Kicks

Soccer started. I'm only assisting coaching this year, which is an easier role for me and all involved really. For one, it's easier on the already contentious relationship I have with Daughter # 1 these days. Her complete rightness about everything (are all third grade girls like this?) doesn't jive so well with my coachiness. And I've sneaked R on the team too, at least for practices, though she's about two years too young. No one notices much because like the Giant Four Year old, she is Giant too.

Today was the first game. Vacation is underway and we did not have enough kids to field a team, so R got to suit up and play for real. These seven girls played their little asses off for 45 minutes, without a break, and there were no complaints and no meltdowns and damn, if we didn't almost win.

My daughters played right forward and right defense. They made some passes to one another that made me teary -- not because their moves were so skillful or great (hardly), but because these were the same two girls who had been nastily competitive all week. In fact, I have never known them to be so unlovable to one another as they have been these last seven days: every opportunity to one-up was taken, every turned back of mine was a chance to stick out a tongue.

But here they were, a soccer ball between them, playing and working together with glances and nods that added up to some seriously decent plays. They were like a tiny secret team on the Team.

And tonight when I got home from dinner with That Man, the babysitter reported how tired (aka good) they were and how they were all (including the boy child) asleep in the same bed together. Like kittens.

God, I love game days.