Shut Up Already

By the title of this post you might think I'm being rather insensitive to my children. But that's not so. I'm talking to myself.

I just got back from watching my first soccer game for my daughter's team. And that sentiment is what I was telling myself the entire time. Just shut up already Jessica. But I couldn't. From the second that whistle blew, there was a force that swept over my brain and wrapped around my vocal chords. It took complete control over my thoughts until I was screaming things I never thought I even cared about.

It has finally come.

I'm a soccer mom.

Now you might be looking at the calendar and thinking to yourself "isn't soccer season almost over?". And you'd be correct. Because of my new career venture, my weekends have been pretty busy and I've managed to miss every other game up until this point, with the exception of the first half of one game a few weeks ago. So here we are three games from the end of the season and I'm finally getting to watch. It's really been heart-breaking to get the text message updates throughout the games as my husband keeps me up to date while he has watched the entire season up to this point. Especially last week when my daughter scored her first goal. Man did I wish I was there when I got that text. Tears even came to my eyes. In fact I'm getting a bit choked up just writing about it.

Now I was so excited that I finally get to go to the last 3 games of the season, and I couldn't wait to watch her play. Except that last night when she went to bed she wasn't feeling well. I think she had a very slight fever, which was probably from a long day of Halloween festivities and being run down, but nonetheless, I had a feeling she might not be playing today. Sure enough, she woke up with a big headache, although no fever, and a bit of a tummy ache. She ate her breakfast, but she just wasn't herself.

Of course this would also be the one day that we were in charge of snacks for the team. So I was up this morning baking Halloween cookies and cutting up watermelon. Before you know it I had to leave, and she was a trooper and put on her team shirt with her sweats and said she wanted to come with me.

So there we are on a wet field, watching the girls run up and down playing their game. I'm keeping my daughter warm and feeling a bit guilty that she's there. Either way you think about it I wasn't on the right side of the equation. I was either dragging my sick child out to a soccer game in the wet and cold morning (who makes those schedules and thinks that 9am is a good time for a Saturday morning soccer game, anyway?) or I was bringing out my somewhat healthy almost perfectly fine child to her team game without any equipment and letting her just sit and watch her teammates work hard for a win. But that's neither here nor there I guess.

As we watched her team fight hard on the defense through most of the first half, I was overcome from the first kick. "Get up there in front of the goal girls!" "Forwards get open!" "Kick it out of there!" "Pass it to the middle!!"

You name it, I was yelling about it. I seriously didn't know I had it in me. Since I've never been to a game and I am part of a carpool for practice, I don't know all the girls on the team. So I'm asking my daughter "who's the one with the ribbon in her hair?" and "what's the name of the girl with the pink shirt on underneath?". Then I'm yelling their names telling them where to go to get the ball and what to do with it.

Seriously. I started laughing at myself. At one point I told myself to just shut up for a while. I'd be quiet for about a minute and then it would just start coming out again.

As I was being possessed, I realized why it might be happening. I'm so used to knowing what to do myself, and watching games where players know what they are doing, that I couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated watching half the team just stand there and wait for the ball to come right to them before they even moved. And even then they sometimes didn't move. To the credit of all the girls, they all did the best they could. It's just that some of them get it and some of them don't. Or they don't care.

Which is totally fine. And I wasn't at all mad about it. I just wanted them all to do better and work hard for their team. So I couldn't help myself from yelling at them. For the record, mostly I just screamed out the obvious and I never pointed anyone out specifically unless they did something great and I told them so.

At the half time, the coach said he would try something new and he told everyone to just go play whatever they wanted and he wasn't going to assign any positions. My inner voice said "WHAT!?" and I panicked and started to tell the girls "someone needs to be on defense!" and shouting other instructions. Seriously, who did I think I was, the coach? I had to shut myself up again.

My daughter toughed it out through the whole game (we had a couple moments where we thought we'd leave) and by the end she was feeling better. And she was right there with me on the sideline yelling for her teammates to get a goal.

It was really rather fun. A bit of an adrenaline rush. Or perhaps that was just the coffee that I was sipping throughout the game.

Before today I had told myself that I would work with my daughter to see if she could play at least 2 or 3 years of soccer so she can get the feel of what it means to be on a team. Between that and softball, she should get some great life lessons. There's responsibility, teamwork, discipline, just to name a few. All wonderful qualities that most athletes possess, and ones that I'm glad she will be exposed to during these few years.

Just over the past week or two I was wondering if I should stick to that philosophy. I certainly don't want to force her to play something she doesn't like. I think I just really want her to like it.

And now after today, I want her to like it even more. I want to be her biggest fan on the sideline screaming like crazy when she gets a goal.

I want to be her soccer mom.

To Play or Not To Play

I've run into a new dilemma lately. So get ready to put on your thinking caps and offer any suggestions that might come to mind.

Recently I got an email requesting a play date with my oldest daughter. It was from the mother of a child in her class. My first reaction was "how nice!". And I of course politely accepted and we started working on dates and times.

While the plans were flying through the virtual world, I mentioned this impending play date to my daughter. And the funny thing is, it didn't occur to me until just that moment that my daughter is too old for me to be setting up her play dates for her. These days she comes to me herself and asks for the play date. More specifically she says "mom, can I go over to so-and-so's house tomorrow after school?" and then we talk about whether this has been cleared through the friends' parents and all that. And then I work with the parents to make sure it's okay, clarify timing, etc.

There have even been times lately when a friend of hers calls the house and they talk about a play date over the phone and arrange it. This is like a bad game of "telephone" with me on the second-hand conversation side with my daughter and the other mom on the second-hand conversation side with my daughter's friend on the other end of the phone. It's like 3 conversations all happening at once.

But I think these are sort of the bridging years for my daughter. She's able to make those calls, or receive them, and then just clear it all through me. In fact, there are times when she goes riding her bike around the neighborhood with the "older" girl next door, and I never even talk to that mom directly. I just assume that mom knows what they are doing, that she's getting the same request as me, and that if she's cleared it with her daughter then it's okay by me.

At some point we are just going to hit the "mom, I'm going outside to play!" point [editor's note: we have actually hit that point, I'm just refusing to remember or admit it] and pretty soon I'm going to have to start sneaking around the neighborhood spying on what she's doing if I want to know exactly who she's with and where they are.

And I don't even want to think about the next stage after that when it involves the opposite gender.

So back to the play date scheduling. I mention it to my daughter and she sort of makes a funny face. We talk about it and as it turns out, she doesn't really know this girl very well and it's not one of the girls she "runs around with" at school. She tells me she's a perfectly nice girl, it's just that it seemed sort of strange to her that they would set up a play date since they are pretty different personalities. I think I may have put a nicer spin on that than my daughter, but you get the idea.

Fast forward and the day arrives. The girl comes over and makes herself at home. I tell my daughter to show her around the house, which she does, and then they pick out a game to play. They spend an hour or so, which is all the time we had, playing politely together. I can of course immediately see the difference between this play date and her usual ones. Much less energy and excitement. Much less drama. And I'm thinking a little less fun for my child.

And that's when I realized that I was put in a tough spot and I did the best I could.

And so did my daughter. I coached her about being nice and open minded, and she did an absolutely wonderful job with it all. Which quite frankly surprised me a bit, since she can be a lot like a 13 year old at times with the attitude.

So we got through it all with flying colors, and when it was over I asked my daughter what she thought of it. She said "it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be".

While not a gold-star response, I'll take it. I told her I was proud of her for being open minded and a polite host.

And then it happened.

Another request. Almost immediately.

Now I'm really in a tough spot. I had no choice but to be "breezy" and say how lovely it all was and that our scheduling is really crazy right now, so "I'll be in touch".

I can't help but feel like one of the "mean girls". But honestly, my children can pick their own friends; that's not part of my job.

So I guess what is part of my job is being politely "breezy" on their behalf so as not to hurt too many feelings.

I hope it worked.

Quotables

Here are some amazing quotes from my younger daughter in the past couple of weeks. I'm not kidding when I say that they were so funny and they were coming so often, that I started writing them down so I could save them in a blog post. And this is coming from the girl that doesn't offer too many words to the public. So today I'll speak on her behalf.

While in the car driving home from the library, talking about nothing in particular.

"We have the best family in the whole world."

Again, while in the car. Again, while talking about nothing in particular, certainly not baby-making.

HER: Where do babies come from?

ME: Inside your tummy.

HER: How do they get in there?

ME: They start out reeeaaallly small, and then they grow bigger.

[This is the same thing I told her sister and it seemed to end the conversation. Not so much this time.]

HER: But how do they get inside your tummy?

ME: Well they are in there and they are really really tiny.

HER: As small as a crumb?

ME: Yes, as small as a crumb. Even smaller.

HER: But how does the crumb get in there?

[Strike two.]

ME: It happens when a mommy and daddy are in love and it comes from their love. And it's really tiny. How small do you think it is?

HER: Like a crumb!

Then I divert her to something else.

One day we were in the kitchen and I was cleaning up some papers and art projects that came home from school with the kids. These same things that seem to accumulate on a massive level every day, let alone every week.

HER: What do you do with all the stuff that I bring home from school?

ME: Some of it I save, and the rest of it I recycle.

HER: You mean you throw away the stuff?

ME: Yes, but just some of it.

HER: Well whoever's mom would do a thing like that?

That'd be your mom, I'm afraid.

Another day we were...you guessed it...in the car. My younger daughter was talking about picking up her sister from school, and all the carpooling we do to and from school and soccer practice.

HER: It's a good thing we have so many booster seats. Cuz you have to have those for the kids in the car. If we didn't, mommy would get a ticket.

ME: That's right. You always have to be safe and make sure everyone uses a booster seat if they aren't big enough to ride without one yet.

HER: Yup. Cuz if you got a ticket then you and daddy would have to clean up the streets.

Good thing we have those booster seats because neon orange has never been one of my colors.

When I was trying to fix her bothersome cheap dresser from IKEA, I was pounding away at the side of it trying to make sure it would stay together. She came up to me and said one heck of a stunner.

HER: Daddy should do that.

ME: Why? I can fix things too.

HER: Yeah, but you're the pretty one.

ME (after regaining my composure): Well thank you for the compliment, but just because I'm pretty doesn't mean I can't fix things.

HER: Oh.

I'm not sure that one really stuck with her, but we'll have to reiterate that point again soon. Really, where did she come up with that? How is it that she assumed it is an either/or situation? I think we need to start a show called "Barbara the Builder".

And finally, one other time....in the car. Do you get the idea that we do a lot of driving around?

HER: Mommy how do they build cars?

ME: Well they start with something called an axle. And they connect wheels to it. And they make two of them for every car, they are called a rear axle and a front axle, one for the rear wheels in the back and the front wheels in the front of the car. Then those parts are connected with something called a chassis, which holds all the parts of the car in.

HER: Just like skin! Our skin holds all the parts of our body in!

Yes, our skin holds all of our parts in.

Including that amazing little noggin of yours.

Buried Alive

Do you ever feel like you are slowly being buried in a pile of crumbs, wrappers, and crap that says "Made in China" on the bottom?

What? You don't? Well, lucky you, because I do. At least 13 out of every 14 days that is.

My house cleaners came yesterday and the second I walked in a did what I always do. I stopped and looked around. And I admired. Ah, a clean house. It only happens once every 2 weeks, so I always stop for a few minutes and just smell the cleanliness.

And then I proceed to fool myself into thinking that I can maintain it for a while. For the rest of that day, every time the sink gets dirty, or food drops on the floor, I immediately clean it up. I'll even get out the dust buster just to make sure that the popcorn on the floor is banished from my site. On house cleaning day, I just want the house to stay clean. Is that too much to ask?

Of course last night's dinner involved some grated cheese, which always seems to attract my children like ants on honey. Now don't get me started on the ant problems we are having lately, because that's a whole other picnic my friends.

So those little grubby hands reach up on to the counter, grab grated cheese and shove it into eagerly awaiting mouths. With no thought to the fact that it's getting all over my spanking clean kitchen floor.

It's just all downhill after Monday cleaning day. I get to enjoy the clean house for that one day, and that's all she wrote.

Within one hour of all three of my kids being home this afternoon the playroom looks like it just survived a tornado. They have moved the couch into the middle of the room, with pillows and blankets strewn around it. Then my son has decided to get out all the pieces to four different games, none of which are being played at the time, and he adds his decorative touches the mess. There are game boards and dice, Zingo cards and pawns, not to mention the Uno cards, all scattered about, making it look like...well, you get the idea.

I started to clean it all up and then I just threw my hands in the air. Lately I just don't have the time to clean up as I would like, and frankly I don't have the time to care as much about it either. Which is nice. A bit of a refreshing change in my life. It's teaching me to let go a little.

But I really don't want to let go of cleaning day. Just that one day.

Every two weeks.

Cleanliness and order.

In an otherwise chaotic life.