You guys! I have been doing the Soccer Mom thing for 16 years. SIX TEEN. Years. Multiplied by four kids and a fall and a spring season each of those 16 years. I shouldn't have done the math but I did and now I have to tell you that I have done 128 soccer seasons. There should be a medal for this.
Except that I can brag of nothing. You know why? Because I learned at least
1,200 soccer games ago that when the weather starts to get chilly, it will be FRIGID at the soccer field. It just will be. Not necessarily for the players, but definitely for the mothers. Therefore, I learned to never, ever walk out of the house for a soccer game on a barely chilly day without grabbing every piece of winter apparel we own.
I know this. I've suffered for not doing this. And yet, every single year I seem to forget
and show up to a soccer game without a coat and gloves or even a blanket.
I did it just last week - again. Why, Laura? WHY?????
It just wasn't very cold when I left the house. Then I got to the game (which is only one exact mile from my house) and the temperature dropped to LauraMightDie degrees. And there I was, sitting in my chair at the field with my cute little
light jacket, which, by the way, was laughing at me.
I made it through the first half of the game, all the while thinking of all my soup recipes and Christmas morning fireplaces and trying not to cry. "How would I possibly make it through the second half of the game?" wondered the unprepared mother who should have known better than to wear flip flops.
Then I
remembered! I had a tiny rolled up blanket in the van. It was thin and possibly would provide the level of warmth I would have received if wrapping up in tissue paper, but it was better than nothing. So I shivered my way to the van during half-time and got my tiny rolled up blanket. Back in my chair, I tucked it around myself and would you believe? Thin though it was, it broke the wind and warmed me up and here I am alive to tell about it.
