After leaving my debutante days behind, I was in college and there were so many opportunities that just did not exist in my little town, no, I am not talking about the bar across the street from my dorm kind of opportunities. But, after all the years of cheerleading practice, dance and gymnastic classes, club meetings, and the list goes on, I finally figured out that at college I could be whoever I wanted to be, the real me not the one that had been fabricated to “fit in” to the debutante mold. So, I started hanging out with some people that played on the college soccer team (translation- my first real love, a hot soccer guy) and I would kick around the soccer ball with him every once in a while. I had never touched a soccer ball prior to this and I really liked it. So, I started playing alot, well I mean as much as I could when it did not interfere with my studies. My sophomore year, I was on the soccer team at my college. I played on many teams after that, coached, and even refereed. So, Lesson #1 –I will be careful not to over-schedule my kids just so they will be a part of all the “popular” groups. I will help them find THEIR passion and then provide opportunities to enhance it.
So, that brings me to one of my embarrassing moments. On a whim, I had a soccer ball tattooed on my ankle my senior year. It is not something that I have ever really regretted or been embarrassed about. So, fast forward about 9 years after getting my tattoo. I am 6 months pregnant, and I THOUGHT I was still in pretty good shape – for some reason, even though my belly was much bigger than a soccer ball and I was waddling a bit, in my mind I was still that young girl that could run up and down a soccer field. We were traveling back home from a trip to our friends in Texas and we had to stop to go to the bathroom, I did say I was 6 months pregnant, right. Anyway, as I was walking out of the convenience store, a peppy, cute lady in her mid-30s evidently saw my tattoo and bounced up to me and said, “Oh, are you a soccer mom?” as her van full of soccer kids were beating each other. Lesson 2- there is a point in your life that you become your mother; you are not that young, cute thing that you thought you were back in the day. Reality strikes. I was embarrassed, a little speechless, but from that I did learn that a little dose of reality goes well with chocolate donuts….and double cheeseburgers.. and Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey. I blame all my baby weight on that lady.
NOTE: No offense to soccer moms because my boys will be getting big enough soon and I will be one, I just was not ready when this happened.
Dinosaur hunters preparing for a big hunt.
In anticipation of the big dino hunt, Littlest buckaroo just could not get to sleep.