Saturday morning in our house does not yet mean getting up with the sparrows to stand around a cold (and usually wet) sports field cheering on a team.
The boys are still young and there is no mini-midgets rugby readily available - that is what you do in NZ when you have boys and a rugby-mad husband.
However, we go to dancing. This is what you do when your mother was a music teacher and wants you to be confident performing (this is what she tells herself)
Far be it for anyone to accuse me of not encouraging the boys to embrace their inner Broadway star! They both have singing and dancing lessons, and Dom does Tap on Saturday mornings as an extra.
He's the only boy in both the tap and song/dance classes, and at the moment he doesn't care, so until he does, I'm going with it. He often gets to be the centrepiece (read STAR!) of the dance they do because of the 'only boy' factor. This fact does not escape him!
There are a couple of little boys in Charlie's group, and lots of little girlies in tutus! He is always first to put his hand up to sing into the microphone (just like his mummy!)
They can both sing beautifully in tune and have the confidence to stand up in front of friends and family to give an impromptu concert, so mission accomplished.
Even better is the fact that my darling husband is more than happy to take them and sit around with the other parents on a Saturday morn (the other parents being mostly Mums, a lot of whom constantly bang on about how well little Penelope is doing at school, so much more focused and talented than everyone else!)
He has his iPad, and his favourite coffee shop just down the road, and a bit of bonding time with the boys to alleviate the Golf Guilt that descends upon him most Sundays!