Well, I think we can cross that one off the list.

Today was the last day of soccer camp for Max and they ended the morning with a little scrimmage. As I walked up to catch the last bit of the game, it seemed like everyone was having lots of fun. Then I heard the yelling. Of course it was Max. He kept shouting, "STOP IT, GUYS! I'M SO TIRED OF THIS!!!" Then he stomped off the field and landed in a squat with his back to the rest of the kids.

One of the coaches came over to talk to him and after a few minutes Max joined the game again. But he quickly started yelling at the other kids again... and storming off... even messing with the goal at one point (as in - I'm going to pick this up and twirl it above my head - because I can - because I'm done with this mess).

From what I could gather, there wasn't much sharing of the ball. Some of the kids on his team were much more advanced than he is so he was never getting a chance to kick. It's sort of how soccer goes before kids learn strategy and how to pass. It did seem like a pretty frustrating situation... constantly getting shoved out of the way by the cluster of kids fighting for the ball up and down the field.

Still, it was tough to watch. All of the other kids seemed to be handling the scene just fine... and definitely without tantrums.

The unraveling continued for another five years five minutes until the game was ended. Time was up. Soccer camp was officially over.

I HAD TO CLAIM HIM.

Fortunately, I always carry my Judgmental-Parent-Stare Shield with me.

After thanking the coaches profusely we got in the car and drove home. We talked a bit about what happened and then I asked him if he still wanted to play soccer this Fall...

"No, Mom. I really don't want to do that now."