Wednesday

                I’m sitting here listening to an “oldies station” and instead of it playing Buddy Holly; it’s playing Huey Lewis and the News. I’m pondering the drama that is our small town’s club soccer league. What I can’t figure out is how these other parents have the time or the inclination to worry if their 9 year old is being challenged enough or is developing to her fullest potential. Wait. Isn't she 9?

                Huey Lewis is asking “if this is it”. And I’m wondering the same. Frankly, when I was listening to this song the first time on my boom box in my bedroom in 1985 I did not think I would coach a soccer team that would lose players due to the team not being challenging enough. Hell, I’m not sure I even knew about soccer in 1985.

                Later when I’m relaying this weird drama to my husband he mentions that this isn't even on his radar. I get that. There’s a backhoe in our driveway fixing a long needed drainage issue. The project looks big and very expensive. We eat in silence, the kids chatter about their day, soccer tryouts and scoring, I catch him staring outside. I wonder if Huey Lewis is playing in his mind. When he was little in 1985 did he think he’d eat hot dogs on a Wednesday wondering if the most recent project was more than we could handle. Is this it?  In my kitchen I stare at my kids, we move to the next phase of the evening. The next phase of the evening can easily be referred to as “Round Up”. Everyone is in motion. Lunch boxes are checked and preloaded for the next day. Dinner dishes are cleared and cleaned. Coffee is made. Our animals are checked for food and water. Lastly the kids get their pj's on. This should be a calm time. And I've seen pictures on the internet and suggestions on Pinterest that tell me my kids should be reading a book, calmly. I have never been able to accomplish a calm evening. Even as babies it was a loud process, always ending in tears. At least now they can dress themselves.

                I take the dog out for her last walk of the evening still stuck on this soccer issue. I made promises to my younger self about how motherhood was going to look. A large part of that promise included not getting wrapped up in my child’s success as though it was me living through them. I can see now how that is so easy. I see it all around me every day. And hell yes I want my kids to be successful and awesome. However, it has to come from them. Not me. They have to want it; the biggest hurdle so far in parenting is how to show the children that desire comes from within, not external expectations. On a side note 8 years ago I would have told you that potty training, breastfeeding or sleep training was the biggest hurdle. So, you know. Perspective is everything. Finishing up our walk (which was frankly to the backyard and back) I have an image of my one daughter playing soccer. And smiling like she’s on camera. The entire game. Our team loses, but she’s still smiling. That day, just last week, on the way home she asked if she could play with her cousins. Entering the house it reminds me that I might actually be achieving what I set out to do.

                Meaning, maybe when I was listening to Huey Lewis in 1985 in my purple bedroom I was actually thinking of this day, this night and soccer drama. Maybe the details were not clear but the intention was. Pretty sure if I was able to get my twins to sleep through the night (I use that term loosely) I can also get over this next hurdle, which many refer to as the middle. Some days it’s messier than others, but it’s definitely the middle. The groundwork you laid for the last several years comes into play, kind of a precursor to the teen years, where the groundwork had better be solid. Now you can tweak, adjust as you go.

                Back in the house I’m abruptly reminded that this is in fact it. In my five minute absence a large fight escalated to the normal yelling, crying and pinching. I trudge up the stairs, listening to the hum of the shower where my husband is, pretending he cannot hear anything. The dog takes a beloved stuff animal and hides it. Screaming ensues. I tuck everyone in bed (also, remaking my 7 year old’s bed as I do every night). Kisses all around, I head back downstairs, grab my phone and a glass of Pinot. I settle in, trying to relax. I’m going to bed soon, but not before Gabe and I place bets on which child will not be able to sleep tonight and which one has homework that was overlooked. We also will recap the day, plans for the next day. And if we’re feeling really adventurous we’ll talk a little about the future, our plans, a dream or two and maybe a new goal. And then I know, I have the answer to Huey Lewis’ question.