This just in...soccer mom gone mad.

I'm sorry for the long posts but my kids love to hear a story about themselves and this blog is for them - so long stories you get.

Jude. Oh Jude. This boy has been heaven to raise. So fun. So easy. There is only one thing that has been a struggle with Jude - he's very shy.

At home he has loads of pep and personality - around people he's not comfortable with...zero (and I mean zero) personality.

Jude may be our most athletic boy. He has watched his brothers play sports for all these years asking me from the sidelines when it will be his turn. I would have signed him up the first year I could but I knew there was no way he'd actually leave Brian and I and walk out on a field by himself.

Finally this year he put his foot down and insisted that he GET IN THE GAME! So we signed him up. He couldn't wait. I've never had a boy so excited...asking me over and over how much longer he had to wait until his game. I started to believe he was going to do it! Yippee!

Game day came. We load into the car with Jude bursting, BURSTING with excitement.

We get to the field.
He freezes.
Frozen solid and hiding behind Brian's legs.

Brian sweetly tries to comfort him - Jude starts sobbing.

Well, I was mad. I had been through more than a year of this each time I took him to preschool (a story for another time) and I had learned from his teacher that I had to push him through his fear and make him do things he was scared of.

So what did I do? I went out on that soccer field and pulled him behind me crying. And there I was running up and down- chasing that ball just like the little herd of four year old's were doing...still pulling him around with me... and yes, he's still crying.

I was fully aware of what I looked like doing this. In fact, I remember taking a minute to picture just what a dork I must look like to all the parents on the sidelines. Actually, not a dork as much as a SOCCER MOM GONE MAD. I knew it looked like I was mean and determined that my kid was going to play soccer whether he wanted to or not.

In truth - I knew - All he wanted to do was PLAY!

If I had to make a fool out of myself to get him to the place he so desperately wished he could be...then that's what I'd do. By the way Brian mysteriously disappeared during all this. When we got in the car afterward he busted up laughing,"what was that?!" Shoot - I did look as crazy as I thought.

But guess what? Next game, before I even realized it, Brian was running around on that field pulling a certain crying four year old boy with him...telling him to kick it once - just once!

And guess what else?

By they fourth game....JUDE WAS PLAYING SOCCER LIKE HIS WILDEST DREAMS HAD COME TRUE! I felt like cheering from the top of my lungs, "I saw all you parents looking at me and whispering....but look what's happening now! My boy is running circles around yours! Oh what's that? Did he just score? That's right he did! Is he laughing and smiling and having more fun than anyone out there? You betcha!" Of course I would never say something like that.

And once again Jude began asking, "when is my game, when is my game?"

When I see these pictures I am still so happy.


I dedicate this post to my brave boy Jude...may you get better and better at letting your true self shine. Because you shine so bright!