Monday, September 06, 2010
I have an odd family, but then, to paraphrase Tolstoy, each odd family is odd in its own way. And I can bet that most of you readers know what I mean. We struggle to fit some standard of idealized family perfection and then life gets in the way. In our case, as I'm sure in yours, soccer creates its own bits of oddness throughout each season. The comforting thing is that although we are odd each in our own way, we have bits of oddness in common. And if enough of us have them in common then perhaps that odd becomes the new normal. At least that's what I vote for.
For example, my sons aren't the only sons who leave their cleats on the garage floor right next to the car door they hop into as we drive away. My husband isn't the only husband who hears "get the grey blanket" and returns with the blue hat. I'm not the only mom who looks up directions for the wrong field so that we drive 20 miles out of our way and nearly make Robbie, and two of his teammates late for the first game of the US Youth Soccer National Championships. We aren't the only family to drive eight hours across the Great Plains with a petulant teenager when his team loses said championship. And we know that we aren't the only family to read the schedule wrong and are sitting in our home in Wisconsin when the team manager calls and asks where we are for a game in Ohio. Or at least we hope we aren't because that last bit of oddness is nothing to be proud of.
I'm sure several of you drive cars that count their miles in the 100,000s. After all you are soccer parents and as such your disposable income goes for trips, gear, more trips, more gear, and fees. It's difficult to consider a new car when the old car works so well and has already been trashed by the muddy cleats, the spilled juice boxes, and the week old soccer socks stuffed under a seat. Just this week we discovered a banana bunch hidden under the seats that had been there long enough to ripen, rot, and petrify. Amazingly no one noticed the smell, or more accurately, no one noticed any different smell. Because the right side speakers are shorting out, we adjust the sound to come only out of the left, but that means that we often only hear one track of a song which could be the melody, the harmony, or the band. In the case of rap, we may get no words at all but have the pulse of the bass clear as a bell. The car would be perfect for committing a crime because if the police ever took soil, hair, and fiber samples they would end up with contradictory evidence and wildly different geographies.
Here's an oddity that I hope at least one other mother has done. I printed up and laminated roster cards for the parents and left my own son off the roster. It was one of the other parents who pointed it out to me, after I had handed them all out. I redid the cards, but Bryce found out anyway. I had to endure the wrath of a 12 year old who was convinced that I did it on purpose. You would think after 12 years of watching me make mistakes, he'd know better. I'm the same mom who put a red towel in the washer with his white soccer gear. And I'm the same mom who forgot my wallet at work when I was driving Robbie down to practice in Chicago. I discovered it when I was below a quarter tank and had stopped to get more gas. I was able to limp the car to practice on fumes and then borrow some money from normal prepared parents so I could fill up for the trip home. Several of you have done the same, right?
It's no wonder our kids are convinced that they are the only ones trapped in an odd family made more embarrassing when we fill in other people on our quirks and foibles by way of a blog. Arguing that our oddness is what makes us a signature family doesn't really fly because for most kids hiding out in the center of a herd of identical families makes for the smoothest life. However, just like we parents have to discover that our kids aren't the only ones who forget gear, leave important forms sitting on the kitchen table, lose shin guards on the field, and kick balls into the woods never to be seen again, our kids need to learn that their parents aren't the only ones who forget that you lose an hour driving east across the time zones, or neglect to push "submit" on the computer when registering for camp, or sing along with all the Billy Joel songs on the radio. We are all odd in our own way, but we are all odd. Soccer only adds opportunities to express that oddness. And this is the week to celebrate being odd (which is to say, celebrate being a family).