Why we make ourselves miserable

So yesterday at 6:30am - I found myself lamenting my early hour and the impending tasks of the day. I wondered why we did it. Why we found it necessary to wake three warm sleeping children and bundle them in soccer clothes and drag them out to a field to shout at them while they ran around in the frosty air and chased a ball. 

It seemed a little bit like kid torture for a second (and parent torture to boot) 

Then I remembered. 

I remembered when the little girls in their little uniforms laughed and held hands. 

I remembered when they listened to their coach and exercised their bodies and their minds.

I remembered when all the Mommies and Daddies sitting in our little folding camp chairs that we carry with us everywhere laughed and shared stories as we drank our coffee and watched what was most important to us. 

I remembered when we cheered and they smiled and raised their little arms in victory. 

I remembered when the whole team came back to our house and we lit a fire and I made up a double batch of pancakes and everyone chipped in to help. 

I remembered when the little girls laughed and ran upstairs as the Mommies and Daddies sat together downstairs and talked. We talked of hobbies and babies and jobs and life and the pta and life in general. We talked of holidays and funny things. 

I remembered why we make ourselves miserable and I was so grateful. 

Then we rested - and we got to do it all over again for the 7:00pm U7 game. 

and I remembered again.