his outlet.

this may be what bw needed all along. an outlet. for the high adrenaline, million miles an hour pace at which he lives his life. i've had my doubts. he doesn't listen very well. he's belligerent and downright defiant. he has no respect for authority. mine, mw's, or otherwise. he'll be four in a month and he's never really attended nursery or primary. he just doesn't like it. it's boring. too slow. not enough action to captivate his runaway locomotive intellect. but he hit that soccer field and he was off. a new and fully engaged child. running faster than everyone else, outside the lines, onto the other fields. running to mw, out of breath, for quick splashes of hydration. then back out to the field. crazy aggressive, crazy coordinated. cw would kill for this kind of coordination. fifty minutes of total joy. begging to come back the next day. i don't think mw and i quit smiling that evening. bw ran around telling everyone, and no one in particular, how awesome soccer was. and ironically, or maybe not, he went to primary sunday. he sat with cw and the big kids. but it's start.