I hate playing catch up. I've had to do it a lot this summer (summer? THAT is a laugh - it seems like summer was a long weekend and that's it!)
I've neglected this blog - I think I offered the phrase to Julianne of "bloglect" which basically means failing to blog for seven or more days in a row. I've done that to the third power, I believe!
Anyway, to recap - Thing 2's All Star team swept Districts undefeated...then we hit the state tournament and fell short - REAL short - of our goal of being state champs for the third year in a row. We had a strong start but ended up third in state. Boo hissss...but the consolation prize to me was we would NOT be required to go to the World Series in Southaven, MS. Yeah!!!!
Or so I thought.
A parent meeting was held to discuss the World Series - our team earned an automatic bid because we were the defending state champs. I was the lone opposer who said we didn't need to take a 3rd place team all the way to Mississippi. Eighteen dirty looks, several scowls and some not so nice comments later, it was decided we would pack our bags and head to the World Series. It was a great trip which Thing 2 and I made by ourselves (hubby started a new job and Thing 1 had football practice with the varsity team -oooohhhh, ahhhh). There were 64 teams in our age group - we placed FOURTH! Unbelievable, I know. We even ended up facing our state's champion and runner-up and we beat both! It was an incredible six days in Southaven.
Thing 2 and I pulled into our driveway at 1 AM on Thursday morning after our last game Wednesday night, and I was immediately faced with last minute details for my high school class's 25th reunion scheduled for the weekend...which I planned and organized. It was a three-day event and it was loads of fun! My college roommate came in from Colorado, one classmate flew in from Japan...we drank, we danced, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely.
The very next week - both kids started school! Thing 1 is now a freshman in high school (eeek! That hurts to type) and Thing 2 is now in 3rd grade. Football is in full swing for Thing 1 - the high school jamboree is tonight in Chattanooga and he has to dress out with the varsity. He's very excited. Thing 2 is enjoying his time away from the baseball diamond (and so are we!) Work is busy, busy, busy....
And that's my stab at catch-up.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
SHOTGUN!
Thing 1 and Thing 2 are driving me crazy these days with their silly little game of "shotgun." No matter where we're headed, no matter what time of day, as soon as we lock the back door and make our way toward the SUV, one of them screams "shotgun" then breaks into a full-throttle run for the passenger side door.
This drives me bonkers because no matter who wins the coveted place in the front, the other is pissed off to the max and protests - loudly.
What's the big deal, anway, and why did this male testosterone-driven competition suddenly begin? Thing 2's place has always been in the backseat but these days, he feels compelled to fight for the front seat spot. I'm very confused by this. And I'm very puzzled by the level of emotion associated with this little game. The boy who loses out usually punches the winner or hurls verbal assaults then begrudgingly crawls into the back seat and pouts. And the one that lands in the front seat insists upon doing a little victory dance and squealing with delight. I just don't get it.
It's gotten so out of hand, I've had to set rules for this little competition: 1. If you must scream "shotgun," do it quietly. 2. If you are the winner, you must not gloat over or taunt the loser. 3. If you are the loser, shut up and ride - not one peep out of the kid in the backseat, not one protest, a single punch or a glimmer of pouting. If any of these rules are broken, both boys are forced to ride in the backseat...together.
They have both been ousted to the backseat several times recently for not following the rules. And what has happened on those occasions confuses me even more. They both cross their arms and sulk, throwing glares and dirty looks at me in my rearview mirror. Then, Thing 1 almost always says, "Just wait 'til I get my own truck. Then we can BOTH ride in the front seat every day." Then the little one says, "Yeah!"
Whose game was this anyway?
This drives me bonkers because no matter who wins the coveted place in the front, the other is pissed off to the max and protests - loudly.
What's the big deal, anway, and why did this male testosterone-driven competition suddenly begin? Thing 2's place has always been in the backseat but these days, he feels compelled to fight for the front seat spot. I'm very confused by this. And I'm very puzzled by the level of emotion associated with this little game. The boy who loses out usually punches the winner or hurls verbal assaults then begrudgingly crawls into the back seat and pouts. And the one that lands in the front seat insists upon doing a little victory dance and squealing with delight. I just don't get it.
It's gotten so out of hand, I've had to set rules for this little competition: 1. If you must scream "shotgun," do it quietly. 2. If you are the winner, you must not gloat over or taunt the loser. 3. If you are the loser, shut up and ride - not one peep out of the kid in the backseat, not one protest, a single punch or a glimmer of pouting. If any of these rules are broken, both boys are forced to ride in the backseat...together.
They have both been ousted to the backseat several times recently for not following the rules. And what has happened on those occasions confuses me even more. They both cross their arms and sulk, throwing glares and dirty looks at me in my rearview mirror. Then, Thing 1 almost always says, "Just wait 'til I get my own truck. Then we can BOTH ride in the front seat every day." Then the little one says, "Yeah!"
Whose game was this anyway?
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Take Me Out To The Ballgame...
With regular league play far behind us, our family has officially embarked on ALL STAR BASEBALL SEASON, better known as "Our Life" for 2.5 months each summer (or at least for the last three summers).
Our league has eight teams of boys in the 7-8 age group with 12 or 13 players on each team. My husband was a head coach for the first time this year and steered the 12 boys on his Cardinals team to an astounding three victories and 11 losses (I know, shock and awe). At the end of regular season play, my husband and the seven other head coaches convened in a dimly light pressbox with pizza (and probably cold adult beverages) and, through a very scientific method (NOT), chose the 10 best players from the pool of 100+ boys. These 10, my friends, were deemed the 2008 8-Year-Old Dayton All Star Team. Once the head coach was named (this is the coach who had the best record this year - NOT my husband, mind you), he was allowed to name two additional players to the team (affectionately known as the "alternates"). This team of 12 swept the Dizzy Dean District Championship (for the third year in a row), and will compete in the Dizzy Dean State Championship beginning this Friday at 6 PM in Harrison (keep your fingers crossed!!!)
In preparation for All Star Season 2008, my little one (okay, actually my husband wanted it more than Thing 2 but we'll tell the story the way he'd like it told). Anyway, my little one "needed" a new bat - a 2008 Worth Prodigy Lithium bat, 20 oz. in weight, 30 inches in length, with a barrel exactly 2.75" in diameter. I know all this because retail stores and online vendors discontinued it because it was a 2008 model...and the 2009s are now on the shelves. So I had to turn to ebay for assistance. And through a two-day bidding war with eight other people, I won my Prodigy bat for a grand total of $147.50. Yikes. And when it arrived via FedEx (with its one-year warranty attached), Thing 2 opened the box, pulled the bat from within, and held it - mesmerized. He looked up (I swear with tears in his eyes) and said, "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I mean it."
It was a wonderful moment for me.
So we'll pack the sunblock, the family cooler, and the bat and head to the state tournament this weekend. There will be some stellar plays, some heart-breaking "at bats," and some nail-biting innings, I'm sure, and I'll report back on all of the above - complete with photos - as soon as possible. In the meantime, here's one from our USSSA 4th of July Blow-out in Knoxville this past weekend...with our FIRST PLACE TROPHIES!!!
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Sex and the City...the review...
The much anticipated event finally happened Friday night - "Sex and the City" was released to theaters and me and some gal pals had a girls night out to enjoy catching up with the fab four from NYC. The night (and the movie) did NOT disappoint.
For the night out, this was the cast: me, my best pal at work Kell (same age as me but no kids to drive her freakin' crazy), our receptionist Sis (who is 57), a partner's assistant Sylvee (who is 50 something), and my pal from Dayton Kay (an on-the-cusp-0f-50 librarian whom I love deeeeearly). Anyway, we all met at Bluewater for cocktails with some of the "kids" from work (my term of endearment for the young male accountants of the 24 to 26 age range with whom I work). We were positioned directly across from the Bijou 7 where we were planning to see the movie. The people watching was prime - there were limos dropping off scores of well-dressed gals on their own girls night out. We pointed out our favorite pocketbooks or shoes, and we also pointed out a major fashion faux pas or two as we sipped our yummy cosmos.
Five minutes before showtime, we sashayed across the street just like Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte would (plus one) and took our seat in a VERY crowded theater (it was actually sold out but we had purchased tickets weeks before). There were two men in the crowd - I'm not kidding. It was wall to wall estrogen and the moment the movie started, a huge cheer rattled the room. Next to seeing Gloria Steinem earlier this year, attending this movie was one of the most empowering things I've done in a long time.
Despite lukewarm reviews, I loved the movie. I love the friendship that binds these characters together. I was moved to tears when Samanatha spoonfed Carrie yogurt as she nursed her broken heart. Girls...that's a true friend.
We women have a unique ability (and opportunity) to uphold our sisters, care for them, love them, help them, push them, pull them...we all should be able to understand and celebrate one another's struggle to be caregivers without losing ourselves, to love without compromising ourselves, to be unique without alienating ourselves.
On the surface, it was an enjoyable evening out, which I NEVER do for myself. But deeper than that, it gave me a rejuvenated feeling of self...I'm not Carrie, nor am I Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda. I don't live in a huge city and I don't spend hundreds of dollars on shoes. But I am a good-looking, 40-something, somewhat trendy gal with a good job, a healthy and fine family, and friends I can lean on (and sip cosmos with on a hot summer night). I'm pretty lucky. I'll never star in a movie, nor will one ever be made about me...but I felt like a star coming out of that show the other night - the star of my own life which is pretty awesome.
So if you're on the fence about going to see it - do yourself a favor but do yourself another favor and take a good friend (or three) with you.
For the night out, this was the cast: me, my best pal at work Kell (same age as me but no kids to drive her freakin' crazy), our receptionist Sis (who is 57), a partner's assistant Sylvee (who is 50 something), and my pal from Dayton Kay (an on-the-cusp-0f-50 librarian whom I love deeeeearly). Anyway, we all met at Bluewater for cocktails with some of the "kids" from work (my term of endearment for the young male accountants of the 24 to 26 age range with whom I work). We were positioned directly across from the Bijou 7 where we were planning to see the movie. The people watching was prime - there were limos dropping off scores of well-dressed gals on their own girls night out. We pointed out our favorite pocketbooks or shoes, and we also pointed out a major fashion faux pas or two as we sipped our yummy cosmos.
Five minutes before showtime, we sashayed across the street just like Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte would (plus one) and took our seat in a VERY crowded theater (it was actually sold out but we had purchased tickets weeks before). There were two men in the crowd - I'm not kidding. It was wall to wall estrogen and the moment the movie started, a huge cheer rattled the room. Next to seeing Gloria Steinem earlier this year, attending this movie was one of the most empowering things I've done in a long time.
Despite lukewarm reviews, I loved the movie. I love the friendship that binds these characters together. I was moved to tears when Samanatha spoonfed Carrie yogurt as she nursed her broken heart. Girls...that's a true friend.
We women have a unique ability (and opportunity) to uphold our sisters, care for them, love them, help them, push them, pull them...we all should be able to understand and celebrate one another's struggle to be caregivers without losing ourselves, to love without compromising ourselves, to be unique without alienating ourselves.
On the surface, it was an enjoyable evening out, which I NEVER do for myself. But deeper than that, it gave me a rejuvenated feeling of self...I'm not Carrie, nor am I Samantha, Charlotte, Miranda. I don't live in a huge city and I don't spend hundreds of dollars on shoes. But I am a good-looking, 40-something, somewhat trendy gal with a good job, a healthy and fine family, and friends I can lean on (and sip cosmos with on a hot summer night). I'm pretty lucky. I'll never star in a movie, nor will one ever be made about me...but I felt like a star coming out of that show the other night - the star of my own life which is pretty awesome.
So if you're on the fence about going to see it - do yourself a favor but do yourself another favor and take a good friend (or three) with you.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Sex and the City...Another Addiction
I've been a closet Sex and the City fan for years...no matter what time of night the re-runs show up, I'm glued to the set. I love all four girls - they each represent a little part of the whole me. Of course, I identify with Carrie the most but there's some Miranda, Charlotte and a whole lotta Samantha hiding out in this 42-year-old body.
To me, Sex and the City is like porn for females...we can't wait to visually devour what dress Carrie's got on, what shoes she buys, how hot Samantha looks in undies, and what will make Charlotte wrinkle that perky little nose next. So it's been a long four years for me since the series ended but thank goodness for TBS and re-runs!
Now...tonight is the BIG night. For weeks, some pals and I have had tickets to see the movie at the Bijou 7 downtown. In fact, in 10 minutes we're leaving to meet other friends at the Bluewater Grille for cosmos...then heading to the show. I can't WAIT to see the girls on the big screen. I've missed my "friends" so I'm giddy with excitement. Girls night out...with four girls I really need to catch up with.
I'll post a review sometime this weekend...
To me, Sex and the City is like porn for females...we can't wait to visually devour what dress Carrie's got on, what shoes she buys, how hot Samantha looks in undies, and what will make Charlotte wrinkle that perky little nose next. So it's been a long four years for me since the series ended but thank goodness for TBS and re-runs!
Now...tonight is the BIG night. For weeks, some pals and I have had tickets to see the movie at the Bijou 7 downtown. In fact, in 10 minutes we're leaving to meet other friends at the Bluewater Grille for cosmos...then heading to the show. I can't WAIT to see the girls on the big screen. I've missed my "friends" so I'm giddy with excitement. Girls night out...with four girls I really need to catch up with.
I'll post a review sometime this weekend...
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The big day approaches
Right smack dab in the middle of a very busy spring with baseball season winding down, several big marketing projects at work, and our town's annual Strawberry Festival (including guests from out of town) comes Thing 1's graduation from junior high. Oh, woe is me! I'm so heart-broken over this milestone that I'm not sure I'll survive the next 29.5 hours. Honestly, I've had it marked on the calendar for awhile but it snuck up behind me and pounced this week with stealth and ease. I can do nothing about it but surrender to it. No amount of pouting, toe tapping, arm crossing or bottom lip quivering will make it go away.
He and one of his pals came home from school yesterday with their caps and gowns and acted silly trying on the mortar boards and mugging in the mirror. It was a nice few moments for me but my heart felt tugged on at the same time. Awhile later, I went to Thing 1's room to check on them and there they were, hanging out watching "Dumb and Dumber" - Thing 1 sitting at his desk and his pal stretched across his bed, two young men about to embark on a huge adventure eating snack food and laughing over one of the most ignorant movies ever made. And it brought tears to my eyes.
He learned today during graduation practice that he earned the President's Award for Educational Excellence based on his GPA and his national test scores. And the principal asked him to lead the audience in the pledge tomorrow night as well as give other instructions during the graduation ceremony. Then I received very sweet emails from one of his coaches and one of his teachers, both saying how much they would miss him and what a joy he has been to them. Can my heart take anymore, I wonder?
I hope these shining moments make an impact on him - I hope they make him yearn for more shining moments and motivate him to do his very best. I hope they fan a fire inside of him so he has the drive to excel in school and sports without the imprints of my hands on his back.
And I hope I can get through tomorrow night without too many tears. I won't set the bar too high - I won't hope for a dry graduation ceremony. I know the waterworks will come. But they will be tears of sadness and joy intertwined...sadness that my little boy really no longer IS a little boy, but joy that my life has been blessed with such a spectacular young man as he is.
He and one of his pals came home from school yesterday with their caps and gowns and acted silly trying on the mortar boards and mugging in the mirror. It was a nice few moments for me but my heart felt tugged on at the same time. Awhile later, I went to Thing 1's room to check on them and there they were, hanging out watching "Dumb and Dumber" - Thing 1 sitting at his desk and his pal stretched across his bed, two young men about to embark on a huge adventure eating snack food and laughing over one of the most ignorant movies ever made. And it brought tears to my eyes.
He learned today during graduation practice that he earned the President's Award for Educational Excellence based on his GPA and his national test scores. And the principal asked him to lead the audience in the pledge tomorrow night as well as give other instructions during the graduation ceremony. Then I received very sweet emails from one of his coaches and one of his teachers, both saying how much they would miss him and what a joy he has been to them. Can my heart take anymore, I wonder?
I hope these shining moments make an impact on him - I hope they make him yearn for more shining moments and motivate him to do his very best. I hope they fan a fire inside of him so he has the drive to excel in school and sports without the imprints of my hands on his back.
And I hope I can get through tomorrow night without too many tears. I won't set the bar too high - I won't hope for a dry graduation ceremony. I know the waterworks will come. But they will be tears of sadness and joy intertwined...sadness that my little boy really no longer IS a little boy, but joy that my life has been blessed with such a spectacular young man as he is.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Stress Leads to Skinny
These past few months have been stressful for me...
Tax season just about kicked my arse this year for several reasons - namely because at the same time I was busy putting in 55 to 60 hour weeks, I was also juggling Thing 1's AAU basketball participation and Thing 2's baseball team being coached by the man I sleep with most nights (I say "most" because I kick him out of my big California King a night or two a week so I can cuddle with Thing 2!). Long story short, it was a tough tax season.
Now...I'm facing, all within the next two weeks, Thing 1's graduation from 8th grade (officially making me a MOM of a HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT) and Thing 2's All Star draft. I'm not sure which has me the most fitful.
Thing 2 has been a member of our league's All Star team for two years running. But you know, as much as I'd like to say the selection is based on skill, I also know there are politics that come into play. And that makes me nervous. Mostly because I'm not very good at politics. If I think something, I usually say it. If you piss me off, you know it. I'm not a "yes" man...eh hem...woman, I mean. I have opinions and I share them, when asked to. So, I probably get a D+ in politics that, when averaged with Thing 2's A- in skill doesn't add up to a very good grade. We will know for certain if he will be part of the two-time Dizzy Dean District Champs and two-time Dizzy Dean State Champs All Star Team again this year around May 24th and I'll share that info when it's made public. In the meantime, keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer that I can keep my mouth shut.
Thing 1's graduation is May 15th at 7 PM. I will be in tears beginning around 4:15 PM that afternoon so keep me in your thoughts. The other day, my pal, Cowgirl and I were chatting about recent stressful events in our lives - hers being the discovery of a snake in her office and mine, paling in comparison, being Thing 1's graduation. I told her, "I can't believe that he hasn't even shown the least amount of remorse for leaving behind his younger friends and his school! He doesn't seem the least bit sad over that." She gently reminded me that he was NOT sad about it - that all he was concentrating on now was The Big Adventure that awaits him - high school. And, as she usually is, she was right on the money. I felt the same way during my 8th grade graduation. Sure, I knew I'd miss the teachers who were special to me. But I couldn't WAIT to hit the halls of RCHS. I guess he feels the same way.
Anyway, my worries have shown up on the scales...I've dropped about 10 pounds this spring and my clothes are baggy. Not complaining, mind you, just curious at the loss of appetite. Nothing sounds good, nothing beckons me from the pantry or refrigerator...chocolate has lost all appeal. Not even Hiroshis, Formosa or P.F. Chang's look tempting.
This could be a very long summer, indeed.
Tax season just about kicked my arse this year for several reasons - namely because at the same time I was busy putting in 55 to 60 hour weeks, I was also juggling Thing 1's AAU basketball participation and Thing 2's baseball team being coached by the man I sleep with most nights (I say "most" because I kick him out of my big California King a night or two a week so I can cuddle with Thing 2!). Long story short, it was a tough tax season.
Now...I'm facing, all within the next two weeks, Thing 1's graduation from 8th grade (officially making me a MOM of a HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT) and Thing 2's All Star draft. I'm not sure which has me the most fitful.
Thing 2 has been a member of our league's All Star team for two years running. But you know, as much as I'd like to say the selection is based on skill, I also know there are politics that come into play. And that makes me nervous. Mostly because I'm not very good at politics. If I think something, I usually say it. If you piss me off, you know it. I'm not a "yes" man...eh hem...woman, I mean. I have opinions and I share them, when asked to. So, I probably get a D+ in politics that, when averaged with Thing 2's A- in skill doesn't add up to a very good grade. We will know for certain if he will be part of the two-time Dizzy Dean District Champs and two-time Dizzy Dean State Champs All Star Team again this year around May 24th and I'll share that info when it's made public. In the meantime, keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer that I can keep my mouth shut.
Thing 1's graduation is May 15th at 7 PM. I will be in tears beginning around 4:15 PM that afternoon so keep me in your thoughts. The other day, my pal, Cowgirl and I were chatting about recent stressful events in our lives - hers being the discovery of a snake in her office and mine, paling in comparison, being Thing 1's graduation. I told her, "I can't believe that he hasn't even shown the least amount of remorse for leaving behind his younger friends and his school! He doesn't seem the least bit sad over that." She gently reminded me that he was NOT sad about it - that all he was concentrating on now was The Big Adventure that awaits him - high school. And, as she usually is, she was right on the money. I felt the same way during my 8th grade graduation. Sure, I knew I'd miss the teachers who were special to me. But I couldn't WAIT to hit the halls of RCHS. I guess he feels the same way.
Anyway, my worries have shown up on the scales...I've dropped about 10 pounds this spring and my clothes are baggy. Not complaining, mind you, just curious at the loss of appetite. Nothing sounds good, nothing beckons me from the pantry or refrigerator...chocolate has lost all appeal. Not even Hiroshis, Formosa or P.F. Chang's look tempting.
This could be a very long summer, indeed.
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