I'm sure all of you are familiar with this logo... and I'm officially a coach this fall! They were desperate for coaches in Marika's age division... I ignored for the first plea for coaches, knowing that the commissioner (for that level) knew that I played soccer (her husband had ref'ed some of my games last summer) - and that she'd find me if she was really that desperate.
Well, she was - and she did. Since the choice was either coaching or risking Marika not having a team, it was an easy decision. I stepped up and took a team. It was bumpy at first, having one girl opt to join the wait list rather than miss one practice a week (even though I didn't have a problem with that, her mother did) - and wondering if I'd only have 6 players on my team. Luckily, a few days later I received player #7 and two days later, I found myself player #8 (a full team!).
I'm actually really excited about coaching, now, because: (1) I've got an enthusiastic assistant coach who's played since she was six, (2) we have 8 girls who look genuinely excited to play soccer, (3) two of these girls were on Mika's All-Star softball team (how lucky is that?!) and (4) only 1 of the 8 girls is completely new to AYSO. I'd never seen the volunteer spots get filled up so quickly (truly amazing!) so I'm feeling EXTREMELY fortunate to have (what appears to be) such a strong starting base of players and parents. I'm going to keep my fingers crossed... :)
Mika's coach is the same as last year and we are absolutely thrilled about it. His wife is actually the commissioner of Marika's division and she's been so helpful getting me started with my team and the necessary hoops I have to jump through. I'm also really lucky, because Mika's practice overlaps with Marika's, so we actually only have AYSO soccer 3x a week - two practices and one game a week (versus four weekdays of practice and one weekend game). I have to drop my Monday soccer league but I can continue playing on Thursdays and Sundays with no problem.
So why do I feel like Sisyphus? Getting organized as a coach for the first time has been quite labor-intensive. I want the girls to have a good experience and I want to make sure the team (and all the volunteers) can run smoothly. So, familiarizing myself with AYSO protocols and prepping drills is taking quite a bit of time. Today I stopped by Joann's to buy mesh to make soccer pinnies. Afterwards, I went to the bank to wait for our banker - and waited for more than an hour (I had emailed him last Friday but heard no response to a question that was time-sensitive). When he was finally available, he informed me that he had emailed me earlier that morning (8 minutes after I left the house, to be exact) and that since we had last spoke, the bank had raised their minimums for "assistance" (doubled the previous minimum assets) so I was actually supposed to deal with customer service on the phone, rather than to come and see him. If I hadn't been so irritated already, I might have been more humiliated! What a waste of my time...
And already, it's been such a battle trying to get Marika used to doing homework again. Thankfully, Mika's already back to reading at a ferocious pace so she's good to go. However, they are both skilled at making messes throughout the house but pretty pathetic at cleaning up after themselves. Priorities being what they are, I didn't have time to clean the house this morning so when my last soccer player (who lives nearby) came by to meet us for the first time, I was embarrassed that the house didn't look better.
"Oh," you scoff. "Couldn't be THAT bad..."
Well... we have one child who has an unhealthy attachment to big cardboard boxes and likes to drag them around the house. I fear that when she's older, she might actually enjoy being homeless because she pretends to live in these boxes. She even once said that she "might" share one of her boxes with Mika, if Mika was ever homeless. ?! My goodness!
So... perhaps you feel the pain of my futility... to try to clean frantically when necessary, but encountering all sorts of resistance so that the final end result is nowhere near what I would have preferred. And yet... I'm still the one ultimately responsible...
I know, I know... one of these days, I'll be crying because I miss the girls and their messes, because they're all grown up and have become sullen teenagers who growl at me and text frantically on their cell phones...
Maybe....
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