With the help of an adorable size 2T jersey and the uneven thuds of toddler feet stampeding towards the goal, I became a full fledged member of the soccer mom squad.
When I’ve had a bad momming day, being able to say, “well, at least I don’t do THAT” brings a brief moment of relief from the constant uncertainty of whether I’m playing this parenting game the right way. But that doesn't make it right. It's too easy to judge.