Wee Soccer Mom. — Nish Weiseth

Before I had kids, there were approximately 5,439 things I said I would never do once I became a parent.

On the list?

Processed foods
Screen time
Clothes with characters on them
Get a minivan
Let them sleep in my bed

LOLOLOL, how precious was I? And by precious I mean insufferable.

You know what was also on that list? Signing my kids up for organized team sports before they were 10 years old. This may seem like a weird one because there are a lot of benefits to team sports! But a quick search on the fancy Google dot com website will show you that there are actually tons of studies that indicate we're starting kids in sports way too young for a whole laundry list of reasons.

Anyway, I won't go into all the why's here, but it was on my list of things I swore I'd never do. It was easy with Rowan, who has only recently shown any interest in traditional team sports. But Scout? Forget it. That kid has been begging to play soccer, baseball, and basketball since she was three. And when we moved to our new town, I quickly learned that every parent in this fr*cken place signed their own 5 year olds up for what's called Wee Soccer. Scout was soon asked by neighbors, playmates, and preschool peers whether she was going to play. "Mom, did you sign me up?" she would ask, staring at me with her big brown eyes and sly smile.

It should be noted that I am also a complete sucker. It's not entirely her fault.

So, I read about the program. Oh, it's only two days a week for an hour each? And it's only a four week session? We don't have to give up our weekends? Also, it costs $30? That, Parks & Rec department, is something we can do.

So, I signed her up, ordered her some cleats, shin guards and socks. On her first day, we put all of her gear on, did her hair in pigtail braids (how my mom used to do my hair when I played sports), and off we went while I gritted my teeth and feigned enthusiasm.

As much as I struggled, I have to admit that I enjoyed watching her play.

But this week, during her third week, it happened. One of the little kids kicked the ball a bit down field toward the goal, Scout broke away from the pack and absolutely nailed her first goal. She turned around, jaw dropped in shock, then threw both fists up while leaping into the air while squealing. The coach swooped her into a hug first, but then she bolted straight off the field into my arms, yelling "MOM!! DID YOU SEE IT? I GOT A GOAL I GOT A GOAL!!" Her pride and excitement and sheer joy brought tears to my eyes. I wish I could have snapped a photo, but I was too busy cheering and yelling with her.

And just like that, a soccer mom was born.