Spring Soccer

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You would think that by summer, I would have already blogged about spring soccer. But you know how we all try to block out traumatic events and seem to only remember the “glory days”…

It all started in Florida when all three of my girls attended a delightful ballet studio. The best part was that it was FREE, as a ministry of a local church. Since my girls enjoyed it so much, I registered RockyE and RockyK in a four-year-old class at The Ballet Society here in the Rockies.

We bought new tights and shoes. Each Tuesday we began the painful process of putting curly hair into a ballet bun and donning tights and leotard. And then we would do it all a second twin-time and take them to class. It would take 1 ½ hours just to get them there and drag them into class. Even if one decided to joyfully participate, there would always be another in tears hating ballet. “We only like our Florida dance class!”  When asked, “How do you like ballet?” They would respond in unison, “We hate it. We want to do soccer!”

So we decided to register for spring soccer. Well, first let me start by saying that the title is a misnomer. There is no spring in this city. At least not this year. Most of the games were played in freezing rain, hail, or snow. There was one game with pleasant weather and only a handful of practices were nice.

The picture above is deceptive. It was the only nice weather game. And by the photo, if you picked out my daughter, you would think she was having the time of her life playing soccer. RockyK’s  hands are raised in joy; she’s leaping with her orange and blue hat bouncing. This was the only happy moment that I witnessed. Granted there were a few more, but never at the same time by both girls. So at all times I was on the side lines coaxing or consoling one four year old, while Daddy was on the field coaxing and consoling other four year olds (usually his own)…often in freezing cold rain.

We finally quit soccer too. But not soon enough. We stood in freezing cold rain with both girls in tears and said, “Why?”. Why are we doing this? Why do we have three make-up games scheduled for Mother’s Day weekend? Why did Daddy sign up as assistant coach? Why?!? So we quit and therefore had a wonderful and relaxing Mother’s Day weekend.

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