Sports for kids

It’s starting already. Now that my son has turned three, I look through the county activities and see things like T-ball for preschoolers. Soccer for preschoolers. Swimming lessons. And I think of how I was never involved any any team sports, except during P.E. Yep, I was always chosen last on teams. :loser: I hated it. I didn’t think I was that bad, really, just inexperienced.

Because of this, I feel the deep, urge to enroll my son in sports. Lots of them. I want him to be the athlete every kid wants on his team. I want him to be the kid who makes the home run, the kid who scores the soccer goal. I want him to be what I couldn’t be.

Instead, I can tell already that he’s inherited my genes. My darling boy can’t catch a ball to save his life. When running to kick a soccer ball, he trips over his own feet. My heart goes out to him, and again, that’s why I’m lured to the sports, thinking–if I start him now, he’ll get better by the time he’s in elementary school. Remediation! Quick, get the boy in a soccer class, stat!

Yes. I am being tempted by the Dark Side. :starwars: The power of the Soccer Moms. Must. Fight. The. Urge. To. Enroll. Him. Gaaaahh!!

He needs to just be a kid, to relax and enjoy his childhood. I know this. But at the same time, I have the urge to see him in one of those cute little uniforms as he bites his tongue and swings a bat at the ball.

Someone stop me before the madness begins!