Magoo started soccer last week. Well, she was supposed to start soccer. She got her ball and her shin guards. She found her fancy princess ball cap to protect her head from the sun. She ran out of the car onto the field, and then she stopped dead in her tracks. The coaches were two local male college students, and they scared the crap out of her. We spent about half an hour trying everything we could think of to get her to play, but it was no use. She wanted nothing to do with it.
Throughout the course of the week we talked a lot about it. She claims she was scared of the men because they were wearing black baseball caps. But I think the real problem was that they weren’t kids, but they also weren’t quite adults. She told me repeatedly that they were boys but not daddies. And that threw her.
So flash forward to today. We had been talking about this practice all week. She had decided that there was no reason to be scared and that she was going to play soccer. She was a bit quiet on the way to the park, and when we got there, she bravely got out of the car. TJ held back a bit and got the Goose out and situated while I took Magoo onto the field. She saw the scarier of the two coaches (the one with the black hat AND the black hair,) and again I saw her whole little body tense up as she started hiding behind me.
I pretended not to notice, and I asked her if she wanted to kick the ball with me. She summoned her courage and agreed to kick the ball back and forth. Slowly, we got closer and closer to Coach Kyle until she was standing next to him. He called the kids for practice to start, and I walked over to where the parents sit. She proceeded to participate in the entire practice.
Every fifteen minutes or so, the coaches call for a water break, and all the kids run over to their parents to get something to drink. The first time she came running, I had to hold back the tears because I had never seen her like this. She practically came flying across the field to us. Her face was bright red from the heat, and her little pony tail was bobbing up and down. But the look in her eyes was what got me. I have never seen her so thoroughly proud of herself. Her eyes were literally dancing.
She finally reached us, and both TJ and I gave her huge high fives and told her how proud we were of her. She told us how much fun she was having, and then she started chugging the water. It was time for her to go back onto the field and she gave us the water bottle and turned to run back when she stopped in her tracks and pivoted back to us. She stuck her head all the way into the Goose’s stroller, and said, “Hey Goosie, I’m really doing it Goose!” and ran back on the field.
Perhaps to people who aren’t Magoo’s mom this story won’t have quite the emotional appeal, but there was something 
about seeing a little person who you love more than the sun and the moon and the stars running at you with eyes overflowing with pride that makes me wonder why anyone wouldn’t want children. You can’t really describe in words why they make your life so full, but it’s the little moments like these that happen daily that make it worth all of the sleepless nights, worry and mess.
Kids live in the moment, and they don’t hide their feelings all that well. Looking into the eyes of a child allows you to look straight into the human spirit unadulterated by broken expectations or unfulfilled wishes. It’s real and it’s pure and it’s what keeps every mom crying silent, happy tears a million times in a lifetime and that will always make her come back for more.