Confessions of a soccer mom

musings

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Watching my son struggle with the ball
I cringe inwardly, I hate to see him fall
Like every parent, with every ounce of my soul
I want him to succeed every time, score every goal
He is trying hard, that much I can see
To the very best of his somewhat limited ability
He is only five, competition not yet a word
In his vocabulary, he is still guileless in this world
He has not yet succumbed to peer pressure
He can still play a game for sheer pleasure..
**
When I get disappointed, I have to remind
Myself, this is not about me, I have to find
The right balance between pushing and letting go
Letting him learn to deal with the highs and the lows
I am his cheerleader, the one with the loudest voice
But how he handles a sport is ultimately his choice
I have to be careful never to weigh him down
With my expectations, even if reasonable they sound
He is learning to kick the ball, that’s true
But on the field he is learning life’s lessons too
To fall, and get up, to never lose sight
Of the ultimate goal, to keep up the fight
When he does not play well and I get upset
I set a wrong example, he does not learn to accept
Disappointment, which in life is inevitable
In every walk of life, this rule is applicable
**
Thus while my son soccer and life’s lessons learns
I learn valuable parenting lessons in turn..

4 thoughts on “Confessions of a soccer mom

  1. I coached soccer for my son’s team when he was 5 years old. What a riot! He and our other defensive player would stand there with their arms around each other’s shoulders and talk and laugh. Balls flew by them, but they were so cute out there on the field. They are only 5…they deserve fun. It get worse as they grow up. Enjoy this age.

    Liked by 1 person

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