game day

Well, after an extraordinarily busy week (well, maybe just ordinarily busy) we finally made it to game day. Sunday morning, first soccer games of the spring season for the girls. I had thought ahead and had them all run around and gather up all their various soccer paraphernalia earlier that weekend and place it all where I could actually confirm that everyone did indeed have socks, shin pads, cleats etc. I spent most of Saturday driving all over hells half acre (I know that's an odd phrase, yet somehow apt for the part of town that I eventually ended up in) with Emily trying to locate two pairs of white youth size small soccer shorts, as the twins coach had thoughtfully decided that white shorts would match the girls jerseys better than black. Oh come on, I remember thinking as soon as I heard him utter the words. Obviously he doesn't' do the laundry in HIS house. Not to mention the premonition I had that finding white shorts in the girls size, and two pairs of them would prove to be a challenge. But white shorts were what he wanted, so white shorts I would try to find. And the fates were with me, I tracked down and put on hold what must have been the two last pairs  in the entire greater Vancouver area. So. Sunday morning arrives, I'm up first at 7am, and look anxiously out the window to  - yes! - a blue sky. Which means it's already a good day in my books. We make it through breakfast relatively intact, no last minute meltdowns, and head to the field for the first game of the day, Kate and Em's. Ahhh, little kid soccer. So entertaining! We realize very quickly that the other team may pose a bit of a threat when we hear their coach saying things like "okay, quick pass now, and check your man, and cross that ball" and our coach is saying "okay girls, run faster!". Fortunately most of the parents on our side seem to be in same frame of mind as we are, a little high on that extra morning coffee, and just happy that their child isn't crying. The other team scores two goals against us in rapid succession, as our goalie stands frozen in the net, staring wide eyed at the pack of girls in red race towards her with the ball. So the coach makes a change, and Emily finds herself in goal. As the opposing team dashes yet again towards our goal on a breakaway, I hold my breath and watch as Em smiles hugely and then charges headlong towards them, deflecting the ball away and kicking some shin pads and who knows what else at the same time. Again and again they try to score, and each time Em rushes out of the goal and flings herself every which way to block the ball, smiling a  big gap toothed grin the entire time. When I catch my breath from laughing I wave to get her attention, hold up my hands and shout "use your hands Em! You can use your hands!!" And Em looks at me for a second, then smiles and waves her hands back at me....and continues to use everything but her hands to stop the ball. Whatever works, we all tell ourselves, whatever works. Finally towards the very end of the game something clicks, and our girls suddenly start kicking and chasing the ball down the other end of the field. Kate gets her chance and manages to kick the ball several times in more or less the right direction. She seems pleased enough with herself, and happy to be part of the pack, no pressure. Game time is called but the coaches figure they'll let them play a little longer, and our girls go on to score three quick goals, so the opposing coach decides it's time to stop after all, and that's it, the game is over. We have no idea who won, and really, no one seems too concerned about it. I mean, we're talking about kids who are playing with Barbies on the sidelines while waiting for their turn to go on the field. Now it's time for the big kids' game. Elizabeth has been off warming up with her team for half an hour, and we all make our way over to the field she will be playing on. The sun goes behind a cloud, the wind picks up, and suddenly the whole day seems more serious, less fun. We all zip up our jackets, pull on our hoods, and jump up and down to stay warm while the game begins. Well, the adults do, the twins and their buddy Summer find some sticks and wander off to dig in the dirt for worms. Elizabeth's division is a motley crew of different shapes and sizes. This apparently is what happens between the ages of 8 and 9, suddenly some of the girls REALLY grow, so you end up with teams of kids who range in size from tinier than my 7 year old twins, to tall as some full grown women. Anyway, they take their soccer a lot more seriously. But it's their first game together, they've only had two practices and unfortunately they haven't had enough time to learn each other's names yet, so this poses some challenges for them. Actually not just for them, but also for their coaches, who realize over half way through the game  that the reason Elizabeth isn't listening to them is because they keep calling her Brooke. This does however work in her favor somewhat as she gets to play almost the entire game without being subbed out. As does her friend Brooke, because they think she is Eva. Brooke (the real Brooke) even manages to score a goal. The girls see us all madly jumping up and down on the sidelines and think we are super excited, cheering them on, not realizing that we are actually all just trying to keep our fingers and toes from going numb. Finally the game is over, a tie (we think). Elizabeth is fairly disgusted, as she played defense the whole game, and wanted a chance to play up front. Despite our assurances that she was amazing on defense, and how important that is, blah blah blah, I could tell she remained unconvinced. Oh well. Maybe once the coaches actually get to know everyone's names better, she will get her chance!