My son, the football player.
One day I had a baby boy that didn’t let me sleep through the night for almost 2 full years and the next day…
I am a mix of emotions.
You can’t really see the mix of emotions in the picture above, but I really am a mix of emotions.
To me football = concussions and ambulances and stuff.
I may or may not be dramatic.
I mean, I love having the game on the TV, but when it’s YOUR KID IN PADS THAT’S DIFFERENT PEOPLE.
But even after just a week of practice, football is also equaling the formation of a pretty neat bond with his teammates… a meaningful sense of accomplishment, and has all-but knocked video games out of the running as far as things my son considers fun.
Hold onto your hats/coffee mugs… My son has even lamented… hand on chin, “I wish we had football practice on the weekend.”
Oh, and dad gets to join in on the coaching.
(Probably one of my most favorite pictures of all time right there…)
In case you are wondering, he’s wearing #7.
But he’s #1 in my book.
In hers too. She picked dandelions during the game. And rolled down the hill. In her school clothes.
My son is a pretty eclectic kid. He played a little bit of soccer in preschool and early elementary, but then we got sucked into the vortex that is children’s musical theatre for many years. He is a great dancer, an even greater actor, and his singing voice… I know I’m his mother, but hand to heaven, the boy has one of the most amazing voices I have ever heard. Spot-on pitch. He doesn’t even have to try. I could listen to him sing all day.
But football. This is where we are at. It’s new for me. I have a lot to learn about being a good football mom. But I don’t have to learn anything about being proud of my kid.
I got that nailed.
Besides, being on the football team means he wears a tie to school on game day with absolutely no complaint. If football can do that, how bad can football be?
Don’t answer that.
I can’t even.
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