I don’t do sports.
No, really. I truly do not understand the inherent joy many people get from watching or participating in sporting events. Monopoly I get…Scrabble? Play it all day on my phone!
But bouncing a ball and throw it several feet through the air into a small hole? Perhaps I’m dense, but what is the point again?
You may think I come from a family of four-eyed, picked-last-in-gym-class types given my distaste of athletics. This is not the case – my parents are very athletic, my dad played college basketball, my other dad is an avid runner (I’ll get back to my big blended family in another post, I promise), and my mom swims, walks and bikes every week.
Perhaps I’ve just never been exposed to the exciting world of sports viewing, you may believe. Again, not true. I grew up in a one TV house with a sports loving dad…then went to a college with a basketball team that makes the playoffs every year…I then married a man who will watch any sport involving a ball.
Maybe I should just try it, you then suggest. Well, what if I told you I trained for six months and then ran the Chicago Marathon? What if I also told you that despite literally running my ass off, I never got a “runner’s high” or experienced any other evidence of endorphin-related sports joy.
If there is a gene related to enjoying sports, I’m missing it.
However…this past Saturday, my world was rocked. 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. Yes, my son is only 20 months old, but I’m pretty sure that after one practice he has demonstrated an aptitude for team sports that far exceeds his age. Yes, my son is clearly on track for a full ride to the college of his choice with his amazing bubble stomping, cone stacking, and parachute dancing skills.
Wait…what? Those aren’t actually a part of a real soccer game? Who cares…Lil Kickers has officially drawn me over the line into a sports enthused mama bear who will remark to complete strangers that my kid, who walked early at 9 months old, CLEARLY has an advantage over his later walking peers when it comes to baby soccer abilities. Never mind that he is more interested in counting and sorting the balls by color (he gets his innate sense of order from me, of course) than kicking the balls. This could be the start of a beautiful relationship between me and sports…oh, and my kid likes it too, lol.
Are there any activities you’ve done with your children that you NEVER expected to try or like?