Suburban weekends

Here in the suburbs where I am spending the weekend, life seems to revolve around endless sports activities.  Soccer, soccer and more soccer.  Others throw in lacrosse and baseball and there you have it…what passes for the weekends in suburbia.

It is worlds different from when I was a child.  No organized sports…unless they were organized by your neighbors.  Baseball was played in our backyard…no coaches, no refs and decidedly no pushy parents yelling from the sidelines.  Was it better than now?  Unclear.  Mostly it was different.

My parent’s life did not revolve around their kids. They did not live through us.  They loved us.  They spent time with us.  The gave us chores that had to be done before we ran out to play our dis-organized sports.  But Saturday was for catching up with housework, yard work, baking and gardening.

Now days weekends are for schlepping kids from activity to activity.  If you have more than one child you need two parents, two cars and a battle plan.

I’ve heard all the arguments for kids playing sports, especially girls.  Building self-esteem, body image, not to mention setting healthy patterns for life.  It may be working but I think it might be a generation to soon to tell.

I wonder though, what is lost.  The weekends that actually recharged you instead of exhaust you.  Weekends where the pace was slower than the pace of weekdays.  Moments of boredom because you actually had enough time to realize you were bored.

I spent several hours sitting on the sidelines of soccer games today, pondering this very thought.  It was a beautiful day.  I’ve sat out in the cold drizzle and this was much better.  But is it the only way to enjoy a weekend?  I think not.

Right now the suburban kids who spent the day being organized have congregated in our backyard.  My task…and I will not flinch from it, is to call my kids in.  They need showers and then to hit the sack.  There are more early soccer games tomorrow.  The other kids seem to play late into the night.  I’m going to be quite the popular nanny (NOT) in 5…4….3….2….1.  Here I go.

Good-night!

At the end of the day…

Sometimes all you can say is: “well at least all the children are still alive”.  Some days that is success.

Some days it is all laundry, feeding the kids, driving the kids…the small mundane moments that make up the day.  Other days it is leaving the grocery store, with out the groceries, because the two-year-old has succumbed to a massive, loud, screaming, and did I mention loud, tantrum.  The drive home…was…unpleasant.  Loud actually.  I told the screaming one that she wasn’t getting out of the van and into the house until the tantrum was over.  It was loud and long.  I threw together some sandwiches, knowing after lunch we would need to go to the store (I still needed those groceries) and get home in time for an early nap time. If she didn’t need a nap, I surely did!  She finally wound down and came in.  She snarfed her lunch and I suddenly asked her…”did you have breakfast this morning?”  In the tag teaming with her parents I’m not sure it happened.  I remember getting her a cup of warm milk and then the morning is a blur of getting to the bus stop on time and then on with the day.

Do I feel guilty?  You betcha!  Not that she couldn’t just as easily had a huge tantrum having had breakfast….gooodness know she has.  But that set the tone for the day.  With intense sibling squabbles, driving to kid activities, feeding them, squabbles and me….tired.  Really tired.

But they are all alive.  I kissed them soundly and sent them to bed.  Even better…tomorrow is a brand new day.