When Bean’s soccer coach started barking orders for the toddlers to line up against the wall, getting ready to run some suicides, I knew that we had somehow sidestepped any expectation I had of a toddler soccer class.

Bean is obsessed with soccer. Maybe all sports but definitely soccer. She tries to wheedle her way into any game being played, even if it’s a bunch of college guys. She stares at the impromptu soccer games at Mission Playground with mouth agape. OH WOW OH WOW.

So, obviously, I thought toddler soccer would be fun. Or, “toddler” “soccer.” I had zilcho expectations beyond her running around like a tiny lunatic.

And then Coach Johnson entered our lives. From the start, she insisted on stretches, wall to wall drills, passing drills, and shooting drills.

I initially thought, there is just no way. Do they expect any of these kids to do any of this stuff? One toddler picked up a cone, placed it on her head, and did some pirouettes. Did they get the class mixed up? This was toddler soccer.

It was a whirlwind of chaos. Bean loved it but the gym room was a series of children tripping over feet, tantrums, and happy toddlers ignoring any and all commands. The shooting drill devolved into kids grabbing the balls and running in circles.

But, Coach Johnson did teach them “soccer stance” (standing with one foot on the ball). Bean started obsessively practicing soccer stance, even when we weren’t in class. When they introduced dribbling the following week, I again thought, “this is waaaay too advanced. Dribbling? I can’t even dribble.” And there Bean was, concentrating on moving the ball between her feet just like Coach Johnson. Older kids were totally rocking it.

At our last class, Coach Johnson blew the whistle and told the kids to line up. The toddlers now line up without the parents even needing to guide them. Bean, with palms pressed up against the gym wall, shot me a huge, proud smile. They ran through their drills, and all of the kids kept up and knew what to do, between gasps of guffaws.

In the last 10 minutes of class, Coach Johnson said we’d be doing a scrimmage. Ha ha haha, what? She threw 3 balls into the gym floor and asked us to keep close to our kids and remind them to pass and shoot, we would all be on the same team.

They were serious.

The game started out expectedly enough. Toddlers tend to think ownership is binary — either I have the ball or you have the ball. A few eager kids raced to get the ball, and they nailed it down. Bean took a look around and shrugged at me like, “I guess the balls are all taken.”

But, over the course of minutes, with constant reminders, the toddlers started to understand that they could kick the ball to another kid, and that kid would kick the ball, maybe they would get the ball back and kick it, and someone else might shoot it into the goal.

It was remarkable. The coaches had just taught these toddlers how to share and be part of a team, in 5 minutes. And everyone was shrieking with delight and laughing and scoring goals and clapping for each other.

I’m truly astounded by what Coach Johnson has managed to do in a few classes, and she managed it because she never talked down to them or dumbed things down. She treated them like real soccer players, and taught them how to do real soccer moves. And they’ve absorbed all of it, all while having a fantastically fun time.

This is a lesson I should probably bring home with me. Too often, it is easier to treat Bean like a baby, and do everything for her. But she is a powerful little girl. It’s time to start treating her like one.