My Name is Kim and I'm a . . . Soccer Mom.

Years ago, when I was a DINK, I completed a marketing survey. It asked a few generic questions about my husband's and my ages, genders, professions, and housing situation. After filling in the questions and running it through some kind of software, I sat back skeptically to see what, if anything, this survey could tell me. I was SHOCKED. It correctly stated the type of car I drove, the barbecue grill on my back deck, the brand of vacuum I used, and the clothing stores I frequented. I was not the unique, independent, impossible-to-categorize person I thought I was. Rather, I was totally predictable in my buying habits, by mere virtue of my vital statistics.

Fast forward many years to the moment in time when I first pulled into the parking lot of a soccer field, opened the back of my vehicle, and began pulling out a fold-up chair and my 4-year-old's ball. In a moment of perfect clarity, I realized that I was a bonafide soccer mom. Driving a minivan. With 2 children inside. And a dog at home in the backyard. Marketing executives would drool at the thought of my purchasing power.

My 4-year-old is now eleven, and still playing soccer. In fact, she's a starting defender on a competitive team headed for State. You may have heard horror stories about parents going ballistic at their child's sporting event. I've never witnessed a fist fight, but I have seen and heard my share of dads yelling and moms griping. While I've come to accept, sort of, the label of soccer mom, I chafe at the stereotype and really don't want to be defined by the small but vocal minority of parents who attempt to live out their own failed athletic dreams through their little girls. So, a couple years ago, I picked up my camera.

I may be a soccer mom, but I'd like to think that I'm a creative, generous soccer mom. And good-looking. We musn't forget slender. Where was I? That's right. To resist getting sucked into the negative energy produced by a few loud-mouthed malcontents on the sidelines, I picked up my camera and started snapping action pictures of my daughter. Which led to inadvertently catching some cool shots of her teammates. Which led to publishing a team blog featuring my photography. Which led to creating individual posters for each of the players.

Which led to this long-winded post . . . which is all my way of explaining why I haven't been around lately. I'm busy pretending I'm a sports photographer instead of a soccer mom.

Dinner last night: rice, chili and cheese