In soccer, there are no timeouts.
Life’s like that, too. I struggled over the timeout I tried to call Friday. It’s been a weekend. It started with the ultimate blogger whine of “I can’t do this right now” and led to other failures and misfires. Among them were:
- A lost parking pass
- A dollar-store cool-looking charging cord that doesn’t actually charge
- The decision to actually write a Monday post at 1:09 a.m
I like that there are no timeouts in soccer, though.
There are few timeouts in life. Things keep rolling. Planets spin and Broncos win and my Stormtrooper cup constantly needs refilling. It’s like that in parenthood.
You have to wait for those chances the ball goes out of bounds to catch your breath.
I smartly heard a coach for a club I don’t care much for yell to his players “get where you belong first, then rest.”
You look for those moments to catch your breath. Sometimes, it’s just for a moment, when your sidekick horses around on the No. 11 tee pad with a huge tree branch she found. Or when she stops to snap pictures of moss growing on the trees. And then, you notice the moss, too.
When that ball flies out of bounds, you don’t have time, but you assess.
You realize your baby is now a senior in high school. Not the freshman phenom (maybe her sister will be?), but a tried and true leader, THE goalkeeper, and the homecoming queen.
That her sister will be a teammate. She’s a freshman with an upperclassmen’s glare. I like that.
And also that the youngest is now into double digits for age. That she’s in that beautiful age when intelligent conversation roams about, but also hand-holding and all-around general snuggling-type activity.
Big enough to think, small enough to need her dad. And boy, does her dad need her. It’s been a wonderful ride with that kid.
Not that I will them to stay small.
I revel in their growth. Seen and unseen. To see one so in love. To watch another heighten her beast skills. Yet another dump out a box of LEGOs when I’m around. It takes time to create and build and it leads to time together and great conversation. And if we can’t stop this world from spinning, at least we should create and build and love and grow.
I kiss my girls on the forehead a lot. The middle girl said, “why do you always have to smile at me and kiss my face?”
“When you have kids, kiddo?” I tell her, “then you’ll know why.”
With no timeouts, even.