Flying solo at Socatime Joeys.

Well, what was I saying about having no expectations, staying close to home, etc… Seems I should read my own blog and take my own advice. Tuesday evening saw me colouring with the kids – what was I colouring you ask??? I was scrawling a note to Jeff that read “Today was NOT a good parenting day!”. I needed him to know but didn’t know if I could verbalise these feelings in anything other than a guttural scream! Wyatt has taken to hitting (and not a gentle tap - a full fist blow, a sturdy whack with a solid obejct, or a sort of slap). What does he hit : anyone, everyone, anything, anytime. His newest catch phrases - “BAD MOMMY!” and “BAD GIRL MADDY (who, much to Wyatt's dismay - has decided to copy his hitting and she is very strong and has great aim!)”. I had a bad night of sleep on Tues., and by 7:15 Wyatt was up and being a tyrant. Jeff was worried about us and kindly decided to work from home. As a result the day was great. We went to the park, then the library, did some groceries and all of the kids had a glorious nap. I was hopeful that Wyatt might have shaken off the “Grumpies” but alas, they are taking up permanent residence and he terrorized the family for yet another night.

Thursday I foolishly decided to ignore my better instincts and carry through with my plan to enjoy trial sessions at Socatime Joeys. The session for Cooper and Maddy was from 9:30-10:15. Most of the kids had jerseys, shorts and socks from the program and were very eager to get going. Wyatt loved being the superstar (the class was for 1-2 year olds) and he behaved quite well for the duration. When Coach took out the bowling pins (called skittles here????), Maddy immediately started walking around eating them. Coach said “Line them up and encourage them to kick the skittles with the front of their shoes.” Perfect I thought, they can do this. But could I? I had between 3-6 little shoes flying at my face before I could even get 1 pin back in place for them to kick! Pins are flying everywhere, Wyatt is eyeing other kids pins…Next drill sees the arrival of the soccer balls.

Coach : “Line up 3 skittles and see if the kids can kick the soccer ball at the pins and knock them over”. Cool, except, my kids won’t stop kicking over the pins/skittles. I am only one person. I am seriously outnumbered. Coach keeps commenting on how well behaved they are. I then realize I am the one with the screwed up expectations of what soccer skills 20-month old kids should have. The session continues on, the kids seem happy enough but are getting restless by the end. There is free time between sessions (this is when I had the time to take the pics included here), the kids love this! The 3 of them racing down the gym, all kicking soccer balls in perfectly straight lines. A proud moment.

Then, Wyatt’s session is set to begin at 10:30. I think a snack may be enough to keep them all going and at first I think I may have succeeded. I have Cooper and Maddy sitting quietly on the bench eating, while I take Wyatt over to the group for some 1-on-1 time with me. That lasts 3 minutes. Then Maddy starts heading for the open door saying “Home”, Cooper starts emptying my bag onto the floor looking for more snack and Wyatt decides he is done and would prefer to lay under the bench and watch. When I threaten to go home, he says “Mom, I am coming.” in a very exasperated voice. Then he joins me for one kick, only to retreat under the bench once again. I accept defeat (not without some SERIOUS cursing and bad parenting moments) and graciously thank the coach and suggest that until my nanny comes I will only be doing one session of the 2, with all 3 kids if that is alright. He is wonderful. He agrees.

I then turn into the mother you see in horror movies (or at least in bad family sitcoms about dysfunctional parents). I literally throw the kids in the van (still cursing). They all fall asleep within minutes of being strapped in. When we arrive at home and I take Wyatt out he mutters “But mom, I was having so much fun at soccer…” then dozes off again. There is only 1 of me. I am outwitted and outnumbered.

I accept defeat (but not without SERIOUS cursing).