I'm not a jock mom. That's okay. I'm another type of mama and I do that well. I didn't expect to be the type of family that has children enrolled in tons of "activities", shuttling children back and forth, juggling a calendar of weekly events leaving us breathless with one foot in or out of the door at any given moment. And, okay, we're not really there, we just have a couple things going on but this weekend I haven't handled the business very well.
Wolfie is playing basketball on Friday nights. I thought his game was at 5:00. We all went; we showed up at 5:00. Wolfie's shirt is blue. There were red and yellow shirts there at 5:00. I checked the schedule posted on the bulletin board and sure enough, Wolfie's team was playing at 7. We went to Burger King.
Tulip had not only a soccer game, but pictures on Saturday. Her game was at 11:30 so pictures were at 11:00. At 10:39 I am hustling the whole family to get their shoes on and then, just for good measure, I check the calendar. 1:30. Her game is at 1:30 and pictures are at 1:00.
"Wait!" I holler because some people are beginning to board the van. "We have two hours." We didn't go to Burger King or anywhere else fabulous. We stayed home and had left-over mac and cheese for lunch.
Fast forward to 1:00. Well, 12:50 actually. We are cruising through the parking lot at the soccer park. We typically park on the other side of the soccer fields, but today we decided to park in the actual lot which is completely packed. The kids are not used to us cruising the parking lot.
"Do you know where you are going? Are we here at the right time? Are we supposed to be driving here? Is this the right place to be?" The kids pepper us with questions, no interrogations, from the backseat. I have completely lost credibility with them.
But we make it to pictures on time and everything is fine. Tulip's soccer game starts promptly at 1:30.
Luna wants to play in the playground. This is frustrating because I want to watch Tulip play soccer and the playground is far from her field. Luna wants to swing on the regular swing, not the baby swing. I push her.
She falls off.
Yes, I pushed her right off the swing.
"I want to go see Papa!" she wails, as I hold her in my arms.
I sit down next to Papa in our folding chairs, holding Luna in my lap. She's tired, she's missed her nap, and I just made her fall off a swing.
"I want Mama milk!!!" she wails. She's covered with mulch. "I. Want. Mama. Miiiiiilk!" she wails again.
Yup, I'm that mama. I nurse an almost three-year-old. I nursed her, and got to watch Tulip play the rest of her soccer game.
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