Who me? Soccer Mom?
I have rejected this image of the suburban “person” for as long as I can remember. This makes no sense, as I spent much of my childhood and teenage years growing up in the suburbs and loving every minute of it. But then I went to school in Philly for four years and lived in Manhattan for seven years. And somewhere during that time, the image of the suburbs was just so “suburban”. Perhaps I got a little jaded. And along with moving to the suburbs came the refusal to drive the dreaded minivan (which one of my best friends drives and is ridiculously convenient and great) and cruising the mall. Worse then all of this was the thought of this whole soccer mom thing.
I knew that sooner or later, it would catch up with me. This whole soccer business. My son begged me to find a way for him to play soccer despite the fact that there was a practice one day/week which is 1,000% inconvenient for me. I signed him up because anything he wants, he will get from me as long as I can figure out a way and now, I’m kind of feeling this whole soccer thing. While I’m not going to lie, that weekday practice sucks, but it is actually fun to get up on a Saturday morning for the games and to spend several hours outdoors watching him run around. It’s also fun to see some of my friends and to meet new people (favorite thing to do). And of course, is an excuse to snap away. Here are some shots from this, cold, Saturday morning.
Along with this comes the responsibility of making sure he’s okay. This week, his foot hurt because someone kicked his heel. I made him go back in. Afterward, I asked if he felt going back in was a good call. Thankfully, he did. But honestly, I had no clue what to do – let him sit out for a bit or push him to push himself.
I had a photo shoot scheduled for after the game and after the shoot, Mateo and I hung out and he actually let me take some photos of him.
Once again, he has proven to me that it is wrong to judge something based on the surface or the connotations. And I am learning to find joy in surprising things. Never thought it would be Saturday morning soccer. But for the record, there is no way in hell that I am going to be caught wearing a polar fleece.