The T-Rex is Mine...

When I was nearing the end of my pregnancy with Connor, I was hanging out at my parents house, munching on some chocolate chip cookies. I had one in my hand and one resting on my huge belly. All of a sudden, the cookie resting on my stomach started to move. My mom and I sat, awestruck as the cookie went from one side of my pregnancy-bloated belly, to the other. We called my husband into the room to watch the show. He grinned from ear-to-ear - it looked like we had an athlete on our hands!

Cut to four years later. It's Connor's first soccer pratice. Another mom walked up to me and gave me the standard getting to know you greeting: "So, which one is yours?". I scanned the field until my eyes rested on Connor. He was on the field, totally uninterested in what was going on around him, bent at a sixty degree angle, arms bent, close to his body, hands in the shape of claws, rolling his neck, and - roaring. With a sigh I told her - the T-Rex was mine.

She gave a little laugh then wandered away. And so began Connor's athletic activities. The T-Rex lingered for the entire season. The next season brought on sitting down in the middle of the game, every game. The season after that was the year of spontainious hugging - other players, some he didn't even know. And so on. We tried other sports: karate- he didn't like all the yelling, swimming- didn't like getting his face wet, baseball- didn't want to wear a cup (an errant pitch to the groin took care of that sport), tennis- didn't want to move his feet - he actually seemed amazedwhen the ball didn't come directly to him. Eventually, against my judgement we tried football. That didn't work either - the pratices were to hard, not enough playing time, to much equipment, the coaches didn't like him -blah, blah, blah. Basketball came along and much to our amazement - he loved it!! Yay! We found Connor a sport! Then we saw him play. My son runs like he just got off a horse, was afraid of the ball and kept getting called for lane violations. Who cares - Connor found a sport! Now during all this, every fall and spring we put him on the soccer team. For six years we hauled ourselves around to soccer games and not once did Connor manage to touch the ball - until this year. All of a sudden he's passing, and he came thisclose to getting a goal last week! Whats going on - is he a late bloomer? Or did the combination of our persistance and some great coaches finally take effect? Who knows? Frankly, who cares!

Now my son Aidan is playing his first year of soccer. We felt sure he was going to be our athlete - the child never runs out of energy. When he was two he ran a mile! He has well-developed calf and arm muscles like I've never seen on a kid. He's also crazy competitive. Needless to say, I was looking forward to watching the kid play sports. So, when I took him to pratice I was ready for THE question. Sure enough, a mom came over and asked which one was mine. I scanned the field with what I hoped was well concealed pride. The I saw him - standing in the goal, one leg as high as his shoulders - stuck in the netting. With a sigh I told her - mine was the one literally, in the goal. Here we go again...