Secret Soccer Mom Society

By Holly Giles | Great Outdoors

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 This is our first season of playing a sport. Grant wanted to try
soccer this season, so we joined our city’s league. I wish someone had told 
me about the secret soccer mom society before I showed 
up in my grungy shorts!

    Our whole family showed up for the first practice like it was the first day of school.
We didn’t know where to go, what to do or where to sit. We are outdoor sports people, but sports like archery and skeet. We have never done anything that involved a ball. 
I won the award for “worst soccer mom” right off the bat because I forgot
 to bring Grant water to drink.  He was soooo thirsty from all the running.  
We learned real quick that the bleachers were rough on our backside, so chairs were
a must.  Everyone else already knew this. They were sitting in comfy folding chairs.
Grant had practice twice a week and a game each Saturday.  After a few practices, I 
started to realize all the moms dressed in cute spandex outfits and nicely 
combed hair, at 6:30 in the evening.  Hmm, I am lucky enough to get out the door in
 a shirt that doesn’t have a stain on it and make sure I am not wearing my
 “house shorts.”  The ones that are not fit for public display,
 let alone an outfit that matches. My hair is another issue. 
 Trust me, you do NOT want to see me in spandex. 
Then, on game days I saw that most moms were wearing those cute jeans
with all the rhinestones on the behind.  It was like sparkle city on the soccer field
with the sunbeams bouncing off all the rhinestones.  Do you have a pair of those
jeans? I don’t because for some reason all those rhinestones don’t make my butt
look cute like other women, they just make mine look big…ger. 
Strike two for me on the soccer mom team.  
Please don’t think I am making fun of these moms.  I applaud and compliment them
 for having the energy to get dressed in their best and show up put together, because
 I apparently can’t!!
 I am dog tired by 6:30 from teaching math, writing and history
 and chasing after boys hiding in trees from math, writing and history!! Then we have
 to find all the soccer gear and hope I washed his one pair of shorts and soccer socks,
 and cook dinner in time to be out the door at 6:15.  

 My husband and I show up for practice and plop our behinds in our old 
aluminum fold up chairs with the weave fraying around the edges. 
 We sit for one hour. 
I am just gonna say it. Sometimes it is the best hour of the day. Sitting. No one
needs anything from me, no one is fighting with their brother.
 I don’t have to get out of my chair for a whole hour.
So, maybe it is my fault that I don’t know about the secret soccer
 mom society of spandex, cute jeans and the snack.  Yep, I said SNACK.  
After each game, Grant came over with a drink and a snack. I wondered where
the stuff came from. My husband and I had the impression that the city
brought coolers with drinks and snacks for the players. Yea we are newbies.

When the season was about over, Grant discovered that it was moms of the
players who brought the snacks each week.  He wanted to know why I did not
bring snacks. Great, now I have embarrassed my eight-year-old.  
 It was bad enough that I sank in my chair each week wearing stained clothes and
 holey shorts, now I have tipped the scales for not knowing about THE SNACK. 
He hounded me every day until the next practice so I could talk to the coach 
about the snack. Apparently, a list went around the first week to sign up,
 I never saw that.

Our season has been good. We obviously have a lot to learn about being
soccer parents.  Maybe I will find the time next season to dress a bit better
and mingle with the moms. We did buy a big orange water jug and you can be 
sure I will hunt down that snack list and sign up for several games!
See ya on the field!


About the Author

Holly Giles is a wife, mother, and storyteller. As an author and Florida Master Naturalist, she writes about heritage homemaking skills, motherhood, and why Florida offers the best hidden natural gems to explore as a family.