San Antonio and Circleball

A toddler plus a pregnant girl plus a nine-hour car trip seemed like a bad idea, so we decided that Nathan would go alone on his soccer team's trip to the Air Force tournament in San Antonio.

A couple of days beforehand, though, I suddenly felt stir-crazy and thought maybe nine hours in the car each way would be better than staying behind in Mississippi. So we all went.


It's just as well, because it turned out Berry had so much to contribute to the soccer tournament (or "circleball", as she's convinced it's called). Come rain or shine – and there was a lot of rain – she "warmed up" with the guys, did all the stretches, and then objected long and loud to being relegated to the sidelines.


"I help Dadda!" she shouted at me over and over, "I help! I help circleball!". She was astounded that I couldn't see how useful she'd be, and beyond annoyed that I wouldn't let her on to the field.

In addition to being astounded and annoyed, she was also determined and fast – so that I spent most of our time at the games sprinting after a toddler on a mission. It's a non-amusing pastime when you're six months pregnant.


We gave up on two particularly rainy, muddy games and shopped instead (Mississippi makes even the most shopping-averse girl desperate for a decent mall... and oh boy, does Texas love malls). On the third day, the sun shone and we made it through a whole game – although the Berry sprints did prompt two toddler time-outs, where both of us sat, annoyed, in the car.


Nathan's team lost in the semi-finals, but we all left happy. Nathan got his Mexican-food fix, I got out of Mississippi, we revisited the Alamo and the River Walk, and we all had some good – and rare – family time.

And Berry left confident in the knowledge that "her" team would've won, if only mama hadn't kept the star player off the field.