The inevitable has happened. I knew it was coming, but it still took me by surprise. I have become a soccer mom. I do not, for the record, drive a mini-van, so there's that.
I signed Z up for soccer this fall. Our first practice was on Tuesday. So far? I am not really impressed with Z's coach. She didn't attend the coaches meeting, so we were the last ones to hear from our coach. She put off reserving a field until she just had to take what was left: a field so far away that it is practically in the next state. Oh, and she didn't show up for our first practice. Awesome.
Z and I drove out to BFE and found the soccer field and waited for everyone to show up. And waited. And waited. Did I miss a memo?
Luckily, I was the mom prepared for everything. We had brought Z's shiny new (pink!) soccer ball with us, so we had a practice just the two of us.
My girl has mad skills. Seriously? I knew she was a pretty good kicker, but I had no idea she would be a good dribbler and passer. I played soccer in high school, so I ran her through some drills. She mastered all of them in no time at all. By the end of our 45-minute 'practice' she was good enough at ball-handling to steal the ball away from me! You go, Z!
And since nothing says 'proud mama' like shaky low-res cell phone video with crappy audio? Enjoy!