My big boy,
I have been watching you play recreational soccer for seven years. At first, you and I had no idea what we had gotten ourselves into! You hadn’t a clue how to play the game and I didn’t know how to be a soccer mom.
I quickly learned that soccer moms need an emergency kit full of bandaids, first aid ointment, and lots of Gatorade.
We sat amazed as your coach practiced with your team well into the dark twice a week after school. No matter what kind of day you had at school, you still wanted to go to soccer practice. It quickly became your outlet.
You played in rain …
in the mud …
in heat …
and in freezing temperatures.
Remember how nervous you were to play indoor soccer? You and your teammates came out better soccer players because of that experience! Your dad, brother, and I were there for most of your practice and games. You had your very own cheering section when your great-grandparents, grandparents, cousins, and aunts sat with us on the sidelines. I will cherish the photos and memories of your Pop walking you off the field when he came to your games. He always shared some secret wisdom with you, didn’t he?
We watched you grow and become a bonafide soccer player.
Now you are in the 8th grade and, with a lot of heart and hard work, you made the High School team! It’s uncool for us soccer moms to sit on the sidelines and watch our teenagers practice. But I found a way! I lounge in my car, hidden behind magnolia trees, pampas grass, and a rather large electrical box. From there, I can catch some of your practice time. I’m incognito as you work hard with your team across the street. There is a lonely bench on the field next to where you practice. Sometimes I think about sitting there but then I might embarrass you. Maybe I will do it anyway! Even though you are across the street … and I probably need glasses … I know which one is you.
I know how your head bobs up and down when you try to pick up speed.
I know how you run your fingers through your hair when you have a chance to catch your breath.
I know how you like to tumble on the grass when you miss a ball.
I know what it looks like when you are satisfied with the play you just made.
I know what it looks like when you’re disappointed in yourself.
Out of twenty-one boys, I can pick you out from the crowd and my heart is there with you.
Even if I have to watch with an obscure view, I don’t ever want to miss your practices. (You know I will always be at every.stinkin’.game.) I love watching you play, my sweet boy. I love how you put your heart and soul into everything you do. I don’t think anyone has a bigger heart than you do and I want you to know how very, very proud I am of you. I am blessed to be your mom and will always be your biggest fan!
Your Soccer Mom