The soccer season ended officially this week with my son’s team party. Normally, the end of the season, for any sport, is circled in red on my calender. I count down to that day, like my kids to Christmas. I cannot wait to reclaim my Saturdays and one to two nights a week. This season was different, though. I didn’t mind soccer season much, which is all because my daughter opted out.
With only one team practice and one game per week to worry about and schedule around, life was pretty simple. In the past, we have two or three practices, sometimes on the same day, with multiple games in a day. If they overlapped, it wasn’t so bad. The worst was when one had a morning game and the other an afternoon. Normally, our Saturdays were turned over to sports.
This season some games were scheduled mid-day or afternoon, which certainly ruined a day, but there was no rush from one field to the next. Picture day didn’t drive me crazy this year. It was so easy with only one. It was just like when my daughter began sports and my son was just a baby. Actually it was easier because the one not playing could sit and read while the other played.
I had taken a stand and told my daughter she needed to do something athletic, but she could pick the sport. Before I knew it, September had passed and we were well into October. Soon, the end of the season was in sight, and I was enjoying only having one in uniform, so I let it drop. Sometimes she’d run the track while her brother practiced, and she practiced softball in the backyard, but she didn’t do anything organized. It surprised me how much I loved it.
Basketball begins in a few weeks, but again, it’s only a sport my son plays. I’m going to enjoy the life of a mom with only one athlete for a little longer, until spring comes and they are both playing again. I love you, Saturday.