Last Monday, I started coaching my 3 year old son in soccer, just as my mother before me. No...really.  My mother signed up to coach soccer for my brother back in 1986 for his 5 year old team. She coached up until last year when they relocated to Iowa to be near their grandbaby.  I wonder how closely history will mirror? 

She already laughed in recognition at my frustration with my son clinging to me jealously as the other kids dare speak to his mommy.  She nodded knowingly at my tale of the pouting three year old squatting on the sideline glaring at the rest of the team while they played with "his" ball until it was waaaaay too much fun not to join in. And she sighed with regret as I wondered how I was going to handle my very first practice by myself since my co-coach/husband was stuck at work all night.  And she wondered aloud, if once again I was shouldering a little too much - echoing my very thoughts.

I look to my peers frequently for advice and experience with their little ones, sometimes I forget that my mom once had little ones too.  Weird but true. Today my mom has adult children, is a grandma and her role has changed.  But not so long ago...she had a three year old who pouted, and threw tanturms and all the fun stuff I deal with.  And she knows a things or two about soccer after 24 years in the biz.

So I join the soccer mom club, not just the masses toting thier kids to practice 8 days a week and the relentless games and tournaments the ambitious organizers schedule.  (No, no that would be too simple)  But the one my mom started in her own family years ago by volunteering when she was needed. The one that spawned a passion in my two brothers and even my dad so that to this day, both my brothers still play, coach and referee at various intervals. I always stood back from that group, from that family bonding experience. I guess 30 years later, I am being given the opportunity to join in and put my own stamp on all of it.