Max is going through another bout of arguing with us a lot. It’s frustrating: he’s just like me, so I engage him and argue back. I’m finding it difficult to stay calm and get the upper hand. I’m trying to just not do it.

It might be as little as “You put your toy upstairs.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Go check.”

“I didn’t!!”

It goes ’round and ’round like this. Grr. It’s like he’s a teenager already.

And he’s starting to get angry more often. He’s never really done that. Sad and frustrated, yes, and we know he’s a sensitive child. But he stomped up the stairs growling like a 16 year old, and The Hub and I just looked at each other and said, “What was that?”

I feel like we’re moving into uncharted territory, and as parents of a singleton, we don’t know what’s normal. We worry he suppresses his feelings too much (like when a kid was punching him in the stomach every day and he didn’t mention it for a week) and that that will come out in a bad way later.

I’m looking into books that can give us tips for how to navigate this rocky part of our lives. Any advice?

Like everything over-cliched term, soccer mom leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Now that Max is playing soccer, I’m skirting dangerously close to the word.

My definition: A soccer mom is one who enthusiastically attends every one of her child’s soccer games and practices, arriving early with snacks and water for the team in her mini van. She may wear “mom pants” and push her child to play to kill win.

I’m sooooooooo not competitive. I hated sports growing up (and still don’t like many). So watching Max play soccer was like having my fingernails pulled off. At first.

Then the Hub got suckered into being the coach. After 2 weeks and 2 coaches not showing up, he was stepping in anyway (he played in high school). He really doesn’t mind and it’s damn cute to see these little 6 year olds listening to him.

And I find myself cheering on the kids (who have yet to win a game, but who’s counting? Last week, we borrowed a player from the other team, who scored the only goals we got) and encouraging them to “turn the ball around! take it, it’s yours!”

So, by default, being the wife of the coach…doesn’t that make me a soccer mom? Oh damn. But if it means I can wear cute shirts like the soccer chick shirt (above) that I bought, at least i don’t have to wear them with mom pants!

My yoga instructor talked about guilt the other day. Interestingly, she attributed it to the Western world. I don’t know if they don’t have guilt in other countries, but she was right; we put ourselves through a lot of guilt for no reason.

I thought it would be fun to share our Guilt Lists and then (virtually) tear them up. Here’s mine.

• Guilt about not writing enough on all my blogs
• Guilt about not going to yoga as often as I like
• Guilt about gaining a few pounds
• Guilt about being impatient with Max
• Guilt about drinking too much
• Guilt about not being the kind of parent who volunteers at school
• Guilt about not dusting
• Guilt about not scrubbing the tub
• Guilt about not taking Max to play outside often enough

Looking at this list I see that none of it is earth-shattering. I think we as women experience more guilt than men. What do you think? And for what? It’s just another stressor in our lives.

So here and now I’m making a proclamation that we will deliberately work harder to NOT feel so guilty. The dishes can wait. We won’t blow up if we don’t exercise all week (or month). That hamburger will not go straight to our thighs.

Life is meant to be enjoyed. Let’s start doing that.