The first female President of the United States, the first female Police Chief, first female to play professional soccer...do you see a pattern? How many times have I answered that question (and still answer it)? The last of nine kids, 6 of which are men that think it is funny to make fun of little sisters, I obviously felt like I had something to prove. But what? That I could kick a boy in the shins harder and faster than he could kick me? Or naming 10 vegetables while my brother was thumping his finger on my forehead? Proving that girls were better than boys at ANYTHING? Yes, my first musical song I remember hearing is "Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better." Well, thirty-something years later, I strongly deny that I am trying to prove anything, proving that there is no obstacle that I need to be better than, because I am proof enough that I can do anything that I set my mind to...wait...I am doing it again.
When I ask myself that same question now, I think to myself that anyone outside of my own head would say that when I grew up, I wanted to be typical. A typical mother who buys the typical cereals for her kids, typically watching Heroes, typically buying my clothes at the same stores that my other typical mother friends buy, typical, typical, typical. Then why do I seem so atypical in my head? Surely I am not like every other thirty-something mother of four. Why am I not the first female police chief? What happened to my dream of playing professional soccer with the men of the world? Why am I not the first female President of the United States? Well, I think I just wanted to prove that I could be any and all of those things. The only thing I didn't want to be is TYPICAL.
Typ-i-cal: the dictionary defines it as 1) exhibiting the qualities, traits, or characteristics that identify a kind, class, group, or category; 2) of or relating to a representative specimen; characteristic or distinctive; 3) conforming to a type; 4) of the nature of, constituting, or serving as a type.
Well, I am typical. I am either a typical thirty-something trying typically not to be typical or a typical woman proving that I can do anything better than...yep, you. So gloriously, boringly typical. So, over the next month, I am going to go through my typical life as seen through my atypical mind. And I am relating it to the one constant thread in my life (besides my family) since the age of four...soccer.
Everything I need to know I learned through soccer. I just thought I was so naturally gifted at the age of four that my parents put me on my older sister's soccer team. My socks came up to the middle of my thigh, my shirt hung out the bottom of my shorts which came down past my knees. But that didn't matter because I took my soccer very seriously. Run after that black and white ball and kick it before anyone else could. I knew I was kicking it the right way according the cheers of jubilation or dismay from the parents of my teammates. That was it, kick the ball so people would cheer me on. I must have had god-like talent for my parents to have me playing at such a young age, right? Well, turns out that I had god-like energy, not necessarily talent. So what better way to have the last of nine kids release her energy and give her mom and family a break than running my heart out for an hour playing soccer. But that revelation did not take anything away from my passion for soccer. And it took nothing away from what I learned--do something good so people would cheer me on.
Wow my parents with my amazing vocabulary at the age of 5. Astound my teachers with my meticulous handwriting. Sing to the delight of my siblings...wait, that never happened. So I stopped singing because there was no applause. I learned very early on to please those around me because what made others happy made me happy.
That still applies today as a wife, a mother, a businesswoman, and a friend. Sitting through 120 minutes of men shooting everything up means more nights out with my husband :) Bringing treats home for my kids after a long day of work means at least 60 minutes of laughing and peace. I do so much in my life to control the environment around me by merely manipulating others so that they are cheering me on rather than getting in my way.
Now the glorious part of this typical nature of me as a woman? I love it. I love pointing out flaws in the unbelievable maneuverings of men hurling through the air shooting and hitting their mark without breaking a sweat and I love that my husband wants me to sit by him during those movies. I love seeing the joy that ice cream can bring to four children. I love the feeling of kicking a ball perfectly so that it flies through the air and ripping against the net. Joy. Typical joy.
The downfall of making sure everyone is happy around me? I can't make everyone happy. But I can make people know that they will forever be OK, perfect even, in my eyes. Not easy, but absolutely joyful.
Anecdote of the day: walking into my parents' living room in time to see my 6 year old daughter making a tent out of my dad and the couch he was sleeping on. She was happy and my dad had no idea that he was being manipulated.
Soccer quote of the day: "The rules of soccer are very simple, basically, it is this: if it moves, kick it. If it doesn't move, kick it until it does." author unknown
What did you want to be when you grew up?
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