How I totally underestimated the power of a guilt trip
Once a week, Claire goes to taekwondo. Far before I ever had any kids, I always set it in my mind that my kids, when they’re three, will do some form of martial arts to teach them discipline, confidence and self defense. So last January, I signed her up. She loves it and is one testing class away from getting her yellow belt.
We go every Tuesday and from time to time, I have to bring the whole brood. Luca, bless his heart, is very patient. Well, as patient as a 2 year old can be. He always asks if he can go out with Claire and actually respects the fact that I say, “No, not until you’re three.”
For a while now, Matt and I had been discussing putting Luca in soccer so that he could have a class for just him. Down the road from me, (literally a minute by car) is an indoor soccer arena. I drive past it multiple times a day, yet we’ve never been there before.
Today was Luca’s first soccer class and I learned a few things about myself:
1. I apparently don’t know how to read. From 4:00 – 5:00 is class for 2-3 year olds. From 5:00 – 6:00 is class for 4-6 year olds.
Who showed up at 5?
Me. That’s who. However, I didn’t realize it was the 4-6 year old class until it was almost half way through. When we got there, all the other kids were out on the field and were sitting in a circle. Luca ran out and then turned around and said, “Come on, Claire! Let’s go!”
This leads to the second thing I learned today:
2. I am a softy.
Previous to this, I had explained to Claire that she wasn’t playing, that this was for Luca. I turned around after Luca called for Claire and saw her standing there with a big lip and a fresh tear rolling down her cheek.
One of the three coaches said, “It’s OK, let her come out.”
Claire ran out on the field with a big smile and joined the circle.
I walked back to the bleachers to get my stuff to bring closer to the field and Claire was walking with Luca and the female coach, looking for me. She was crying, holding her face.
It hadn’t even been five minutes.
The coach told me that apparently another kid ran into Claire’s face. I told her that Claire wasn’t even registered and she said it wasn’t a big deal at all and that it is probably best for Luca to have Claire with him.
Claire went back out there and taught me another thing:
3. Claire is hella athletic. She was hanging with the six year olds, running drills, dribbling the ball, and following commands as if she had been doing this since birth. A few of the other parents asked me how long she’s been playing soccer and one of the coaches mentioned to me that she’s a natural.
Luca was adorable. Absolutely adorable. But, because he was so cute, this was when I realized that I was in the wrong class:
4. Luca has endurance of an Olympic marathoner. At one point they had all the soccer balls at one end of the field, save for one stray. When they told the kids to get their soccer ball, Luca thought that meant he had to get every one on the field, so he ran the whole length of the field to get the one, single, lonely ball, all the while cheering, “I see the ball! I’ll get the ball, Mama!” Then he ran the whole length of the field back to the other kids.
He did this multiple times since one of the kids at some point would kick their ball too hard, then go and steal another one from the group. Luca felt it was his personal duty to retrieve said balls.
Then at one point he face planted when he tripped over his ball and he made a point to yell, “I OK, MAMA!”
I about died from the cute.
At the end of the class I talked to the female coach to tell her I didn’t realize it was a 4-6 year old class. She asked how old Luca was and when I told her he was only 2 1/2 she said, “Wow, I thought he was at least 3. He’s fine in this class with the older kids. He did fantastic. And Claire’s a natural! We’ll see you next week!”
….So, I guess this means I have to register Claire now, too.