Zoey had her first soccer practice on Wednesday (yes, the poor child was thrown to the wolves into a game before she ever got to practice with a team; I'm a bad Dad.). She loved it. She scored three goals, laughed with all her teammates, and listened well to her coach. And didn't even look at us over on the sideline.
Good, I thought. Maybe the crying was a one-time thing.
Nope.
She had a game on Friday night. She played the entire first quarter. At the start of the second quarter, her team lined up for a corner kick (see, I'm learning these terms). Her teammate kicked the ball directly to her. She kicked it. And kicked it again. And kicked it again. She took it the length of the field and SCORED A GOAL!
The only bad thing? It was the other team's goal. Oh well, she's learning.
Then about two minutes later, she looked over to the sideline and saw us and instantly began bawling. She came out of the game and did not return.
The same thing happened during Saturday's game. She was kicking the ball well and was really paying attention to the game. But then she looked over at us and the crying commenced. And she was done. She went back in for a few minutes in the fourth quarter, but only because Ella held her hand while she played.
Are we doing something wrong? I sometimes feel like I'm pushing her, but when she asked me this morning, "Daddy, can I please play a soccer game today?" I feel she really does enjoy it. I would say a good thirty percent of the kids in this league cry at some point or another. I'm starting to think three is just to young to perform anything in front of an audience.
Sorry for the lack of humor today. But some days are like that.
GHS: 0 (although I may get an ulcer from the guilt)
Update: Wow. Two self-indulgent posts in two days. With all the recent hardships people in the southern part of the United States have had to incur (as well as the rest of the world), it seems extremely petty of me to bemoan a few gray hairs and whether or not my daughter like soccer. My regularly scheduled programming (humor, or at least my pitiful attempt at it) will return soon.
She. Could. Go. All. The. Way.
