The Rules of the Game

Ah, soccer season. The time of year where I totally reaffirm the fact that I do indeed love my children to pieces. Because there's no other way I would be up to make an 8am game on a Saturday morning.

It was Kathryn's 2nd game, unfortunately I missed her very first game ever being that I was gone with the big girls last weekend. Thankfully, Kathryn being the fourth child, has developed some really tough skin and didn't care two licks that I wasn't there, even though I was consumed with major mommy guilt and still cursing the fact that no one has yet invented a cloning machine.

It was so fun to watch her play. Her own way. By her own rules.

For instance, she doesn't run after the ball. She skips.

She will take a water break whenever she decides it's necessary. Even if she is the closest to the ball.

She will run to the coach for sympathy after she falls since her mom told her to "suck it up and get back out there".

She will become easily distracted by the piles of dirt on the field and start building a pile.

She will get herself all sorts of tangled up in the net while she is playing goalie.

And she will stop and strike a pose in the middle of play when she sees me trying to get an action shot.

Emma, on the other hand, has been playing for quite a while now. And has come up with one very good rule of her own...

Attack, run, shoot, score!