The Rockwood Files: Plight of the Sneezy Soccer Mom -

By Gwen Rockwood, newspaper columnist and mama of 3

When 6-year-old Jack told me he wanted to sign up for soccer this fall, I knew there’d be trouble. Not for Jack, though. He’s one of those kids who gets along with almost everyone and is never happier than when he’s outside surrounded by lots of activity. The trouble was all mine.

It’s fall, you know, which means my powerful pollen nemesis – Ruthless Ragweed – is stalking me again. (Perhaps he has attacked a few of you, too. You have my sympathies.) Most of the time I stay indoors and off his turf, which isn’t easy because I’ve waited all summer for the hot temperatures to mellow out. Now that they have, I’m faced with a fall dilemma: Enjoy the outdoors and spend the rest of the night itching and sneezing, or hide inside and wait for a pollen-killing frost.

When Jack started soccer last month, I knew that decision had been made for me. Soccer teams don’t practice in living rooms.

Most of the time, my husband Tom takes Jack to his twice-weekly soccer practice. But last week, he was out of town so I took over as the extra-curricular taxi service. Jack was excited that I was coming to see him practice, so I swallowed my second allergy pill of the day, crossed my fingers and threw a lawn chair in the back of the minivan. When we got there, I found a shady spot to watch the practice and let the other two kids play on a nearby playground. I snapped photos of Jack in action and tried not to notice how the wind was whipping all those invisible pollen particles around. Perhaps that second allergy pill would protect me.

Back at home a couple hours later, it was clear that all the Zyrtec in the world was no match for a field full of ragweed in 20 mile-per-hour winds. My eyes started to burn, and I lost count of the sneezes once I passed 10. I tried showering, nasal spray and even the dreaded nasal rinse. For those of you who are fortunate enough not to know, a “nasal rinse” is a lot like squirting a small ocean of saltwater up one side of your nose and letting it drain out the other side. It wasn’t pretty, but I was desperate and it helps.

After I’d put the kids to bed, I fell asleep that night next to a small mound of crumpled Kleenex, a bottle of Visine and a jar of Vicks Vaporub. The score was “Ragweed 1; Mom 0.”

Three days later, it was time for the second soccer game of the season. I helped Jack suit up in his jersey, soccer cleats and shin guards. I suited up as well – with a back-up allergy pill in one pocket and nasal spray in the other. I brought a full box of Kleenex with me, too, just in case the game wasn’t the only thing running full force.

It was a beautiful fall day with temperatures in the low seventies and sunshine to spare. All the parents crowded the sidelines to cheer our boys up and down the field. Late into the third quarter, Jack saw some real action. He darted through an opening in a throng of players and kicked the ball. Chasing it down the field, he kept on kicking it closer to the goal while Tom and I nearly went crazy on the sidelines yelling “Go Jack! Keep going! Kick it!” Then, about seven feet from the goalie, he kicked it hard. And somehow, miraculously, it rolled right through the open legs of the goalie and into the net. GOAL! Jack turned to look at us, and I’m not sure who was more surprised by the sudden score – us or him. We jumped up and down, and Jack pumped his fist in the air, smiling bigger than big.

“Take that, Ragweed!” I thought to myself, as I snuffled into my tissue. I’d have sneezed all day long if it meant a chance to see that look on Jack’s face.

I spent the rest of the game sniffing and wiping and dabbing at my watery eyes, and the other parents may have assumed I was weeping with joy over our son’s goal. In reality, I was just playing my own match-up with Ruthless Ragweed and getting my butt kicked all over the field.