This post is brought to you by the fact that Derrick is obsessed (binge watching, cough cough) with Friday Night Lights on Netflix and I DESPISE that show.
Hence. The blog.
Today I took Tobin to a soccer clinic for under six year old children. The big question here is, “WHY?”
Obviously I do not respect sports because I don’t like Friday Night Lights (the show, not actual Friday night lights. I don’t mind lights generally speaking, I don’t even mind them on Friday’s, if we are just talking about the noun, which we aren’t).
So there I was, watching Tobin lay on the grass, put his head between his legs, yell out at me “I’m TIRED” and announce he had to go to the bathroom (which was like, three miles away). It was kind of hilarious. After doing drills (and I use the action verb “doing” quite loosely here), they finally started playing games. Sharks and Minnows. Was Tobin a minnow? Was he a shark? It depended on his whim. Sometimes he would run around as a shark, sometimes as a minnow, sometimes he would just stand there, staring into the distance. The one thing that was clear was that NO ONE was going to tag him and make him be something. He would be what he wanted to be. From what I could tell, generally he wanted to be a rock.
When the drills turned to One on One play, he decided to become what I like to call, the Trash Talking Walker. He would saunter around with his soccer ball, half-heartedly kicking it, and yell at the goalie, “NO WAY JOSE! You can’t bwock ME!” and then he would walk slowly to the goal. By the time he got there, the goalie (a parent) was tired of watching him and would have turned to defend the goal against someone else. Suddenly Tobin would take a shot, and it would go in, and he would raise his fists to the air and scream, “I WIN!” and then spend a lot of energy making sure the goalie saw that he had defeated him. “LOOK WHAT I DID! I BEAT YOU!” he would cackle delightedly. Then he would stand around for a long time. Come to think of it, maybe he has come up with a new soccer strategy: pretend to be a rock until people think you are a rock and forget to defend the goal against you, then make your sneaky little move.
I love this guy. I think he had fun at the soccer clinic, eventually. I was so excited that we successfully completed a soccer clinic without any major meltdowns I threw caution to the wind and went to the grocery store with him and with baby Nolan who, like all fourth born children, was forced to watch the entire practice with nothing but an empty water bottle and his imagination to keep him company.
|Ok i lied, he also had a little caterpillar that he completely ignored. Everyone knows caterpillars trump water bottles. Hardly worth mentioning.|
At the store we smelled the cinnamon pine cones and bought four baby pumpkins. Then I let Tobin scoop Jelly beans from the plastic bins (he chose all pink), just for doing such a good job, especially in the trash talk area. While I was at it, I purchased the fixings for home made carmel apples. It was an exciting time to be alive.
When we got home, Tobin generously shared his jelly beans, because that is the kind of guy he is. He is ruthless when it comes to trash talk, but if you need a pink jelly bean, he won’t hold back.
It’s fall. It’s soccer season. As the seasons roll around, every year, it feels more and more like a giant present. Once, Quinten was little and in preschool and wearing tiny little boy cleats. Now he is bigger and in a new season of Pokemon cards and drop kick competitions. I am happy to meet the new, 8 year old season. It has it’s own wonderful aspects to it and is filled with sweetness, but at the same time, I feel so lucky to have a third round of preschool pizza parties and small people who aren’t afraid to flop onto the field if they are so inclined. It goes by so fast. I appreciate it more, now that I know how fast it goes. The first round I struggled with the sheer exhaustion of it, but now there seem to be enough jelly beans/scented pine cones/no way Jose’s go carry me through. I suppose it is the gift of perspective. Give me all the silly soccer players who have to go to the bathroom. I will give them pink jelly beans and a high five, because Four in Fall is an awesome time to be alive.
In Other News, here are some of the books the boys have been reading this week. I have not read Commander Toad, but Sheldon has. He didn’t seem too into it. He is very into reading the Boxcar Children, aka his first chapter book, aka “you will NEVER believe what page I am on!” :