![]() Tome after tome offers encouragement and advice for new moms drowning in hormones and guilt in their office cubicles, because their phones have lit up with a picture from day care or the nanny, of their kid happily eating his first banana. Start reading, though, and you’ll find they’re nearly all aimed at young parents at the beginning of the whole enterprise. I swear there are a million well-meaning books about the juggle, and work-life balance, and leaning in and leaning out, and how you can have it all just maybe not all at once. Ninth grade slides into 10th slides into 11th. That next time, I’d figure out a way to be there, deadlines be damned, screaming myself hoarse on the sidelines.Įxcept that the years slip by. I was … not so okay with this, but I consoled myself with the knowledge that there would always be another game. His dad attended every game he could the other parents cheered James on he came home and gave me the play-by-play at dinner. James was, actually, mostly okay with this. Technology makes possible many once-impossible things, but our broadcast engineers have yet to figure out how I might anchor a daily national news program from the bleachers. This article is adapted from Kelly’s forthcoming book. Want to know what else happens on weekdays at 4 p.m.? NPR’s All Things Considered goes on air. Varsity games tend to happen on weekdays, around 4 p.m. Game time arrives and the whistle blows and James plays his heart out.Īt least, for a long time, this was what I had been told. 7-all washed and arranged at right angles at the foot of his bed. Cleats, shin guards, cherished jersey-No. ![]() This same boy clears a space in the debris to carefully lay out his uniform the night before a game. This is a boy so catastrophically, irredeemably messy that even his younger brother, also a teenager, gets grossed out by the chaos. He’s a starting striker on his high-school varsity team. Barely able to walk and already learning to dribble. There’s a photo of him, age 1-1!-tiny soccer ball at his feet and huge grin on his face. This child, whose name is James, loves soccer. The time left that the four of us will live together, under this roof, intact as a family. I’m counting the time left before my oldest child leaves home.
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