Teaching My Daughter To Be A Superhero
And how all of the little things DO make a difference.
It was the day of the Dragons’ last soccer game of the season. My daughter, an easily excitable social butterfly, was ridden with joy as the final whistle blew to end the game. She was blissfully indifferent to the devastating loss of the championship game, one that would mark the completion to her very first year in playing team sports.
She held onto her joy well after the game had ended. With her adrenalin pumping in what seemed to be a happy sort of rage, she was thrilled that we had decided to stay late and let her kick the ball around with one of her equally exciteable and competitive teamates. Everything was going well. The girls were laughing with one another, constructively taking in each others play feedback, and disregarding the provoked “bossiness” in their attitudes.
But then, the proposed idea of playing half field one-on-one derailed the positive atmosphere and lit the flame under what would become a long and drawn out battle for peace. My daughter didn’t want to play that way, she didn’t want to run the field, and she didn’t want to be told to do so. Getting to the car and going home didn’t alleviate the situation. It was all pushing and pulling, begging for her to calm down, and scorning her for her behavior.
