Yesterday was the, ahem, kick-off to Stella’s first soccer season. And for those who haven’t witnessed the joy and splendor of the Under 6 category of youth soccer, you have not lived the joy and sorrow of life. And Stella was no exception. Anyone who has ever met my daughter will back me up when I say that this girl was built for physical activity. It’s a perfect trifecta of 1.) physical powerhouse, 2.) bottomless pit of energy, and 3.) a relentless desire to be a participator. And let me just say that in sports, this girl has found her calling.

She went to her first practice on Tuesday where we met her new team-mates and coach. And can I just say that when I use the word “practice” I am using this term in its loosest possible definition. Watching a group of 4 and 5 year olds vie for control of a mini-soccer ball is like watching an drunk swarm of bees. With crying.

I was thrilled to find that their coach is the embodiment patience and enthusiasm. He interjected nothing but fun, supportive and happy mojo throughout the entire process, and was quick to accommodate in whatever way made the process a positive and fun experience for these aspiring footballers. Pervasive throughout each moment of joy and sorrow there was one consistent and clear message: just have fun.

As for my girl, she wore her uniform every day for the three preceding days leading up to the game, however had a somewhat disappointing experience when attempting to do some home practicing. Yes, we have a great yard for kicking the ball around, but we also have a dog who can fit the entire ball in his mouth – and subsequently run off with it. Cue the crying…and the 4-year-old equivalent of cussing out the dog.

And although practice was entertainment worthy of network television, I knew that game day was going to be the epicenter of color-coordinated soccer-loving crazy. Their games are not officially scored, and the refs were well versed in the enforcement of emotional harmony over strict adherence to official league regulations. Want to shoot your goal into the neighboring field’s net? Sure! Covertly use your hands to bump the ball back in the other direction? Well, okay. Just this once. Need an emergency pee break mid-quarter? No problem. We’ll see you when you get back.

Life moves so quickly these days, and my ability to blur out the rest of the world and reflect entirely on my kids as individuals doesn’t come nearly as frequently as I would like. Yesterday was a gimme. There was no way I could look out on that field at that little girl so earnestly participating and not feel nostalgic. Once that first whistle blew, and she was out there on that field she was wholly engrossed in the task at hand, running and kicking her little heart out – and sometimes even within the boundaries of the field she was playing in.