But Did You Have Fun?

Every spring, and every fall, I find myself wondering how I get myself into these situations. It's windy and cold, or alternatively, it's windy and hot. It's early in the morning, or it's just shy of nap time. We're running late because we can't find the lawn chairs, and RJ wants Gatorade instead of plain old water.

It is soccer season. I resisted putting RJ in soccer so young. Kids need time to be kids, I reasoned. Why put him in sports this early? Isn't this really something for the parents, not the kids?

You be the judge:

This wasn't posed. 

Neither was this. 

Not even the same game. 

This little boy doesn't think he's too little for soccer. 

He thinks he's pretty hot stuff. 

I think so too. 

But, after every game, good or bad, he has one question to answer: "But, did you have fun?" 

If the answer is ever "no," we'll have to rethink things. 

For now, 

Soccer makes him feel about a foot taller. 

And just for old time's sake, 

His first game ever.  Can I get an "awwww"? 

He was a little pumped. 

His cheerleader, on the other hand, hadn't quite grasped the concept of getting on her feet to cheer on bubba. 

He grew into the uniform and the hair. 

And she started getting the hang of the spectator sport. 

For now, and for this season, RJ knows he's a superstar. 

And Gigi is quite content to be along for the ride... 

most of the time, anyway. 

I used to be a nervous soccer mom, waiting for the inevitable meltdown--hoping it wasn't my child who was doing the melting. I carried RJ to the car after his games because he was too tired to walk. I realized that toddler soccer certainly wasn't something for the parents. He still lets me tuck him in for a solid nap after each game, but there's not much melting down these days.  In fact, his answer to the big question has only gotten louder with each season: "Yes! I had fun!" And for my little boy, there really is nothing more important than fun.