Soccer Mom

Luke starts soccer practice today, so I am now officially a Soccer Mom. Please congratulate me on achieving this status.

He is so excited. He is wearing his little soccer practice outfit that I bought at Target. He's totally Beckham'ed out and ready to dig in the dirt and chase butterflies at his first practice tonight. He also gets to wear shin guards and bring his very own soccer ball (size 3). Did anyone know that soccer balls come in sizes? I had no idea, but I guess the sizes start at 3.

I never played sports as a kid so all this is new to me. I'm very excited that Luke is getting to play sports. I think I somehow missed a basic tenant of understanding competitive sports. To me, you go out there, have fun, and win or lose, you go home and get on with your life. Apparently, this is not the case. I know people who are competitive in every aspect of their life, whereas I'm more of a live and let live kinda girl. If someone bills more hours than me at work or makes more money than me, but they worked harder for it, then eh, who cares. If someone else kicks butt at golf , I think that's great and I just move on with my score of 120, pop another beer, and call it a day.

My friend Ginny, on the other hand, is super competitive about Trivial Pursuit and I think all board games in general. I just sit back and watch her control the game. Doesn't bother me in the least, and in fact, I find it rather amusing as I continue to sip my adult beverage of choice. ( I wonder if it would be less amusing without an alcoholic beverage - nah, probably not - she's freakin' hilarious). I think it's okay to be competitive when you're good at something (which Ginny is nauseatingly good at TP - no wonder she went ivy league for a while), but could you imagine someone who is horrendous at a sport or activity trying to be killer competitive? That would drive me crazy! For example, parents who boast about their mediocre kids as if they are the next Leonardo Di Vinci or Michael Jordan. Seriously, someone out there has to have an admittedly stupid kid or an ugly baby. (Not mine, of course, they're perfect in every way!) Why do parents feel the need to one-up each other. Two of Luke's friends are reading already - Luke is not and I wouldn't even try to say he is even close. One of Evie's friends can recite the Declaration of Independence flawlessly - Evie cannot. (Just kidding, but most of them do speak more clearly than she does, but c'est la vie). Some parents then say, well, my kid can't read but he has great hand-eye coordination. C'mon, give me a break.

Sorry, I went off on a tangent there. Luke's little soccer team is all boys. I really thought it would be co-ed at this age, but I obviously don't know a lot about sports, as evidenced above. Unfortunately, all of Luke's games are on Saturdays this fall so we won't be making it to many of the Aggie games and Chuck will be missing several of Luke's soccer games. No one seems bothered by this, so I haven't gotten my panties in a twist about any of it. We'll definitely miss Chuck when he's at the games, but each year I grow more and more accustomed to his A&M football addiction. I'm just counting on Chuck to be around when the baby is delivered or when I'm dilated 3 centimeters and the doctor says point blank to Chuck, "You should not go out of town." Luckily, it looks like we will be able to attend two games this year: one this weekend and one in November. That should be plenty for this prego Soccer Mom.

Yet another tangent, sorry. Well, I'll try to get pics of Luke in his soccer stuff and post them soon so you can see how much he looks like a real soccer player.