So this past Saturday my boy had his second and third soccer game- his second and third games ever... of any kind.
This is his first sport ever, which seems very unusual for a 9.5 year old these days, huh?
Every year he was asked what he thought about baseball, soccer, basketball...but just nothing really.
I don't know, maybe if we had pushed it more he would've done something sooner, but I've never really been the parent to force my kids to do
things they're not really interested in just because I/we want them to or because everyone else is doing it and that's just kind of what you do...
and I knew that in time he would be interested in something. Right?
Well, finally last year he said he wanted to try soccer and then due to an ongoing foot/leg problem he
was seeing a specialist for, it was decided that he could not play and would just have to wait another year...
so this year was the B I G year.
The week before his first practice he told me that he just wasn't sure what to expect and that he
"doesn't really see himself playing on a team sport, but I'm going to do it anyway..."
That's my boy.
He's a thinker and like me, not always sure about trying new things and wonders ahead of time just how they will go, what it will be like, etc.
But then we got all of the stuff he needed and he was so excited, telling me the day before his first practice that maybe he should
wear his shin guards to school(under his jeans) just to get used to them.
He didn't of course, but I could tell that he was both so excited and nervous.
And so was I.
So far the Bears have lost 2 games and won 1.
I don't know if he will play again next year or play for the next 5 years.
I don't know if this will open him up to trying
something different(baseball maybe... but no pressure!) or if he will decide that-
Okay, I've tried something... I'm good now.
But I can tell you this, in just a few short weeks I have watched Wyatt go from being unsure and knowing nothing of the game, to really trying
to understand the rules, enjoying the games and practices, to being a great little teammate to the rest of the boys.
On Saturday I got to watch him win his first game, lose a game, and make me so proud of him
at both.
As I was biting my tongue over a super-annoying loud mouth parent yelling at her kid next to us and laughing to myself a little bit that I am in fact,
a Soccer Mom, I think I was spacing out a bit, not totally paying attention(there were 2 games in a row in my defense) when I heard Wyatt's voice.
I looked out and saw him high-fiving one of the boys on his team and saying;
"Great job, Isaiah! Way to go!"
Something about that and his confidence in the way he said it, right there in that moment just
HIT ME and I started crying right there under my sunglasses in my lawn chair, while getting a little sun burned at my boy's soccer game.
After that I tried to listen a little closer and heard him say similar things to various teammates, encouraging them, telling them good job and giving
lots of high fives.
In that instant I simultaneously wondered where on earth my baby went and I wanted him back
right this instant AND I don't want that baby back at all, we're good right here because look what I get to see right now with this amazing
nine-year-old of mine.
Oh, this whole watching them grow up part... it's so hard.
And so cool.
It's heartbreaking.
And so freaking awesome, too.
Sometimes these moments are so normal and mundane, you hardly take notice and then in the next moment you feel like your heart is either
going to just burst with pride or break right in two.
This thing called parenthood, it really isn't for the faint of heart, is it?
Sigh.
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