another--you cannot help but marvel at their gifts. You cannot help to wonder where said gifts come from.
Oldest Daughter saw a violinist on PBS when she was not even THREE and said, "THAT'S what I am going to do with my life." She begged for violin lessons for a year. I finally caved. She leaves for college in August. To study? Violin.
Oldest Son at age 3 was doing 3rd-grade math in his head. He picked up the game of chess in an hour. An HOUR. As a first-grader or something equally ridiculous.
Baby Girl can make such beautiful art . . . it inspires. She had her work in a small show tonight.
And along comes Demon Baby. Yes, he has a gift for mayhem. But . . . he is also a born athlete. Yesterday, Demon Baby started soccer. (I conveniently didn't tell "Coach Ted" he was actually coaching a Demon and let Coach Ted believe Demon is a cute kid with dimples.) Demon Baby just turned 3 two weeks ago. Yesterday was his first soccer practice. He ran like the wind, he kicked, he scored. Ah, but it was more than that. He's THREE. On the field, as he waited for practice to start, he walked and tossed the ball in the air, catching it. Not concentrating. Just toss, catch, toss, catch, toss, catch, like breathing, this natural thing. Walking, talking, tossing, catching. I am lucky I can walk and chew gum at the same time, that's how athletic I am. When it came time to listen to the coach, he plopped his ball down and sat on it, looking, to all the world, like David Beckhan in miniature.
I love the NY Giants. I love the Yankees. I like a good game of volleyball. I like to play field hockey (haven't since high school). I like yoga. But I am not athlete. I signed up Demon Baby for soccer for one reason and one reason ONLY. To exhaust the hell out of him so he would go to bed on time.
But I marvel at his gifts. His natural talent. Soccer beats releasing the python, toilet papering the hallway, and tossing syrup at the walls any day of the week! I am now, officially, a Soccer Mom. Expect the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse to ride through at any moment.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
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8 comments:
Now there's something I never thought I'd hear you say!! Erica a soccer mom!
Spy:
It stuns me to even SEE those words.
E
So, does the soccer work to wear him out? Maybe I need to get my kids into soccer or something to expend all of that energy.
Oh my god! Are you a real soccer mom with SUV seating 7, capris and large casual designer purse with phone constantly ringing? Has hell frozen over?
Conley:
Actually, he slept well that night! More improtantly, he LOVED it and was very joyous,
E
anti-wife:
I have four kids. The van is a face of life.
But I am still the only goth mom on the sidelines (I only wear black--it's actually for simplicity--I never have to think of what matches with what). And frankly, if Demon's dad drives me ever, I will be sitting there with a martini and him as my designated driver. Hence, NO, I am not a "real" soccer mom. Those ladies look vaguely freaked out by me.
E
Love the image of him on the field. My son could also work a ball well at a young age. They are born with it. He never wanted to play a team sport though but took to tennis immediately and now plays for a club team. It's all about hand/eye co-ordination apparently.
I am not particularly athletic though I did used to play a mean game of squash but put a gun or a bow and arrow in my hand and I will hit damned near the bullseye every time. Who knows why since I have no training in those areas.
Suzanne:
Interesting! I always found team sports too pressurized for me. It's bad enough to lose, let alone lose and screw it up for your team. But I know some kids thrive on it.
E
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