When my eldest was three (maybe three and a half), we signed him up for soccer. You know the sort where it’s basically just try to get them to run in the right direction and not pick up the ball. We were hoping to introduce him to the sport and see if he liked it.
So no biggie. The next year (at four and a half) he did t-ball. He liked it well enough to play a second season but then was kind of ambivalent about the whole thing, so we let it drop.
With the youngest, we did none of those things. And now that he’s five, hubby was like, “You know, maybe we ought to give him a chance to try these things too.” He does love to run around kicking the soccer ball in the back yard so…fine. It probably is worth a shot. Except that then the eldest says, “I might like to try it again.”
But you know what? Soccer for nine-year-olds is the real thing. Practices twice a week kind of thing. (And it’s good – I get that. He’ll probably actually learn some skills and maybe do well enough to enjoy it and want to do it again.) And I haven’t heard from the youngest’s coach yet, but I’m guessing those practices will be on completely different night(s?) from the eldest. (I’m on the fence about which would be easier. Frankly, they both sound like I’m going to be running hither, thither, and yon quite a lot coming up.)
So. Soccer, here we come. Anyone else getting ready to ride this train?