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This morning was Matthew's first soccer game. He has been super excited about soccer and was really looking forward to his first game. As was I. We arrived at the field and all seemed well. The boys were happy and Matthew was eagerly anticipating his game.
Shortly after we got there, Matt's coach arrived and handed out the league shirts. They had taken longer than anticipated to print, so we had to wait until today to get them. Matt chose number 2. I quickly switched his shirt and tucked in his league shirt.
Unfortunately, all the shirts were ordered in a youth size small, which on four-year-olds, looked more like a men's XL. The kids were swimming in it. All the kids seemed to take this in stride… except for Matthew. No. My kid got pissed. I don't mean kinda upset in a "little bit frustrated" sort of way. I mean he got down right, mad-at-the-world, somebody hand me a shotgun P.O.'d.
The infamous shirt…
Now, when my youngest gets it in his head that he is ticked off, there is nothing short of a nuclear weapon that could change his mind. The damage was done. The mood was set. Matthew commenced to melting down. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Rudely.
For the next two hours, as he wallowed in his sorrows over his enlarged T-shirt, he proceeded to cry, scream, yell, stomp his feet, ignore his coaches, disrespect the other players and myself, disobey, and just about anything else that he knew would make matters worse. At some point, John decided to add fuel to the fire by yelling out (loudly) if Matthew didn't shape up, Mom was going to "beat him up" when we got home. I must have turned 10 shades of red as I felt 72 eyes staring me down. The two moms sitting next to me are heavily involved in the Christian school their kids attend. They are probably on bended knee right now, praying for my salvation and my poor children. I'm thinking we shouldn't just find a new league next year; at this point, we should probably just pack it up and move.
Two "trips to the car" and one extremely angry mother later, the game mercifully ended and I gathered up what was left of my shredded self esteem and my enraged preschooler and headed home. Most of the video I managed to shoot is on the other camcorder, but I captured this little blurb on my Flip Camera for your viewing pleasure. Matt's not hard to spot. He's the one lagging behind, throwing the tantrum.
Matthew has been in Pre-K for two weeks now and he loves it! He is learning, playing, making friends, and acting as the class clown (no surprise there!). His teacher says he has an opinion on everything and has decided he is the co-teacher. She said he's really cute about making sure his classmates are "on task". She said he also provides the daily comic relief. At least she likes him... =)
Here are pictures from Matthew's first day of Pre-K.
Last Tuesday was Matthew's first day of soccer practice. He LOVES it. He's been waiting for his turn to be old enough to play an organized sport. He looked so cute in his cleats and shin guards. I'm afraid that Matthew is not afraid of anything. He is bold, energetic and confident. At one point during practice, Matthew managed to squeak one goal past the coach. He promptly did a little victory dance and yelled, "Take that, hot shot!" to the coach (!). That's my boy. =)
Here are photos of his first practice. The team shirts have not arrived yet.
I haven't mentioned Scooby lately. He's doing better... I think. Fewer items in the house have fallen victim to his teeth of death. I think, at long last, our shoes may be safe. The same, however, cannot be said of my BRAND. NEW. 4-POSTER BED. Ugh. I have waited my entire life to have a 4-poster bed and Scooby took it upon himself to "trim" the edge of one foot of the bed. The good news is that it's on the side not seen by me, unless I walk around the room. The bad news is, it will need to be sanded and refinished. I nearly killed him. For reals.
On a more positive note, now that he is beginning to learn some manners, and since he got a very large crate, he and I are starting to bond... finally. It's taken longer for me with him than any dog I've ever had. I have no idea why. I think we have been sizing each other up. I guess he finally decided that I'm okay, because he follows me everywhere. I mean everywhere. I can't get up and move three feet without him getting up right on my heels. I take that as a compliment. He's a super sweet dog; not a mean bone in his not-so-small-anymore body. Here are a few pics. He's grown even since these were taken!
The infamous foot-of-the-bed...
This next shot is random. For all of James' insistence that I'm OCD (which I am), he tends to be as well, albeit not admittedly. I came upstairs the other night to find James nestled on the couch in the game room with his abundance of electronic options lined neatly next to him. Notice they are all perfectly aligned and facing the same direction (!).
Lastly, I leave you with some photos of my 4 month old niece, Allie. I LOVE this little girl!!! Is she not the cutest little thing you ever saw?!? I took these pictures last week.
