Sometimes My Better Judgement Is Wrong

One of Matt's coworkers gave us his seats at a soccer game tonight. Very generous of him, but I am betting he doesn't have 3 kids 6 and under that he takes with him every time. My first reaction was, "Uh, thanks but no thanks!"

My attitude toward going only worsened during the day today. It... was... hot today. We laid around the house, attempted to play outside for a bit, getting on each others' nerves, watching the clock waiting for this darn game to begin. I truly almost sent Matt with the big boys and stayed home with my little one. It's just too hot for this nonsense. And I'm not even much of a fan of any sport!

Well, I'm glad I went against my better judgement on this one. We had a blast! I was happy because I got to get out of the house and actually do something and even happier that I got to eat a giant, salty soft pretzel with extra cheese sauce. Ben and Mitchell were happy to see the giant stadium, sit in the second row, eat junk food, guzzle Gatorade, yell and boo, and sit next to "Mad Cow" who had his face painted crazy, a giant silver hoop through his nose, and constantly shouted obscenities at the opposing team.

I admit, for the 15 minutes of so I actually got to sit and watch the game, (before the food ran out and Jack needed something else to do and we had to spend the rest of the time cruising the concessions, making friends, eating food, jumping up and down stairs, and being amazed with anything out of the ordinary) I actually enjoyed watching it! It really makes a difference to be in the second row, surrounded by lunatics, actually able to see what is going on!

We left before it was over. A true fan of the team would have found this experience quite frustrating, as they would not have been able to actually watch the game, but our attitude of "let's just try it out for as long as it lasts to see how it goes" worked out perfectly. We knew it would be overambitious to try to stay for the whole game, so we stopped buying more junk food and left while we were still ahead.

The boys are still talking about "next time," wearing their old soccer jerseys, and playing soccer matches with their ugly dolls (with plenty of chanting, cheering, and unusual rules.) It's getting almost as wild as the real thing...

Sometimes, mom's desire to stay cool and comfortable makes us miss out on fun (although sweaty) events such as tonight. I guess I don't always know best.

Just Don't Call It Football

Ben got off to a fantastic start in sports. Before the age of two, he was quite excited to throw, kick, or hit a ball. He was an amazing little golfer and ran early. "Ball" was one of his first words. If I was ever stuck for something to do with my one little toddler, I could always count on him to be happy just heading outside with a ball or a bat, or a whole bag of sporting equipment!

Then something changed. Although he is big, strong, and fast, for some reason, he now has an attitude towards all sports. In his words, "I'm just not that into sports, mom!" We have had him in soccer and t ball, and he likes to go, but certainly hasn't shown the typical Ben enthusiasm that is so characteristic of him. Getting him to play catch or practice batting or kicking a ball around is more like a chore at best, punishment at worst.

A couple days ago, though, I discovered the secret to re-opening the world of sporting games to him! I found out if you call soccer "kick the dragon's egg to the nest," he will play the game of soccer with gusto! If I call a football an egg and say he's a raptor and I'm an allosaurus and we have to attack each other while trying to get the egg back to our own nests, he can play with speed, strength, and, most importantly, excitement!

Of course, I don't love the sound effects that come with turning football into dinosaur's egg, but I'll take it if it gets Ben (and Mitchell too) excited about using the physical abilities they have been blessed with, but up until now, have chosen not to care about.

It is pretty fun to finally watch Ben excited about throwing, catching, tackling, and coming up with elaborate game plans on the field with his dad and brother (and me, of course.)