If This is My Life I'm in Big Trouble!

Being a mother to boys means inevitably I will be spending a lot of time sitting on the sidelines, cheering my boys on as they participate in sports.  My mission in life it to make sure sports don't take over our lives.  I am determined that our busy schedule of getting to and from practices and attending games will not interfere with family dinner, homework, and most importantly my sanity.  Just when I was beginning to think I had things all together, it was incredibly obvious on Saturday afternoon that being a soccer mom is more than I'm cut out for. . .

"Get in the car!" I yelled to my boys as I frantically gathered our camping chairs, the diaper bag, and car keys.  The boys grumbled and whined and I didn't blame them.  We'd already spent almost three hours sitting on the sidelines of Bean's t-ball game and waiting for him to get his team pictures taken.  Now we were off to Marcus' soccer game.
The field was a muddy swamp so I sat in my chair with Landon on my lap, feeding him Tootsie Rolls to keep him happy while Bean played around with the other kids.  Randy was in Texas so I was on my own and feeling like things were in pretty good control.
Just as the game ended Bean needed to go to the bathroom.  I pointed out the nearest restrooms and sent him on his way as Marcus took off to the playground with his teammates.  As soon as I put Landon down so I could gather our things, he began to scream.  He had kicked off his shoe and was standing in wet, gooey mud.  There was no point putting his shoe back on so I just let him cry when Bean came running back.  He had never made it to the bathroom and was going to have an accident any second.
"Just go in the bushes by the fence!"  I shouted over the noise of Landon's hysterics.  Meanwhile I tried to fold up the camping chairs and shove them in their bags.  The chairs were not cooperating, Landon was screaming and getting his sticky hands all over me when I heard Bean yelling for help.  He was standing by the fence looking confused.  I knew I had seconds before he wet himself.
"Just pee right there!"  I shouted.  By this time the entire field had cleared and we were alone so I didn't care what he did as long as he didn't have an accident.
"Are you sure, Mom?  Right here?  But everyone will see me?"  Bean whined.
"Ethan, just pee right there.  Right there!  In the grass!"  I roared as I tried to shove the second chair into the bag while sticky, muddy Landon still screamed and clung to my leg.
Finally Bean did as I asked and relieved himself for what seemed like five minutes.  At this point I realized one of the dads had witnessed my breakdown and started to run across the field to rescue me.  Yep, he'd seen the whole thing:  Landon screaming in the mud without a shoe, Ethan standing in the middle of the field with pants down around his ankles like some bum on the street, and me yelling like my head was going to explode.

I felt awesome.
This whole soccer mom thing is not for me.
I'm expecting a call from social services any day now.