A few months ago, I found a local indoor soccer field that offered soccer to kids 18 months and up. Knowing that Luke must (non-negotiable) run everywhere and at all times, soccer seemed like a natural choice.
Luke's soccer coach has now told us on more than one occasion that he is a "natural" and "passionate." I know, I know, he says that to all the soccer moms. But Luke is a natural - he spends the majority of his time running from one end of the field to the other end, kicking the ball at full speed. (not that there is another speed . . .) He runs, shouting "soccer! kick!" over and over, till he kicks the ball in the goal and in true soccer fan fashion, screams "GOOOOOOAAAALLLLLL!" with his fists in the air. The other kids? They stand around their parents. Mine? Won't stop running. Ever.
Which often results in a meltdown or two. Or eight. (He's just "passionate.") Due to both of us having a "1-on-1" soccer experience with Luke, we've discovered that Todd and I have to go together.
The last Saturday soccer was much more successful than all previous experiences - for a number of reasons. Luke has become a little more mature, as he's reaching two and Todd and I are getting better at parenting our child. We're figuring out what works best for him and because he is such an independent kid, he just has to make choices. And we have found that with directed, limited choices, he is much more willing to following directions and not throw a fit in the process. It has made transitioning between exercises much easier.
Again, Luke would be perfectly content running up and down the soccer field kicking a ball for an hour at a time, but the coach does provide some great focus exercises at their level to improve their skills. We call this one "Three Frog Monty."
Luke's soccer coach has now told us on more than one occasion that he is a "natural" and "passionate." I know, I know, he says that to all the soccer moms. But Luke is a natural - he spends the majority of his time running from one end of the field to the other end, kicking the ball at full speed. (not that there is another speed . . .) He runs, shouting "soccer! kick!" over and over, till he kicks the ball in the goal and in true soccer fan fashion, screams "GOOOOOOAAAALLLLLL!" with his fists in the air. The other kids? They stand around their parents. Mine? Won't stop running. Ever.
Which often results in a meltdown or two. Or eight. (He's just "passionate.") Due to both of us having a "1-on-1" soccer experience with Luke, we've discovered that Todd and I have to go together.
The last Saturday soccer was much more successful than all previous experiences - for a number of reasons. Luke has become a little more mature, as he's reaching two and Todd and I are getting better at parenting our child. We're figuring out what works best for him and because he is such an independent kid, he just has to make choices. And we have found that with directed, limited choices, he is much more willing to following directions and not throw a fit in the process. It has made transitioning between exercises much easier.
Again, Luke would be perfectly content running up and down the soccer field kicking a ball for an hour at a time, but the coach does provide some great focus exercises at their level to improve their skills. We call this one "Three Frog Monty."
You know the game - let the kids see the stuffed frog, stick it under a cone and move the cones around. The kids pick the cone with the frog. And I am never taking Luke to the streets of NYC. He is terrible at this game. By process of elimination, he eventually (eventually) gets it correct, when there are no other cones left. While Luke is great with his numbers and letters, colors are coming along more slowly.
Then, when 10:30 rolls around and the meltdown is on its final countdown, you pull out the big guns - the water bottle and the pretzels. My piece of advice to all the parents out there: invest in tubs of pretzels. It is the ultimate "off switch" for the meltdown.
Luke adores soccer and will kick his own soccer ball at home for hours. As long as he can run, he is a happy camper.
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