By JO ABI
When my eldest child started school I was so excited.
Finally I’d get to be just like all the mums I used to see walking their kids to school and picking them up. I’d have to dress him in a cute uniform and buy stationery. I’d be a school mum! And I planned to be the best.
All the boys at my son’s school played soccer and I was desperate to be one of those mums who stood on the sidelines at games with my cute jeans and boots, sipping on my takeaway coffee and cheering as my son – who is displaying David Beckham-style talent at just five years of age – scores his fourth goal. Plus, all the other kids played soccer. That was a good enough reason to sign my kid up, right?
It didn’t quite turn out as I had hoped.
Firstly, the school outdoor soccer season is in the dead of winter and it is so incredibly cold some mornings that drinking my takeaway coffee was the last thing I wanted to do because the full cup warmed my hands so nicely. That is after I dragged my son out of bed and forced him to get dressed in his soccer uniform while he complained and moaned. “It’s too early Mum, it’s too cold!”
Secondly, my son did not like playing soccer at all. I had to drag him to training as well as to games. It got old really fast. I’d trudge behind him, pushing his baby brother across the soccer field in his pram, all of us FREEZING and wishing we were home. He wasn’t a good player either. He’d spend most of the game doing a sad walk across the field while giving me dirty looks. He didn’t even try to play properly.