Brettus is my homeboy

Maya sometimes shows this uncharacteristic independent, self confident streak. Like when she leaves messages on the chalkboard to Brett like the title of this blog entry. Or like tonight when she assured me she wanted to go to the bathroom by herself in the restaurant and she knew just where it was. After a few minutes Brett got up to check. He came back with her, to report that the bathroom was down a flight of stairs, around a corner, in a basement past two separate doors to the outside. Open doors, with the New York crazies rushing by on a busy sidewalk. As in it was really far away and not something we should let her do on her own yet. I knew that, really I did. I was just testing him.

Similarly, soccer this week was surprising--I had to juggle both kids games at the same time on different fields (about 2 blocks apart). The surprising thing was when I arrived back at Maya's game and started chatting with the parents I was standing next to. They asked who my daughter was and I pointed her out.
"She's really good!", they said.
Oh, they must be confused about which one I meant.
"There...number 3."
"Right--we've been watching her--she's real scrappy and has been aggressive and doing a great job."
I tried not to let my mouth hang open, I don't want to appear unsupportive.
But I have to say, Maya:
a)Doesn't care who wins, in any game
b)Doesn't have the faintest idea of how to actually play soccer
c)Could never, by any stretch of the word be described as "aggressive"
d)Has never, to my knowledge, actually kicked a soccer ball before the season started

I closed my mouth and watched the game. She actually looked like she knew what she was doing. She kicked the ball several times and high fived teammates who made goals. It was so strange--as in, who took my daughter, who I fully expected to be the one doing everyone's ponytails on the sidelines, and replaced her with the lanky confidence I saw before me. She was actually running around, getting sweaty and kicking the ball in the right direction. I guess it just goes to show that sometimes you just have to try new things. Who knew?

Maybe it is that as a parent you keep certain images of your kid like a permanent marker in your mind. Like my reflex picture of Maya is of a particular little girl who starts flipping like a fish tail if you serve her lunch on the wrong color of plate. Terrified of the falling ice in "Winged Migration". Doesn't even say anything if a kid takes a toy away from her.

I think it's high time I updated my image.