The triplets are playing soccer this year. I regretted putting them in soccer after the first practice when I realized that they were 5 percent interested in playing the game of soccer, and 95 percent interested in wrestling and fooling around. After the first practice I told Chris “I will never take them to a practice again.” If the coaches of the U6 team want to quit, I am sure it is because of the triplets. I have apologized many times for the extreme wrestling that takes place on the field each Thursday night.
I was forced to take them to their first game by myself so Chris could take Ava to her first game. I got the short end of the stick. The triplets may be the only kids in the world whose dad zip-ties their uniforms so they will fit on them without falling off. That’s right, those uniforms are zip-tied in three places.
I get to the game where it was 100 degrees on the field and two thing happened the entire 45 minute game: 1. triplets “playing” in the game, but really just standing around doing nothing 2. triplets piling onto my lap on the folding chair so I could sweat profusely even more. The coaches separated Violet from Preston in separate games so they wouldn’t end up rolling in the grass wrestling.
Chris took them to the second game and I was relieved I didn’t have to bear witness to the waste of money out on the field; hundreds of dollar bills flying away never to be seen again. I was at Ava’s soccer game when I received a text from Chris that said, “you won’t believe how well the triplets are playing. Elsa scored a goal!” I thought he was joking. Of all kids to score a goal, I would never bet on Elsa. Apparently it was a legitimate nice looking goal.
I decided since the triplets seem to have gotten into the game of soccer now, it may be safe for me to take them to their next practice. Chris was out of town so I really didn’t have a choice. During this practice the triplets split up into pairs so they could all wrestle; it was Violet and Elsa on one team and Preston and his friend Jax on another team. Jax’s dad helped me keep the boys in line and re-focused on the game of soccer while I tried to intervene and keep the girls from wrestling. Another dad on the team told me that he doesn’t care what his kid does on the soccer field because he figures his son is now the coach’s responsibility. I wish I was able to be that strong in my transfer of power, but I was unable to watch my kids pummel each other to the ground when they were supposed to be listening to their coach and scoring goals.
The picture above pretty much sums up soccer for the year for the Woolsey kids. I think we all just want to put cones on our faces and hope it goes away soon.
When soccer is over I will let them do what they really want to do. . . ballet for the girls and baseball for Preston.
Until next time, the mothership is signing off.