Category: Neko

We were scheduled to report to the soccer field at 5pm to pick up uniforms, with practice beginning at 5:30pm. It began raining at 5:02pm and never stopped.

It rained the whole practice, but the kids hung in there. (She’s #7, y’all.) They ran and kicked and it even looked like they were paying attention to their coaches. Afterwards, hot chocolate at the coffee shop.

First game this Saturday, 11am. I’m laying bets my kid is the first one to score. In the wrong goal.

I spent much of today fretting about Neko going to soccer. I should probably backtrack.

The local college has this great little soccer program. It only lasts a month, so it’s not a big commitment, and it’s taught by the varsity women’s team, which means good role models of strong women running around being athletes. All good stuff.

We signed up last year, and Neko made it through one practice and one game before she flat-out refused to go anymore. I was ambivalent about signing her up again this year until one day we passed by the soccer fields and she shouted,”I want to play soccer this year. Yes! Yes! Yes!”

And so I signed her up. Except I think about five seconds after the check cleared, she got cold feet. I’ve been kind of hoping she would warm to the idea, so I keep casually mentioning it. And she keeps refusing.

This is extra bad because I talked my friend Nancy H. into signing up her daughter so that Neko would know someone on her team, and if we didn’t go then Mary Beth wouldn’t have a friend on the team, and, arg, you see the problem.

So this morning I decided it was time for desperate measures. Nancy had given me a hot tip that the sporting goods store had PINK shin guards and cleats with PINK stripes and PINKPINKPINK all over the place because girls and soccer and PINK all go together swimmingly.

I began with the suggestion that we have a mother-daughter outing tonight. We’ll start with dinner at her favorite restaurant (because they serve PINK hot dogs and PINK lemonade). Yay! Suggestion met with grand applause. Then we’ll go to the sporting goods store! (Suspicious look creeps onto face.) To buy soccer equipment! (Smile fades entirely.)

I don’t even know what happened next. All of a sudden I was waving my arms and talking about PINK shin guards and PINK this and won’t this be fun and omigosh somewhere the stars aligned and then she got swept up in my enthusiasm and agreed. Of course, she added that she thought we should go get ice cream afterwards. SOLD! To the five-year-old wearing inside-out red pajamas!

Somewhere in the afternoon we started doing a project with these foam balls, but it turned into a sketch of how soccer is played, which I think is mostly accurate except for the fact that I first drew the referee shirt with horizontal stripes, which I quickly corrected when I realized that referees are far more fashion-forward than that.

The night out really was wonderful. I often forget what it’s like to just have one. To have the space to breathe and just focus all my energy on just one kid. I also love the fact that most of our trip I didn’t even carry a bag—credit card and keys in one pocket, phone in the other. I could so get used to traveling light like that.

We ended the evening with PINK shin guards/socks, PINK striped cleats, a PINK soccer ball, PINK shorts and a PINK hat.

So I apologize if we’ve created some sort of shortage in the color spectrum. They’ll restock shortly.

Beanie Babies were popular when I was a young professional. I remember my coworkers with children sighing heavily when I asked what they were. And then they looked as befuddled as I when I asked the all-important question, “So what’s the big deal?” I remember thinking, “Thank goodness those will gone by the time I have kids.”

But it always something. Cabbage Patch Kids, Beanie Babies, and now Webkins.

The Webkins. They have arrived in our house. Neko found out about them through classmates who have older siblings. So far, the only online component Neko has uncovered is the fact that she can gaze at the whole product line in about two clicks.

I dread the moment when someone tells her there’s really more to it. And don’t go doing it thinking you’re all funny. You don’t want to mess with someone who’s been sleep-deprived for five years. I’m just a wee bit cranky.

Today you turned five. Of all your birthdays, other than your first, this seems like the biggest one. Up until now, you’ve been little. A baby, a toddler, and then a preschooler. But when you’re five? You’re a KID.

The morning started with a bang. You came flying into our room the minute a seven appeared on your clock, because you were beside yourself with excitement. I think this is the first year you really got the whole concept of a birthday. This is the day you turn older which means you’re bigger and you get to do more things, and most importantly, there are presents!

Your gifts were good ones this year, if I do say so myself. You got the Playmobil brachiosaurus you’ve been longing for. And the octopus from The Octopus Under My Bed, sewn by the author’s wife. Rolls of painter’s tape in seven different colors. A Nekosaurus shirt from Alex & Jett (to whom I must give an extra “hooray!” plug because I mistakenly had it shipped to wrong address and she hustled and paid extra shipping to get it to me on time).

Your last gift was your new booster seat. I know it seems like a bit of a strange gift, but it is one you really wanted. You’ve peered into the cars of your friends and noticed they are riding in “big kid” seats. As much I’d like to keep you tethered to a seat with an eighteen point harness, I have to admit it was probably time to move up. Your fifth birthday seemed like a good time. It made it special as well as setting a precedent so that Shep isn’t asking for a new seat tomorrow.

Once you opened it, I spent my shower time rearranging car seats and figuring out the best spot for everyone. I gave you a choice of anywhere you wanted to go today, from the zoo to the dinosaur museum, and of all places, you chose the McDonald’s Playland with the candy cane striped slide. Which, okay, I’ll take the Neko who’s easy to please. As you settled into your new seat and pulled the real seat belt over your lap, you could barely contain your beaming smile. I think you were trying to play it cool, but you finally erupted into a peel of excited giggles.

A bit later, I turned around to see how you were doing, and there you sat, legs crossed with your cheek resting in your hand. Smiling quietly, you looked every bit as if our next stop would be soccer practice where you’d hop out of the car and run off to your life that has less and less to do with me.

I know this sounds like I’m sad about you getting older, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m so proud and honored to see who you’ve become. You’ve worked so hard on the things you find challenging, and have flourished at the things you do well.

Happy birthday, smunchkin. I think I’m going to like having a five-year-old around the house.

There are moments in parenthood when I just shake my head and wonder if when I wasn’t looking my kid ran off and attended art school or something. I mean, doesn’t she NEED me for these things?

Today she was flying around the house in a flurry before we left to run errands, yelling “I just need one more minute!” as she zoomed out of the room with another item tucked under her arm. I was busy gathering diapers and cups, so I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was up to.

Just as we were about to walk out the door, she came bursting out of her room with this dog. On her own she had cut out the pieces, molded them around some balled up socks (for structure), and constructed all the other parts.

“Shep needed a dog friend for his Webkin dog. And he really likes green.”

And with that, she plunked him on the table, got her coat, and headed for the car.

I’m not really sure I totally understand this drawing. Neko was Star of the Day in preschool, so her name badge figured prominently into the whole thing. I think it involves some sort of contest between the dinosaurs and the thing at the top is a trophy of some sort.

Even though I don’t get it, I’m really enjoying seeing all the thought that’s going into her pictures these days. She’s not just drawings things…she’s drawing IDEAS. Plus, she pointed out that she made the spikes on the stegosaurus’ back out of R’s, which I think is brilliant.

This drawing alone was worth every penny we paid for the visual dictionary.