I spent the morning watching AJ have his first ever soccer practice. He has been so excited about this that he could hardly stand it. Yesterday afternoon, when he woke up from his nap, he thought it was time to go (he frequently thinks it is the next day when he wakes up from his naps) and got upset when I informed him that it wasn�t until the next morning, whereupon he VOLUNTEERED to go back to bed and sleep until it was time to go. Clearly we will have to sign him up for more sporting events.

It was chilly this morning and he was not at all happy about being forced to wear a turtleneck underneath and a sweatshirt over his new red shirt. We arrived at the soccer field to find it awash in parents and children. We quickly realized we have a lot to learn as proper soccer parents. For one thing, we didn�t bring coffee. For another, we don�t own folding chairs. Our worst offense, however, seems to have been in failing to dress in athletic gear ourselves. Having been under the impression that it was the children who were playing, it didn�t cross my mind that I would be committing a fashion faux pas in wearing a sweater and clogs with jeans. It seemed the most innocuous kind of parental outfit. However, apparently I need a tracksuit if I want to blend in with the crowd.

AJ was the smallest guy on the field (including the girls) � he just barely made the age cutoff for the league. He looked so little sitting out there waiting to be assigned to a team that it was hard not to rush the field to help him out when he got confused and started to run off to play with the team on the next field. After AJ was corralled and seated, the coach, with a stellar south London accent that leant him an air of authenticity, told them all to call him Coach Monkey, which they did with relish. AJ was so enthusiastic, but completely unclear on the concept of the game. He seemed to be most concerned with never letting his sight from his ball and never getting anywhere near any other kids, including when they were charging towards him as he was supposed to be defending his goal. He was the spirit of cooperativeness, especially with members of the other team. He was in dreamland and missed half the instructions, but he was having fun and it was a joy to watch.

At the end of the practice, each kid was given his or her very own soccer ball. AJ was in awe and hasn�t let it out of his sight since. After demanding only soccer stories at bedtime (a request that was more than a little limiting and involved some creative interpolation on my part), he tucked his new soccer ball in beside him in bed. �Goodnight, soccer ball. I can�t wait to play with you later.�

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