Emma played organized soccer between the ages of five and eight. Sarah played a bit when she was four, and every year since. She’s playing again this summer. We’ve become pros at the soccer routine.
Soccer night is divided into (a) practice and then (b) a game against another team. It adds up to 90 minutes worth of running around. At this age it’s fairly non-competitive. They don’t keep score, for starters. There are some kids that are starting to take it seriously, but there is also a whole pack of other kids who just stare at the clouds and pick flowers in the grass. After the game all the kids get a snack, which the parents all take turns bringing. Tomorrow is the last practice, and it’s our turn.
Part of me feels like a scrooge even admitting this here (because I know there are a million or two moms who will disagree and think that I’m just being a total spoil sport) but I think our kids are oversnacked as it is and they really don’t need ANOTHER opportunity to snack after a measly hour-and-a-half of physical activity. What kind of message is this sending? That every time they exert themselves they deserve a snack as a reward?
“Here kids, you must be SO TIRED after all of your HARD WORK. Here’s a couple of pre-packaged rice krispy squares, a Freezie and a juice box!” Nevermind the little boy I saw drinking a bottle of Gatorade during practice. HELLO! YOU ARE NOT RUNNING A MARATHON. WATER WILL DO JUST FINE.
Why can’t the snack be up to the individual parents? If parents want to let their eats consume sugar and empty calories before they go to bed, fine. But I’d rather just give my kid a banana. If that.
I hate how we are pressured to participate in the snacking game. I know, we can just say no, and I have. The girls have brought back packaged fruit drinks which I have asked them to save for the next day. They don’t seem to mind, but most of the time I just let them have it because I don’t want to look like “the mean mom.”
One week’s snack consisted of watermelon and ice cream sandwiches. It was actually co-ordinated by one of my neighbors, a good friend of ours. The ice cream was a special treat for Sarah and she was excited about it.
All the kids were reaching into the cooler and grabbing ice cream sandwiches. One child came back twice, and again for a third ice cream sandwich. My friend asked her if she’d had two already. The kid said yes. My friend asked the kid if her mom said it was okay. The kid said yes. My friend hesitatingly let the kid take a third ice cream sandwich and we watched to see if the kid’s mother saw the transaction. She did – she was talking to someone else at the time – and she nodded her approval.
I feel slightly ill thinking that kid ate THREE ice cream sandwiches in a row. I mean, come on. Wasn’t one enough?
Now it’s our turn to bring the snack. I fear that if we bring orange slices and fig newtons there’s going to be a few kids (and parents?) who think it isn’t enough, or that it isn’t good enough. It’s rather disheartening, don’t you think?
