i am her.

Things I know about myself:

  • My favorite color is green, preferably Kelly green.
  • I like HOT food.  If my food gets even the slightest bit cold, I have to reheat it.  Exactly the opposite is true for smoothies – if they start to melt, I must refreeze them.
  • I am a morning person.
  • I have a long face and I’ve yet to find just the right hairstyle for it.  This doesn’t bother me in the least.  I’m sure it bothers my mother.

Lastly, I am extremely competitive.  It’s how I win races that I’m ill-prepared for, how I beat Travis at the “folding laundry the fastest”-game and how I “win” at Bootcamp every class (yes, you can win at group fitness).  How I got to be this way, I have no clue.  But it’s part of me and sometimes it plays well to my advantage.

Not so in the case of U5 soccer.

You guys….

I am THAT mom.

**The mom who can’t fathom how these 4 and 5 year olds live with themselves after ambling around the sardine can-sized soccer field for 45 minutes, during a “game” that isn’t even scored and has no referees.

**I am the mom who wants to run out there, mid play, and show the kids where the ball is, because obviously, they haven’t a clue.  (I don’t allow myself this treat, but only because in addition to being uber competitive, I’m a textbook people pleaser.)

**I am the mom who secretly blames their hippy-haired coach for teaching them “self-love” instead of drilling aggression and passion into their moldable minds.  Damn hippy (who also happens to be my husband.)

**I want to withhold the juice boxes and granola bars after the game until the children can fully answer for their actions on the field that day.

The worst part of all this?

My son is THAT kid.


The “free spirit.”

The one lolligagging around the field, windmilling his arms in glee, stopping to carry on full conversations with anyone who will listen, with no regard for the fact that he’s actually playing soccer.

No aggression.  No “go-gettum-ness”.  No desire to win.

He’s just out there having the time of his life, knowing that people are watching and cheering him on.  (NOT knowing that there’s a soccer ball needing to be kicked.)


From the sidelines, through gritted teeth and balled fists, I’ve come to realize that Henry has found the true meaning to life.


He knows it.

He lives it.

He teaches it with every cartwheel and mid-game picked flower.

I’ve come to realize – this means one thing:  He has won.  I have lost.




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  1. I love this post. I would totally be “that” mom too. I think there needs to be a good balancing point between people like you and I and that dang hippy haired soccer coach. It is good to instill our future generation with self-love, but they also need to know that life isn’t fair. There will be a winner and a loser in most situations, and if you want to get somewhere in life, you need to work for it. Handing our kids trophies for participation isn’t going to help anybody.

  2. Ha! This was exactly my feeling when my youngest started soccer last year. Until I remembered my own sports days as a child. Yep, I was the girl playing outfield (waaaaay outfield), picking flowers, looking at clouds and forgetting to run when the ball came towards me. Apples always fall close to trees!

  3. Whoa.

    I don’t even know how to process this right now, except I know you are right, and that I wish I hadn’t started my soccer career at five years old terrified every game of actually doing well because I didn’t want the attention brought on me. Apparently I’m that girl who pretends she doesn’t, but secretly does, care about what other people think a little more than she should.

    We all need to be a bit more like Henry.

  4. I think my son and I are the reverse; I’m the one who is telling him to just have fun, he’s the one who started crying last night when the Broncos went down a touchdown against the Cowboys (I have no idea where this came from; he doesn’t usually watch football, and he’s a Broncos fan?!). This world needs more happy mediums. And more wise children. ;)

  5. I love your hair!!!!
    Henry is starting to “get it” Problem is…
    you get that competitive spirit from me….it will lessen with age….and Henry’s will develop with age!!

  6. I was a soccer ref for the little ones WAY back in high school and it cracked me up that they would all gather together when one kid had the ball WAY on the other side of the field. Or THAT kid that was twirling around while others ran right past him/her!

  7. What a great message! And how appropriate that you are the way you are and Henry is the way Henry is – cool how kids can teach their parents things. :) Love this little post! A fun glimpse into you and your life.

  8. I am like you, and my husband is like Henry. I’m sure my future kids will be more like my husband (actually, I kind of hope that they are), teaching me to slow down.

    We have a lot in common, though — I, too, have a long face, and I feel the same way about my hot and cold food!

  9. I was one of those soccer game cartwheelers. Whenever I played goalie, I would make daisy chains for all the adults. Somehow though, that spirit goes away as we grow up.

    Henry is one smart dude. He’s got this whole life thing down.