I’m so that mom at soccer games. I’m the one yelling for Callie to get the ball; cheering like one of those crazed mad women we used to hate at all of our own sporting events. Yep, that’s me!
So, you can also imagine my disappointment when my four-year-old showed zero interest at her first practice. Oh wait, she showed interest alright—it just wasn’t in the ball. It was in the boys, the net…the sky, I mean—anything but soccer.
Rather than have a complete meltdown, I went to a woman I work with that has an amazing relationship with her daughter. She of course told me the obvious, “She’s only four Trina, and she’s not supposed to be interested yet. She’s only out there to have fun. Please don’t turn out to be one of those moms!”
So at the next practices and games I watched the parents next to me closely. When they cheered or gave out pointers, I saw an appropriate opening and chimed in too. I even ignored Callie adjusting her pretty pink bow and practicing dance moves on the field. I was so proud of myself! A future sports momma in the works!
It was Wednesday, time for practice again right before our big Friday night game. We had pictures that day, so I had Callie’s hair all fixed in cute little pigtails. As soon as we walked on the field, I saw a problem. Goose poop everywhere! And my little princess does not like to step in poop! I looked around, trying to figure out a game-plan, none coming to mind. It was everywhere. It only took moments for her to notice. “Mommy, there’s dog poop everywhere! I don’t want to play!”
I reassured her we just had to get through pictures and then we’d see where we were. My little girl would barely bend down on the field to join her team for a group photo. I’m also pretty sure the photos will come back with her nose all scrunched up and a nasty look on her face.
Once photos were done, I sighed in relief—now we just had to get through practice. Callie took one more look around the field. “Mommy, I don’t feel good!” She said, grabbing her throat. Both of her coaches approached her, feeling her head and rubbing her back.
“I don’t think she feels good, she feels pretty hot.” One of them told me, bringing her over.
I grabbed her hand and started walking her to the car. “Callie, are you sure you don’t feel good?”
“No mom, my throat hurts.” She paused for a moment. “Do you think they will have the dog poop cleaned up by the game?”
I smiled. I knew it! Playing hooky to avoid stomping around in poop. Only my four-year-old! I tried to explain that it was actually goose poop and then left it alone, hoping she’d forget by Friday.
Friday morning my little princess awoke in a terrible mood. She was moving slow, and was surely going to make me late. “Callie Jo, you need to speed it up. We have to hurry.” I rushed both kids in the car and we were off. As I looked in my rearview mirror, I saw Callie’s arms crossed across her chest and a defiant look on her face. “What’s wrong honey?”
“I’m just telling you right now momma, if they haven’t cleaned up that dog poop I’m not playing!”