The question hit me hard, like a soccer ball to the head. How did we get here? On this particular day I was standing on the sidelines beside all the other soccer boosters from my young daughter's team. We were a mix of parents, grandparents, siblings and dogs. We spent most weekends together now, driving hours to games and tournaments. We were good sports ourselves, having given up things like family getaways, visits with Aunt Jane, and birthday parties. You see, the coaches in this league demanded complete commitment. Try-outs for the team came every June. And no player's spot was guaranteed.
Apparently I have a situation. Actually, I have three situations. Four, if you count the dog. Situation. That's how my boss used to refer to my husband.
Here's how it went: I wrote a novel about a soccer mom. I am a mom whose daughters played soccer. Therefore the novel must be about me, right? I get asked this question many times a week. I have pretty much run out of interesting ways to say no.