WHIHTWH: Soccer Mom

(See that huge bruise on my knee? And the mostly-healed scab?
Now that's what I'm talking about.)

I started playing football a couple of months ago. Before then, my total experience with the sport had been Bend It Like Beckham (twice), that's it. But my friend Jessica convinced me my total novicehood wouldn't matter a speck with this women's team. (She was mostly right, though I think me calling out things like, "So, just double-checking. My team's going THIS direction, right?" or, as I'm throwing in from the end, "Raise your hand if you're on my team!" wasn't always thought as funny as I thought it. It's a mostly-women, mostly-expat team. We even have a coach, this funny, drama-queen of a twenty-something Malawian guy who actually coaches us.

I like it because of the way it has pushed me totally out of my comfort zone. I like the way it pushes me physically (and I really love the totally drenched with sweat/drink a litre of water/purified from the inside out feeling I have when we quit), and socially (ahh! go look like a fool in front of a bunch of people I don't know!), and even intellectually, the kind of body-organising thought like when you're learning a choreographed dance. And once I got into it, I realised how much I love it just for the chance to go play for the sheer pleasure of playing, of doing something fun and challenging outside under the night sky with other people.

As if that weren't enough, as a bonus playing football reminds me that I don't need to be a pro at something to enjoy doing it, or for it to have a significant impact on me and my family. Scout and Finn both think shooting our little soccer ball up the driveway to bang against the gate is the funniest thing in the world. (And Precious, well, he's totally out of my league. In bare feet, no less!)

Moe Willem (you might know him as the pigeon guy) made this point on NPR a while back, though he was talking about drawing, not team sports. (In my family, as many of you know, a ball--especially a team-sports ball--is much more foreign and suspicious an object than a pencil or box of colours.) His point, something my own mum has taught by example for years, resonated like a good header.

Amanda Soule gives links and her take on it here. I'll defer to her links, as I am the last one up again tonight, and better than linking I like snuggling.

ps: the previous post is a picture of our Primary at church. They all got on the bus, with Precious driving, and went to the lake.

pps: yesterday I fell asleep reading to Scout at 7:45, hence no post. What with traveling and viruses, Finn forgot that he was pretty much night-weaned. Last night he started remembering again, because I want to love my family again.