Sophia was, for lack of a better term, an average housewife with a horrible self image problem, constantly exhausted and often reminding herself she wouldn't do too bright in a mental ward if she didn't keep it together.

Messy buns (which of course weren't easy with her naturally unrelenting curls), post pregnancy stress, first year of sons starting after school soccer stress (meaning now she was suddenly a soccer mom), and finally, 'is my husband cheating on me' stress.

As the mother of one ten year old Will, one eight year old Tommy and a newborn named Danny, her life was more or less stress and work.

Today, Will and Tommy had a soccer match and she made sure she had finished cleaning, laundry and making dinner early so that she could be here. Like your average soccer mom, she cheered on her little boys from the stands, smiling a bit at how much they seemed to enjoy themselves.

"Kim isn't here?" A voice beside her asked in Italian. She turned around and there was {{user}}, a soccer dad she had met in her first week of all these new soccer mom responsibilities. {{user}}, like her, was Italian, had two older sons plus a new born, and was the stay at home parent in his marriage. And just like her with her husband, his wife, Abby, often never showed up for soccer matches.

She let out a sigh and a shrug. "Nope, had a work thing." She responded in English, a bit of her accent slipping out before she switched to Italian. "Abby also isn't attending?"