another season in the books

And just like that Scout's soccer season is over. This spring the Black Panthers (yes, that's the name Scout's U6 team picked out for itself) dominated on the field. I'm kidding; watching five year-olds play soccer is almost as amusing as watching four year-olds. However, the team was excited to be back together for its second straight season, and the little guys had fun out there.

The most exciting thing for the parents was our group decision not to provide after-game snacks. We opted instead for halftime oranges, and I have to tell you how much this improved my soccer Saturdays. Instead of having my two children--the two who did not participate in the game--screaming and whining about snacks, snacks, snacks and grabbing with their greedy little paws for players' snacks, we were able to exit the soccer field with little drama. And no one crashed from a post-8:00am game sugar rush at 9:00 in the morning. It's the little victories that count.

sporty sunday

Somehow we made it 2/3 of the way into lacrosse season without my having watched a game. By some crazy stroke of luck, Alex was home the one Sunday in March and the one Sunday in April that Catcher had games an hour outside of Austin. Alex took Scout along on the first outing, and I stayed home with Tillie who was sick at the time. The second time around, the boys bonded doing boy things (like hitting each other with sticks) while the girls and I stayed home and bonded doing girl things (like reading quietly and acting otherwise civilized). Last weekend, however, it was a family affair as we trudged out to hill country for a Sunday fun-day of mini lacrosse.

I gave the girls pedicures when they got bored, and then I gave them snacks (mom bribe) so I could actually observe some of the action on the field. Catcher isn't the smallest guy out there this year (he's close), but he does have bright pink shoes so I can always spot him from the sideline. 

the last game of the season

Catcher's last soccer game was one of those days in Austin where the morning temperature was the high for the day. When we left the house at 8:30am and it was 64 degrees in our neighborhood, I had no idea there was a cold front moving in that would drop the temperature by 10 degrees when we reached our destination of a soccer field in North Austin just 20 minutes later (actually, more like 30 since I missed our exit). I'm no meteorologist, but this is how the weather goes on such occasions: the morning starts out mild yet chilly, a crazy arctic wind blows in from somewhere, and the day gets progressively colder until you're wondering why you left the house without your hat and mittens. That is, if you even own a hat and mittens because this is Texas, after all.

Needless to say, I was underdressed in my light sweater and jean jacket--even with a scarf wrapped eight times around my neck--so I spent most of the game huddling with a group of similarly dressed, underprepared moms (yay! I wasn't the only one) instead of on the sideline documenting the last game of Catcher's first year of Junior Academy. The players were so wind-whipped and frazzled by the end of the game that I couldn't persuade anyone to take a team picture. We'll just have to rely on our memories to remind us this was the year that Catcher had a Rocket and a Boone and a Zaf on his team--a bit whacky, even by Austin standards.

catcher in goal

I may be the only mother in history who was fired up to see her son put in as goalie during Sunday's soccer game. Catcher was only in for half of a half, and admittedly there wasn't much going on while he was there, but he did manage one save. To be honest, his one save was the only time the other team even crossed over to his team's side while he was hanging out back there, so I'm glad things went his way. During most of his ten minutes at the post, I found myself torn between wanting Catcher to see some action and being terrified he would actually see some action on goal. In the end, it was enough to watch him pacing around in his oversized penny.

After the game when I asked him the only question you really need to ask at this age, "Did you have fun?" He answered with a lukewarm "Yes." That's a pretty good response from Catcher. Most of the time I get an eyeroll and a "Yes, mom" said in that voice that's really conveying "You're so annoying mom."

the end of the week

And just like that we've reached the end of another school week. Last week Catcher signed up for lacrosse "skills and drills" fall training, so this is how our afternoons look now:

Monday: soccer (Catcher)

Tuesday: soccer (Scout); lacrosse (Catcher)

Wednesday: soccer (Catcher)

Thursday: lacrosse (Catcher)

Friday: piano (Catcher and Scout)

For the moment Tillie is just along for the ride. But she's already counting down the days until she can play soccer, so she'll have her own day in the rotation before we know it. And then we'll be packing Catcher up for college.

just another saturday

Tillie is back to her normal (vocal) self. Scout was throwing elbows at her soccer game, and Catcher's team got creamed (again). It must be just another fall Saturday. Of course this fall Saturday was 90+ degrees, but I suppose that's Texas for you. (I'm still waiting for that perfectly crisp autumn morning to enjoy my first pumpkin spice latte, by the way.)

This morning Catcher's and Scout's games were at the same time on two different sides of town; therefore, Catcher hitched a ride with his buddy while the ladies and I stormed the fields of Burnet Middle School. That's my disclaimer in case you thought I was playing favorites by photographing the middle child and not the eldest. I was also team photographer for the Blue Dragons today and saddled with the responsibility of getting a decent smile from six five year-olds at one time for the group photo. That almost worked:

catcher defends

He didn't score any goals on Sunday but Catcher defended (like the true thinking man that he is), and even reminded his goalie where [on the field] he can and can not touch the ball with his hands.

For the fall season Catcher and several of his friends have embarked upon the world of Jr. Academy Soccer. Sure, it sounds fancy, but what it means is "we can charge you a bunch of money to have you think we're making soccer stars of your children." I'm kidding (sort of). The coaches are actually great; it's the parents who need to realize that their 7 year-old child is just a child. I'll save my soap box speech for another day. In the meantime, let's have fun, people. Call me when your son makes it to the World Cup. (Too harsh?)

I mean...look at these little guys. They are so cute!