At the conclusion of my 7-year-old son’s ballet performance, he struck a pose—one knee down, the other bent—looking absolutely adorable until he tumbled into the ballerina next to him, triggering a domino effect among the rest of the dancers. In that moment, it hit me: my son’s aspirations of becoming a prima ballerina were as far-fetched as they come. Tap dancing was a flop, and hip hop was a comedy of errors. Lacking grace and rhythm, I decided to enroll him in soccer camp, where, thankfully, he thrived. He showcased a natural flair, blending skill with self-assurance.
That fall, I signed him up for a team, but it quickly became apparent that I was woefully unprepared to embrace the role of a soccer mom. Apparently, there was no memo outlining the essential traits of a successful soccer mom. Here are seven reasons why I’m the least effective soccer mom on the field.
- Insects Galore: Gnats, mosquitoes, bees, ants—basically any type of insect you can imagine flocked to the soccer fields. Other parents and coaches would observe the frantic woman (that’s me) flailing about, swatting at invisible creatures as though I were under attack.
- Pointing Fingers: Sure, it’s just a game, but did that teammate really have to kick the ball so hard at my son during practice? It’s practice, not a UFC match! His parents should really reevaluate their approach—how can a child be so aggressive in practice?
- Mama Bear Instincts: I have zero tolerance for kids who push, kick, or claw at my child. I understand that contact is part of the game—something my son’s ballet classes definitely lacked—but the first time I saw him get knocked down, my husband had to physically hold me back from rushing the field to exact some momma bear justice on the offender.
- A Background in the Arts: Unlike the other soccer moms, my background includes piano, guitar, and theater—definitely not sports. It shows, too. At the start of the season, I mistakenly called tryouts “auditions” and referred to halftime as “intermission.” While I’ve since learned the lingo, I’m pretty sure the other moms still remember my slip-ups.
- Isolation at Games: Unlike the bonding experience of dance moms chatting it up while their daughters twirl on stage, soccer moms seem to keep to themselves. They sit in their chairs, glued to their phones or the field, while I’m left wondering if I’m the only one who enjoys a good chat. After a few attempts at conversation, I noticed them shifting their chairs further away—maybe it’s just me?
- Distractions Galore: That baby racing toward the goal? Yep, she’s mine. The 6-year-old sulking in her chair, whining about being bored? Uh-huh, mine too. The heat and humidity at the soccer fields do not help either, resulting in cranky kids (and a cranky mom!).
- Sweat Everywhere: Sweat is the name of the game—mine, my son’s, the baby’s, and even the 6-year-old’s. We’re all drenched in it, more than I ever thought possible. My hair looks like a frizzy mess, and I’ve given up straightening it before Saturday matches. I’ve found the perfect baseball cap to complement my new soccer-watching attire (which, after many blunders, has ditched the high heels!).
But amidst all the sweat and chaos, there’s a silver lining: everyone is constantly wiping their faces, which conveniently hides the tears of pride that spill over when I see my son focused on the ball. He is strong, confident, and brave—exactly who he’s meant to be. These moments make all the challenges of being a soccer mom worthwhile.
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In summary, while I may not embody the typical soccer mom stereotype, my journey is filled with love, laughter, and a bit of chaos. Embracing my unique style has its challenges, but it also brings joy as I watch my children thrive in their activities.
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