“Hurry up mom!” my son said as he ran out the back door. I grabbed my red cooler, filled with juice boxes and crackers, my coffee mug, my coat and wobbled out the door. Loading the car was always harder when my husband worked on weekends, which happened too often. However, I knew that if I needed help, my fellow soccer moms had me covered. “Why did you have to sign up for snacks today?” he whined as I got in the car, “I’ll get in trouble if I’m late!” I drove a little too fast, pressured by my young copilot. His hair was messy, but his socks and shin…