Soccer

The arrival of autumn means more than just pumpkins, witches, and scarecrows scattered as far as the eye can see. Before the first leaf hits the ground my kids sense the crispness in the air and know that soccer season has arrived.
Maggie is still too young to play in the local league, and Sage opted for ballet shoes instead of cleats this year. But there was no question in anyone's mind that Gabe was going to play soccer this year. (He did also wanted to play flag football ; in one of my more lucid moments, [which admittedly are as scarce as hen's teeth], I decided he must choose one or the other. Maybe next year.)

Gabe had a great season. He loves to play and is so competitive. Even when he is not playing, he paces while watching the action. (I really do think he is such a cute little guy.) As a mom it is strange to see your children grow and try things and take them so seriously--work at things so earnestly, focus so intently. I learn so many things. It is a delight to watch him play and to even watch him watching others play.
He began the season being slightly afraid of getting hit with the ball or getting kicked. In general, he did not want to be hurt. This being the case, he would run after the ball and kick it, and then back off. Or he would run laps around where the action was, never allowing himself to get too close to the ball. By the end of the season, we couldn't keep him away from the ball. They learned not to let him play goalie because he couldn't stay in the box; he would always run after the ball.
I never thought I would say this, but I love sports. I love the lessons my kids learn through participating and I love the progression that is possible just from playing a game. Play on.