Soccer Mom Fail

Tonight I learned something about myself that I never in a million years would have imagined was possible; I make a better dance mom than soccer mom.  I am positive my friends are laughing right now, especially Jennifer L., who just a few years ago had to do A1's hair and makeup for her first recital because I was too "Not a Dance Mom" for that.  I was convinced that I would never be able to do the girls' makeup, let alone enjoy doing it. I was raised in a sports family not a performing family but she taught me all I needed to know and she really girlified me so I was better prepared to manage the A Team. 
Now I find myself in a situation where I prefer hairspray and lipstick to dirt and grass stain.  I attended the first soccer practice/game for A1 and A2.  I was a ball of nerves the entire time.  I couldn't get past the noisy chaos to enjoy any part of it.  We were lost in a swirl of team colors and noise. We couldn't find the right field because I couldn't read the darn map to save my life. I was about to give up and just go home when my mom, who came as back up, sprinted towards us because she found A2's team. She rescued A2 and took to meet up with her fellow blue teammates. I was left to find A1's team luckily I knew she was on an orange team and there were only 4 orange teams to choose from. After talking to half the orange teams we found where she belonged. 
I watched A1 for about 10 minutes and decided I had better find A2.  I was determined that even though they were playing at the same time I was going to be able to see parts of both games... I intended to go back and forth between the fields; however, as luck would have it they were playing on two fields that were almost as far apart as possible. I make it to the field A2 is playing on, she sees me, waves with satisfaction knowing I saw some of her game.  My mom had the situation under control so I decided to trek back to A1's field.  A3 voiced her opinion over the matter and ended up coming with me, only she won't let me carry her.  She has to walk.  We spend 10 minutes getting back to the field, just in time to hear the coach tell A1 she was going to get to be goalie during part of the game. WHAT!?! With her emotional dramatic nature this spelled disaster. 
I spend the entire hour wrestling an overtired 17 month, who screamed a death scream anytime I touched her.  During the few times I risked my eardrums to save her from soccer balls and players, she became a miniature mad woman; scratching and clawing at my neck and face. I missed almost all of A1's game because of A3's antics.  Any time I did get a chance to glance at the field I saw A1 doing cartwheels, handstands, and falling.  Her coach had to repeat, "Watch the ball" every time A1 became a gymnast.  I lost count at 8.  During her quarter as goalie she only let one kid score but we focused on that 1 point the ENTIRE way home.  She cried that they lost the game because she let the other team score, ignoring the fact that the score was something close to 13 to 0. 
I didn't get to see any of A2's game although it sounds like the only thing I missed was a trip to the bathroom.  My mom informed me that according to A2 she didn't to go to the bathroom before we left because I didn't make her.  I felt like I was being tattled on, because I was, and I instantly got that choking in the the back of the throat feeling, as I tried to defend myself.
I was exhausted when we left.  I felt defeated.  Soccer beat me. I need the predictability of dance. The structure of dance class.  The dirt free confined space with labeled studios.  The inside bathrooms across the hall from A2's studio. I am looking forward to October when I can be just "Dance Mom" again!

A3 weaving in and out of my legs between temper tantrums. 

A1 showing off her new accessories, goalie gloves.

 
Since A2 is the middle child and is often neglected there were no pictures taken of her tonight.  Soccer mom fail.