Connor decided he wants to play soccer. This was a surprise to us, because we’ve tried to explore sports with him over the last couple of years, but he hasn’t been interested.
We’ve visited Tai Kwon Do classes.
We’ve visited gymnastics classes.
We’ve visited soccer fields.
And baseball fields.
Nope, I don’t want to. Can we go to Chuck E. Cheese? I don’t want do play sports.
Sure. No pressure. We just want you to know that you have options.
He must finally be ready because, during the holidays, he started talking about soccer. We talked about what it means to be part of a team. And we talked about how he will have to finish the season, no matter what, once he makes the commitment. Plus, it costs money, and I’m not throwing away money on something he doesn’t stick with.
We gave this a lot of thought, wondering whether we should pursue a regular soccer group, or something through Special Olympics. Connor falls somewhere in the middle of needing extra support, and being able to keep up with typical peers. It’s a tough spot to be, because it makes choices difficult to make.
We had to make a similar choice back in the days of needing daycare. We went with a typical daycare, which ended up being a very bad decision and a source of much grief. The last thing we wanted was for this to turn into another situation where Connor feels anxious and can’t cope.
Luckily, we found a typical league with non-competitive teams. We chose this option because we felt like Connor didn’t need the level of support that others require that choose Special Olympics.
And I worried. I worried and fretted and stressed about how things would go when the season started.
It started this week.
So far we’ve had one practice meet, and it went well. Connor followed along with the drills and practice, and only lost focus a couple of times. I was a bundle of nerves until it was over. And then we were in the car and headed to get him a Happy Meal, congratulating him over and over for a great practice.
I think it’s going to be okay. She says, with cautious optimism.
So I guess we’re sports parents now (not the bad kind). At least for the next 10 weeks.