A little humility

Yesterday was a tough day. We started the morning at 5:00 a.m., as we have all week. (Thank you, summer, for giving us your bright bright dawn, and denying us any sunshine or warmth. All of Seattle is singing your praises, I assure you.) By the time we made it to Adelaide's soccer practice, we had seen tears (her), gritted teeth (me), dug in heels (both of us) and an assortment of other signs of struggle. It was Parent's Day, a long awaited event in Lil Kickers' Land, a day in which the parents are invited on to the field to participate in the drills and games. And of course, the much anticipated, much discussed parents vs. kids scrimmage would be the grand finale. We have been talking about this almost every day since the last parent's day 3 months ago, when a narrow win by the kids became a much touted victory.Except, I wiped out before we even got to the scrimmage. I was trying to avoid getting run down by a pack of 4 year-old boys, and I turned, fell, and sprained my ankle. So instead of a fun soccer game with my kid we had a repeat of tears (me), gritted teeth (me) and dug in heel (my left one, trying to keep the weight off of my injured one).

As I write, I am being cared for by my "mother," who is bringing me toys and pretend movies and popcorn treats. She is actually being tremendously helpful and patient so I can stay off my ankle. Yesterday her friend's dad came and took her for a few hours, and my husband came home early to take care of dinner and bedtime. Much as I am frustrated by being hobbled like this, it is a also a forced rest, which might not be such a terrible thing. Of course, it is only 9:00 in the morning and I am completely exhausted by having to be "sister" and play "cookie store." Something tells me this will be a long day, and that resting might not be the main focus for long.