Soccer's Life Lessons

Forget anything I have said in the past that might have resembled a complaint about balls being kicked around in the house. Upon further contemplation, I now hold the sport to a higher regard. In our home, soccer is the cat's pajamas. It has changed my children's lives for the better. Because of the concentration and commitment required in First Born Son's intensive soccer training over the past 6 months, he has developed into a much more focused academic student. And, more recently, The Mr. enrolled Princess Commando in a highly competitive training program. Gone is the girl who would fold on the field- waffling between wanting to play and also wanting to hide on the sidelines. Soccer has given her a new found sense of confidence, dedication and purpose. Certainly soccer has provided my children with more than just an outlet for pent up energy. These are some of the other gifts that soccer has lent our family:

Creativity

Soccer has ignited a spark of creativity in the children. They are constantly devising new games to play with the soccer ball. It always begins the same way. Someone is practicing his/her drills in the living room when an instigator inventive child comes along and swipes the ball transforming the sport into a new game melding dodge ball and an exercise of keep away. They chase each other around the couch for thirty minutes trying to release the ball from the swiper's grip. They implement innovative tactics to weaken the swiper's hold such as enticing The Baby to join in the pursuit as a means of making the swiper more cautious, slowing him down. Invariably, the tactics also involve finding another ball and throwing it at the swiper's head to knock him off balance or to wound him. The rules are vague but the children are quite clever when it comes to changing them on the spot. This game is a delightfully deviceful way to involve the whole family.

Brotherhood

Soccer has also kindled the warm flame of brotherly love. I have not seen this much affection between the boys since....well, never.

Teamwork

The virtue of cooperation that is born of playing league soccer is not left on the field at the end of a good practice or hard fought game. The children weave it into their play time at home as well.

The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat 

Behold the image below. She did end up weakening the swiper's grip, allowing her to reclaim her ball and make a break for the kitchen. But, sadly, she, like her brothers before her, learned that in life, much like in a game of soccer, that moments of winning can be terribly short lived. And as quickly as you begin to fall into the dangerous distraction of celebrating your small victory- a breakaway, a goal, an idea for a novel social networking web site, etc, someone will come along and snatch your glory from you and leave you to cry in a corner of the kitchen.

Compassion and Resilience

While soccer is not considered a contact sport, vigorous struggles to regain the ball occur and injuries do happen. Recognizing a man down on the field, dropping to one's knee in solidarity while waiting for the verdict from the coach or medic is a solemn and humbling moment which enlivens commiseration even for a player on the opposing team. It is the healing power of that show support and unity which helps bring an injured player back to life and onto his feet- ready to join the game again. And, when all else fails, there is the promise of ice cream to lure one out of her physical pain. Well, maybe not for everyone.

 Here's a snapshot of what it really looks like after dinner in our house.

Have a great weekend everyone!

The Interloping Babydoll

The Baby discovered Princess Commando's lone Barbie doll (Astronaut Barbie) the other day. She was fascinated by the long silky hair and kept patting her own head to compare the texture and length. She produced a "word" which resembled "hair." And, it dawned on me that maybe having a doll would be a good opportunity to help her better relate to the parts of the body- to be able to show me where something hurt (for instance, when she had an earache) and to reinforce her growing vocabulary. And while she is a relatively gentle child, it would not be a bad idea to use the doll to help model how to be tender and compassionate toward others. I was telling my mother during a phone conversation about my excitement in being able to buy The Baby a babydoll, as Princess Commando never showed any interest in dolls. My mother told me that she still had in her possession a doll from her childhood and she would bring it over. 

The doll is 55 years old. It is about the size of a 6 month old baby. It has piercing blue eyes with thick dark lashes and lids that close when she is tipped backward. She also has a bright red, cupid's bow mouth. The Baby was terrified of the doll and hid behind a chair until my mother sweetly coaxed her out. My mother sat both babies on her lap and assured The Baby that Babydoll was harmless. But, The Baby wasn't buying it.

The Baby took a little time to warm up to Babydoll. But, eventually she extended her hand to examine Babydoll's body parts- shifting her limbs, manipulating the movable eyelids and assessing the whorls and grooves on her head which suggested hair.

I thought that maybe The Baby would be able to better relate to Babydoll if she was dressed in familiar clothing. I pulled an outfit that The Baby had outgrown from a storage bin and dressed Babydoll in it. It did not produce the desired result.  In fact, it freaked the older kids out when it appeared that The Baby was hanging off of the couch- when in reality it was Babydoll tipped on her side. I must admit, on a couple of occasions that evening, my eyes had been tricked into believing The Baby had escaped from her crib when I caught a glimpse of Babydoll sitting in the middle of the living room wearing The Baby's clothes.

The Baby did try to engage Babydoll in conversation. It was really quite sweet. The boys and I watched from the kitchen doorway as The Baby babbled to Babydoll in the living room. Upon realizing that she was not going to receive a response from Babydoll, she knocked her over and then dug her little fingers into her eyeballs and dragged her by the face across the floor. So much for tenderness. When The Baby realized we were watching her, she quickly flashed us a huge grin and shrugged her shoulders up and down in a little dance- as if to say, "I wasn't doing anything wrong. We were just dancing."

Maybe, with time, Babydoll will grow on The Baby. But for now, she has found a home in the fireplace with our flying monkey statue who is forever frozen in a "raise the roof" pose.

On a positive note, Babydoll has provided me with a new method of tormenting my children. If you really  want to spook someone, replace their afternoon snack from the cupboard with an eerie 55 year old babydoll.