Friday was the 5th birthday of my oldest son.
As some of my friends would like me to remember, it was a mildly traumatic birth in that, he was nearly born at home, the car, the parking lot of the hospital and finally, the elevator. My labor was a mere hour and a half (which I went on to beat! Thank you Libby!) and he was born a quick and scary 12 minutes after arriving at the hospital.
Worth it? Sure.
A couple of months ago, we decided to sign him up for Soccer through the YMCA this fall. It was a weird choice to have to make. Sign him up to play with the 3-4 team or send him off to fend for himself with the 5-6s. We opted to go with the 3-4s.
When you're talking about 3-4 soccer it's like the punchline to an untold joke. You expect flower picking and bird watching and very little actual soccer playing. So, you can imagine that we were pleasantly surprised at the amount of soccer played and the fact that Miles, who is a total spazz, did quite well.