The diary of a football mum {Part 2}

The diary of a football mum {continued}…

I feel like my football mum status may have stepped up a gear since I last wrote this post.

I always knew that George would have a passion for football. Some would say it is in his genes, he is following in Mr H and Granddads footsteps. He just loves to play football. A ball follows us wherever we go. He loves to play it, watch it, read about it, this boy loves the game. He has his favourite players and is always learning new facts about them. And recently I’ve found him searching for football skills on You Tube.

I had hoped the days stood on the sidelines in an evening three and four times a week were a few years away. He’s still so little. Apparently not. Mr H laughed. Somehow I think I’ve been had.

George has trained with a group on a Friday evening for two years now. Recently he joined an actual team which train on a Tuesday evening and play matches on a weekend. I had hoped that was it. Three out of Seven days focussed on the game was ok. Hence my first post. Adapting to a new style of weekend around football matches and training sessions. I was so blooming excited, I still am – watching him play in a match is amazing. I’m so proud. Two sessions in the week and a weekend game I can cope with.

What happened next is where I’m struggling. And don’t get me wrong, my gorgeous boy is so important to me, as is allowing him to follow his passion. Football is his game. And I love that he wants to go to all these training sessions, I just hadn’t realised it would mean me giving up two of my evenings where I would usually train. A girl has to train, and for those of you that know me will appreciate what my training means to me. I find myself struggling with the balance and guilt of my own training over George’s. Mr H often has to work the two additional training evenings so it falls on me. And that’s where I am struggling.

Monday’s, Tuesday’s, Thursday’s, Friday’s and Saturday’s will never be the same again. I’ve swapped my spinning shoes for trainers, a hat, gloves, scarf and an umbrella. Wish me luck. As I write this post I am frantically checking the weather app on my phone wondering if tonight will be the night. When the heavens open, when I am stood on the sidelines watching George Archie in a football training session in the cold and pouring rain. The car is too far from the pitch for me to hide so getting wet it is then.

Any tips on how to stay positive? I’m really not good in the rain. You might laugh but seriously, I draw the line at rain. Dare I say, Mr H signed our gorgeous boy up to these classes – he should be the one to get wet right? Oh Mr H. And George Archie, if you ever stumble across this post in later life – I really hope that you are the next Pogba! All is forgiven.

I love you George Archie x x