Hello Organized Sports

When I first learned I was having a boy, I instantly envisioned future Saturdays at the soccer field. Or baseball field. Didn't matter to me. I just couldn't wait.

But then Jeremy comes home one day and says, "I just signed Cutler up for flag football!" And I couldn't process it. One, was it really already time for organized sports? And two, football? Usher in visions of rough-housing and concussions and broken arms and....

"Jamie, you do realize it's FLAG football. He'll probably have less contact here than with soccer, what with all the shin kicking." Oh, well there's that.

So I settled in for a season as a football mom. Turns out, my fear of harsh contact was ridiculously ambitious. It assumed my son would actually invest in a full game. We were lucky if he even ran down the field in the general direction of the play. Furthermore, I learned that the attention span of a 4 year old just isn't conducive to a 30 minute game. Fifteen minutes and he was over it. Sooner if we got to the field too early and he had time to run around pregame. Coach finally decided to make him the center. This kept him engaged while allowing him to offload the football as soon as possible. Cutest little center I've ever seen.

I'm happy to report that we survived the season. There may have been an occasional meltdown from a particular 4 year old. Or a particular 36 year old. (It's insane getting off work, rushing to soccer practice, shoving dinner down our throats, squeeze in choir practice, then back home for bed times routines and finally crashing on the bed myself.) But we did it and we have the trophy to prove it. Um, no... his Chiefs team did not win the season. I know, I know. There's buzz about the ridiculousness of "participation" trophies and I'm inclined to agree. However, I promptly ignored that little tirade when I saw his precious little face light up holding that trophy. You would have thought he won the Super Bowl. And I wasn't about to deflate that balloon for all the princple in the world.

This was supposed to be his "fierce" look. Nailed it.

Way to go Chiefs!!

P.S. There is something very disturbing about this next picture. Namely, my son's mouth guard just hanging out on the bench. Cringing. I'm cringing. Yep... still cringing.