The girl had Mari by a few inches and at least 20 lbs, and she wasn’t afraid to bulldoze my baby whenever the soccer ball came near. I saw her checking my child -- slamming her girth against Mari’s sides, elbowing her, tripping her with her humongous cleats. Mari, in her first season of soccer, was frustrated by it -- couldn’t figure out how to get past this wall of a girl without being hit/pushed/sliced/knocked down. By game’s end, my Mari was near tears. And when the two teams lined up to shake hands and congratulate each other for a game well played, the little/big girl punched my child in the back. Just flat out punched her in the back and walked away!
Now, you should know I’m not afraid of any 9-year-olds. And, with Mari crying in my arms, I made a point of telling the girl and her coach that there wouldn’t be too much more punching going on on that soccer field. I was mad as heck.
And my husband was mad at me.
To read more about Nick's TOUGH LOVE on the soccer field, check out my latest blog on THE PARENTING POST.