This post is brought to you by “Boredom Busters” I am sitting in the car is the warm autumn sunshine its warm in the car! Outside the wind is cold, its autumn we expect that.
Star son is at football training, they’ve just been put into their “forever for this season” team. He’s in the Middle level so not the bottom ( we all sighed a sigh of relief at that) he’s also got a few friends from last years winning team. This years coach was last years Assistant coach so we know him, this years Assistant coach was last years runner, so we know him these two ‘Dads’ have know this team for three years so they all know each other’s skills, strengths and where they need work. This years runner is my physio ‘Mr Magic Hands‘ aka Andrew.
So this morning is our last Sunday training, their first in their teams, the real training starts Tuesdays and now Thursdays as well which tell us that Under 14’s has stepped up the intensity, it also tells me to clear my life on Tuesdays and Thursdays because l magically become that “football Mum” we walk or jog down to the oval by 5:30pm and l sit and shiver until the Bloke arrives, he drives me home to cook dinner and then he comes back to collect the mud splattered Star Son by 6:30 which inevitably means they’ll be home by 7:00pm.
No school work gets done on training nights…. Oh no!! The Bloke says “straight after dinner on training nights will be homework time” I snorted because we both know that is going to end in a fight!! I’m going to start praying now, I hate the “sport v’s real life” arguments. They go like this… “Yes you DO still have to feed the animals even though you have football training ”
“YES!! The dishes still DO need to be dried, l don’t care if you are tired!”
“ARGHHHHH, that science thing was due yesterday get it done! I don’t care if it’s 8;30pm do it now!” I REALLY Look forward to those discussions, even the cats run for cover when those talks start!!
So I have become the one thing l always thought l had escaped!! I am the tragic “Football Mum” I am there at every training session, l am usually one of the first to arrive at game day, l am the one usually “husband less” because he is the tragic “Football Dad” that is off helping somewhere maybe he is the goal keeper this week or the time-keeper next week, possible he’s the water boy.
I am the loner Mum that stands huddle in my jacket trying not to cheer when “Star Son” kicks a goal or takes a mark or l am the “tragic mother” that bites her tongue holding her breath while he’s knocked down in the mud and trampled on, l hold my breath till he gets up because “It’s not cool ” to makes a fuss when kids half his height again trample him into the mud! I am on a “Silence” rule, because “It’s also not cool” to be the loudest Mother cheering and it’s really, absolutely, definitely NOT cool to be the Mother who is telling the team how to play, l think that’s what the coaches are for. It doesn’t mean l have to agree I am just not allowed to make a fuss.
But for all the things I am NOT allowed to do, l am expected to witness every goal, mark, point and tackle, because come end of that game it’s for certain my very dirty Star Son is going to ask me “Mum did you see when l tackled number 7?? How awesome was that!” I need to have seen that! And even sometime l need to give him the thumbs up on the field so l need to watch every move he makes, just silently!!
Ahhhh the joys of Football season!!