Later.

I think I’ve said “later” 425,000 times since yesterday afternoon.

I made a big mistake. A big mom mistake. I brought Leah home some new shorts for soccer, and when she woke up from her nap I asked her to try them on for me. Well, what do you think she thought?

She thought it was time for soccer.

Or, ball, as she calls it.

Oh, boy. Starting then, I (well, I hated myself) and I also started trying to explain to her that we would go to soccer later. Tomorrow (today). Later. Later. Later. We will go to soccer later.

She hasn’t forgotten – even overnight. The very first word out of her mouth this morning when she saw me was, “ball!” Later, baby. Later. Tonight. After dinner. Later. We will go to soccer later.

Later.

I know she really has no concept of time, nor does she really understand what later means – but it’s the best I can come up with for now. She certainly doesn’t understand 6:30… so later has to work. Even though it’s clearly not.

I smile every time though, I love it. She is so stinking excited!

I never thought I’d be one of those parents. Who has their kid in multiple activities… at age two no less! Going back to judgy moms, I probably would have done some serious internal judging. How exhausting for that poor child – dragging them everywhere at all hours of the day! Rushing through dinner and ignoring family time. It just proves you can’t judge a mom – you don’t truly know their kid. You don’t know what they can handle or what they enjoy.

We had ourselves a Leah. Who doesn’t want to sit, ever. Who has to move and run and jump and swing and spin and kick and bounce and climb and throw at every waking moment. She moves until the very last second she falls asleep – most of the time it looks as if her little body has passed out from exhaustion in the middle of an activity.

What do you do with a kid like that??

Well, you find what they seem to like the best and you scout out area classes and you drain your bank account to sign them up. You put them in some kind of energy draining class in hopes they will find some kind of fulfillment. That they will play with other kids and learn to follow instructions from someone other than you.

In our case, you sign them up for two 45 minute classes a week. Soccer and gymnastics. The most running/flipping/swinging/coordinating/kicking classes you can find. And you hope they enjoy them. And you really hope they return to you tired!

The proof that we are not screwing Leah up by putting her in two sports at age 2 is the fact that I have said later a million times in the past 24 hours. That we have to talk about what she will do tonight at “ball” with her dad over and over and we have to youtube videos of soccer just to satisfy her need to obsess about it for the day. And the fact that on Thursday’s I have learned that I cannot under any circumstances tell her it’s gymnastics day until 15 minutes before we walk out the door or else she will take all of her clothes off (if they aren’t already), go find her leotard, put it on, and stand by the door saying, “car?!” until we leave.

It’s exhausting. She’s exhausting. But in just 4 hours I get to watch her and Kyle run up and down the soccer field like maniacs and be thankful that we rushed dinner to get her out there as soon as possible! And next week… she will have no knowledge of this class until after dinner.

Think, Maria, think!

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