Just Cause it was Cute!

I took my son and daughter to frozen yogurt yesterday after school...it was a minimum day -- reason enough to celebrate, but more so because the sun shone in all it's glory! A lovely, celebratory 70 degrees.

The place is called Tops Yogurt. It's Hayden's favorite. Which is funny cuz he gets plain vanilla yogurt, NOTHING to top it off with. Lindsay, on the other hand, makes a delectable creation. Raspberry yogurt, fresh raspberries, strawberries, bananas, whipped cream topped with almonds. Yah, that weighed in at about 4 lbs. Good thing I had a coupon! Anyway, we sat out in the sun and I enjoyed watching my kids nearly moan about how good that fro yo tasted.

Until Hayden started to moan about this: Clutching his forehead...

"Oh man...I have FREEZE BRAIN!"

Don't you just love 6 year olds!

The Soccer Crazies and Restored Faith in Humanity

My life is crazy. Mostly cuz of soccer. The other part is driving. For soccer. I've logged nearly 34,000 miles on my car is less than 2 years. I think I bought my car sometime in the summer. Some of that has been driving for vacation, but most of it...soccer.

And we do it cuz we love it. I'm not really complaining. I actually love the time in the car with my kids...some of our best conversations have happened on the way to or from a game. So it's worth the price. But there are some things you can't change.

I have a very lovely, responsible eldest child. Until yesterday. We had driven 90 minutes to and from and we were back a second day as we were returning to compete in the semi-finals. I allowed my daughter to sleep on the way down as we "sprung" (is that a word?) forward and lost an hour -- not to mention she gets up daily at 5:20 am. Sleep is evasive at best for her. Minutes before we were due to arrive, I awakened my sleeping beauty and told her to start putting her gear on.

As if wakening from a coma, looking at me with fear and almost immediate regret with those big eyes: "I think I forgot my cleats!"

Seriously. You're kidding, right? I mean, you couldn't expect me to maintain composure at this point, could you? Not proudly, I didn't. I mean...I am the self-sacrificing taxi cab driver, but I expect the passengers to be responsible!!!!!!!!!! Panic. I tell you! Panic! This is their last game play of the year for this team...it was the SEMI's! A big deal.

I pulled over and waved down the first person I could find. "Do you know where a Sports Authority is?" He gave me directions for the store that was only 2 minutes away. Mind you, its the weekend...these stores don't open til 10 or 11 am. It's 9:25 am. We're supposed to be to the field in 15 minutes.

We pull up to the empty parking lot. I hop out of the car with my daughter who is bravely standing next to me. I start knocking. I KNOW employees are there. I also KNOW they don't care that I'm knocking. Still, I keep knocking. I also make that praying sign with my hands pressed together. One girl even walked away from the knocking. But I perservered. Finally, a manager walked up, not looking very pleased, I might add, but she opened the door enough to hear my plea:

"I'm sorry to bother you. We just drove 2 hours (cuz it sounds more dramatic than 90 minutes) to play in a soccer game for my daughter and she forgot her cleats. Is there any POSSIBLE way we could come in and quickly buy a pair of cleats?"

And you know what? THEY DID!!!!!!!! Shocked and amazed, we both bolted for the back of the store and grabbed the first pair we could find in her size. They were only $30. I normally spend $90. I figured, if she gets blisters, she will have earned them. I thanked the check out gal profusely, even annoyingly, for their kindness.

We hopped in the car, and made it to the field at 9:42 am. Before about half of her teammates.

My friend walked up to me and said: "Lady, you are one crazy soccer mom." And you know what? I am. And while I was mad, we all make mistakes. And we all need to move on. And show our kids we love them no matter what. And we can find solutions.

We went on to the Final and lost in overtime. But at the end of the day, we think it was those cleats. I don't usually remember much about teams, scores, tournaments, or anything else. Like I said, it's really about spending time with my child and cheering them on. She learned a lesson that day and so did I. I'm touched and happy that people were understanding and kind and were willing to break the rules for a good cause. I asked the check-out girl, after she told us she played soccer for years and years, if her mother ever gave her a verbal tongue-lashing or two? She said "Oh yeah!" I think that put Mallory at ease.

You know...everything does always work out. Not always the way you pick or the way you planned...but it does. And she learned a lesson, too. But for sure, it's a weekend we'll both never forget. And those $30 cleats? Well, let's just say she'll be wearing those for a while.

How to Kill a Morning

So I'm waiting for the windshield repair people to show up. You know...between 9 and 11 am. But we've rounded the 10 am mark and I'm losing faith.

Nothing's worse than waiting. You feel like you can't start anything cuz they might ring your doorbell. Or maybe that's just me. Fortunately the phone rang. It's my sister. She's got that tone...

"Soooooooo....".

Ah...I can tell we're in for a nice long conversation about nothing. Nothing, I tell you! Nothing important anyway. My favorite conversations are about nothing. But we laugh. I mean, we laugh so much I usually cry. And my stomach feels more taut, like I've done at least 3 sit ups.

We even watched You Tube together. So maybe you don't have a sister that you can kill an hour with on the phone (by the way, this works well with my mother, also)...you can waste a few minutes enjoying a little Jerry Seinfeld on Letterman (the creep) anyway. I do love me a little Jerry Seinfeld...especially with my sister on the other end of the line.

Way to turn my day around!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqWLw0mOiV0&feature=channel

and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASFmLuGIr78&feature=fvsr

Not Funny

This is a soapbox comment:

Watching the news this morning. I live in the Central Valley in CA, and the newscasters report the following statistics.

Where I live: 13.9% unemployment this week.

Nearby surrounding areas: 18.9% unemployment.

As a business owner, does everyone now understand my depression?

GEEZ LOUISE! Rough way to start the day. They say it's getting better, but I have a feeling that's coming from an Obama marketing camp. It is NOT better! In December we were below 10%.

Thyroid problems...(see last post if you can handle it)...here I come!

OK -- not really -- but it's no wonder!

What Itches?

Ok, so I have to warn you, I may be discussing some topics in this post that might make some uncomfortable. (To be fair, there aren't a lot of topics of this nature that make me uncomfortable, either that or they make me so uncomfortable, I feel the need to make fun, so be forewarned. I should have been a doctor cuz I'm okay talking about the body...unfortunately, not quite focused enough).

Now that the disclaimer is over, one of my favorite parts of getting older are all the physical ailments that come right alone with it. They keep me rolling. I get phone calls starting out like...

"Have you ever had a..." or "Do you think I should call the doctor if..." and so on.

This gets me rolling because we all have funky stuff going on with our body. Most of it is normal at one time or another. I mean who hasn't been constipated? Or had the trots? Or hates regular visits from Aunt Flow and a case of the crankies. I mean c'mon. Get real.

But an itch? Specifically (and here comes the uncomfortable part) -- anus itch? That one had me on the floor. Certain the diagnosis was pinworm, or maybe even a disease from some 3rd world country, I was informed we would be having to put tape over our behind! REALLY? I never knew that. But it sounded funny. Does scotch tape stick that well on human skin? I'm still laughing at that thought of it. Or telling my child...you have pinworm...he comes mom with her roll of Scotch tape! Or not.

I've had three kids. I'm guessing that itch is probably better known as hemorroids. I hear creams work better than tape. Mine started with birth child #1. And if you've been lucky enough to escape them, don't turn in to a long-distance runner, either, or they may find you on that route, also. Anyhoo -- the internet has ruined us. We can WebMD ourselves all day long and diagnose ourselves into life-threatening illnesses. Heaven knows I've searched for endless reasons for my weight gain: definitely thyroid problems. Nope. Okay, hormonal imbalance. Well, since I was born, probably. So no. Excessive intake of food? NO WAY! That was not listed on WebMD.

It's true, getting old is no picnic. Bumps appear, knees start to hurt, and is that my arthritis kicking up with the cold weather and rain? Do I have arthritis? I better stay home today, for sure. Plus, I can sit by the phone to ring and wait for yet another hilarious phone call about some ailment I've yet to hear about, experience or perhaps, help some lost soul identify.

They say laughter is the best medicine!

Discomfort Inn

Oh man, do I have a crick in my neck. And I don't even know what that is! I just know I slept on a pillow that felt like a bag of cement.

Let me just say that I travel, on occassion, for soccer tournaments with my girls. It's fun in that I often get some one on one time with one of my kids. This weekend was with my eldest, someone who happens to be very low maintenance. Simply put: she's easy to please. She doesn't care where you eat, doesn't care what you do. She's pretty go-with-the-flow on things like this. After our 2nd game, I asked: "Wanna go to a movie?" "I don't care." "Want pasta for dinner?" "If you do." That kind of thing.

So we did. We saw Alice in Wonderland, which was actually a surprise, since I was sort of dreading it, but there wasn't much to choose from. But it was interesting, and Mal enjoyed the costuming, special effects, and make up. And then, with bellies tied over enough full of M&M's and greasy popcorn, we set off to check in to our temporary "Home Sweet Home".

Or...Hotel You've Got to Be Kidding Me! I'm pretty sure I saw two hookers booking rooms. Do they go by the hour?! I'm paying either way...and a bunch of soccer families are slated to stay there. I get a text: "This place is sketchy! DUMP!" Not off to a good start. I check in, the guy looks at me like "Are you sure you wanna stay here?" Oh my. We open the door on the top end of the horseshoe shaped complex...right close to the street...and potential bullets flying thru the air. Ground floor. With a sign that says "Easy Target". Ok, well, maybe not. But I felt that vulnerable.

So we go in. Within 10 seconds I tell Mal, that bedspread is OFF. We take a whiff and want to cry. WHAT IS THAT SMELL? I have a headache from whatever that smell is in about 15 seconds. I tell my daughter to take a shower, just on the off-chance it's the post 2 game soccer smell. NOPE. She goes to grab a towel. They look definitely laundered but found a single black hair that didn't quite shake loose. I'm vomiting in my mouth at this point. So I plopped on the bed and told my daughter we'd be cranking the heat cuz there's no way we're sleeping between those sheets. Thankfully, she'd brought a pillow and blanket, and I'd brought an extra blanket, but no pillow. Used my sweatshirt as a pillow case. Pretty much, the towel incident ruled out trusting the sheets.

We made it through the night unscathed, albeit with a sore back from a horrible bed (a double by the way), a loud forced air-heater thing, and feeling like I hadn't slept a wink. The moral of this story is...you get what you pay for. I half expected America's Most Wanted to show up with their film crew, I swear.

This is all I know. Next weekend, I'm driving home. It's worth the trip. And the clean pillowcase.

Veggie in a Bowl of Fruit

So I'm not like my sister Grapefruit.

Here's why.

First of all, best laid plans for dinner. I marinate a london broil that is questionable to begin with. Why, you ask? Becuz I bought it several days ago, and instead of looking fresh, lean and red, it's looking slightly green maybe even gray. The package says cook by today, so I go ahead anyway, despite the non-reassuring odor.

Garlic should take care of that, right? A little worschestire. Clorox? (I jest).

Because it's pouring, the grill is out of the question. I'm being ambitious throwing it in the oven at 2:30 pm so even if it's cold, we'll have a homecooked meal. Say, a steak salad. At the very least, we can heat it up. Either way, I'm making dinner. As I sit on the couch eating a very late lunch the smell wafting from the oven isn't quite what I'd anticipated.

The timer goes off. I remove the steak. Hmmmm. Not quite sure. Am I making jerkey or a juicy steak? Tenderizing might have been in order. After I let it sit -- cuz that's what Ina says to do -- I cut into it hoping I might just be misreading the situation. I carve a thin slice and pop it in my mouth.

To quickly spit it right back out.

Yup, that's me. Waited too long to cook that green meat. Although Dr. Suess might have been proud...he could have written a sequel to green eggs and ham...gray steak and wilted lettuce. Instead, my kids were indeed grateful the meal had failed as I was off to Lil Cesears to pick up two $5 pizzas -- truly to their delight.

In fact, when I picked my daughter up from high school soccer practice, and she'd asked what's for dinner, I replied in turn "Pizza" -- she said "YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!" I'm starting to think they don't like my cooking.

I realize I'd waited far too long to cook the meat I'd purchased some days before. But all out cooking just isn't in the cards right now. More than not, we have activities that cut into dinner hour every night of the week. It's exhausting. And it's not bringing me any closer to my visions of impressing Tyler Florence, let alone my flourless chocolate cake Grapefruit sister. Or my master chef father. Or my "lets see whats in the fridge and create a 4 course meal" mother. Or different variety soup and bread every day sister Liz.

Guess I remain the veggie in the fruit bowl. Square peg in the round hole.

At least I had a good hair day!