I've been trying to suppress my inner jerk, and it hasn't been easy this week. Habtamu had an awful game this weekend. We drove out to flippin' Lombard, which was 120 miles round trip, just to watch the team lose. H got injured, the extent of which is debatable, some time during the first half and did a whole lot of ball watching the rest of the game. He'd make a half-hearted kick somewhere in the vicinity of the ball, then watch the other team run by. As a soccer dad, so far that makes my blood boil the most. I'm sure he'll find some other way to tick me off, but for now, that's taking the cake.
So, you know, I tried to find something positive to talk about on the way home. His throw-ins were good. He really 'toughed it out' through his injury. Anything but what I was really thinking. We made it home in reasonably good spirits. But it's been in the back of my mind... Why is he just giving up? Why isn't he taking soccer seriously? When is he going to commit? Etc... All those things that sport Dads worry about.
Last night was rough too. Too much sugar and excitement, not enough cooldown time. Yordi got scared a couple times, I dreamt about being chased by Vampires (apparently I had too much candy too) and I didn't ask details, but the toilet upstairs flushed no less than 4 times between 6:30 and 6:45 this morning. So as I was coming home from work, I braced myself for who was going to be the biggest crabby patty when I walked in. And this is what I was met with:
That's right. My son, for the first time, had picked up a book and was reading through chapter one of Junie B Jones just because he wanted to and because he could. He would go a good 8 to 12 words before needing any help. He then read the second chapter after dinner. Chris and I high five'd in the kitchen when nobody was looking.
Yordi has already crossed the 'reading for pleasure' thresh-hold and even wrote a little story straight out of her own imagination the other day. She doesn't fear reading or sounding things out and will fudge unfamiliar words on the fly instead of getting bogged down and frustrated. Some days it's almost as if they are completely different people...
So it may not have been a banner week for soccer, but he certainly made up for it in the life skills department.