Let me preface this by saying- I am the mom of two boys who has never played a team sport. I danced. Sounds girly, but really I think when I started it was all about the recital. I saw the cool costumes, the stage, the lights, and thought, YES! I didn't know that I would have to take lessons for 9 months to get there. But I stuck with it because after 7 years of watching the bigger girls in the opening number and the ballet, I wanted my turn. It was not as climactic as I expected I have to say.
So last Saturday at my seven-year-old's basketball game I lost my friggin' mind and stomped across the court and told the ref he wasn't calling a fair game. To my defense, I waited until they were making a substitution or something so it's not like I plowed down three kids to cross the court. Also, I did not cuss or raise my voice or argue when the ref said,"Get off my court NOW!" I had simply stated what I felt and walked away.
I know it was wrong, it was horribly wrong! My husband was miffed, mortified, and mad. My husband is the sports star. He tells me all the time to keep my mouth shut. My problem I think, I was not in a team sport. I didn't have the experience of practising, playing, and sometimes learning that life is not fair. To me, it's totally about being fair, that's a ref's job. Impartially judging the game according to the rules and making everyone stick to them - even my son.
It's not even all about winning, we tell our son that all the time and after a game ask him what he's learned. But that's just it! After 5 sports season my son's never ever won a game. Not one. How long is he going to stay positive and interested in sports when he's never had a winning experience?
Then again, what do I know? A shuffle ball change, a grand jete, and the infamous Solid Gold jazz hands. That is certainly not going to help my son on the basketball court especially with the ref's. So my neighbor has suggested Tootsie Roll Pops - How many licks does it take to get to the end of a basketball game?
I am a mom, this I know, but there is so much I don't. Some people say motherhood is the most awesome job, it is, so why do I feel tired, dirty, and inadequate most of the time? Hopefully you will find hope, humor, and help in my rants regarding life from inside - the Mommyhood.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Warning - Mature Content
I am convinced that 50% of all marriages fail, not because of money problems - but sex. Step aside Mr. Masters and take your Johnson! Hustle this Larry! Playboy - more like PlayGramps it's just gross! They're already wrinkled but that one has to look like a raisin by now.
Must everything revolve around their man parts? I have never heard a women say, God I just need to get laid. I've never heard of a restaurant that serves cheap alcohol and crappy food but the redeeming factor is well hung men in a Speedo. Don't even get me started on adult films, why even bother watching, when have you ever heard of a male porn star - ever?
To be fair, when we women get together we do talk about our bodies, and what is falling apart or sagging now that we've had children. How do you feel good having sex when you no longer feel good getting dressed in front of a mirror. I used to buy a bra based on how cute it looked on me, not anymore. After nursing two children I just pray for a bra that can take what now looks like two pathetically empty crepes and turn it into something that resembles a B cup. And don't get me started on my derriere, I think Victoria's Secret is she's keeping the wonder underpants for herself.
Isn't it bad enough that men can not think without their slong? No! They have to talk to it, consult it, inquire like it is the most important person in the relationship. I have never felt the need to talk with my vajay-jay. I think that if I were to ask my female parts what they need the answer would be simple - more sleep!
Must everything revolve around their man parts? I have never heard a women say, God I just need to get laid. I've never heard of a restaurant that serves cheap alcohol and crappy food but the redeeming factor is well hung men in a Speedo. Don't even get me started on adult films, why even bother watching, when have you ever heard of a male porn star - ever?
To be fair, when we women get together we do talk about our bodies, and what is falling apart or sagging now that we've had children. How do you feel good having sex when you no longer feel good getting dressed in front of a mirror. I used to buy a bra based on how cute it looked on me, not anymore. After nursing two children I just pray for a bra that can take what now looks like two pathetically empty crepes and turn it into something that resembles a B cup. And don't get me started on my derriere, I think Victoria's Secret is she's keeping the wonder underpants for herself.
Isn't it bad enough that men can not think without their slong? No! They have to talk to it, consult it, inquire like it is the most important person in the relationship. I have never felt the need to talk with my vajay-jay. I think that if I were to ask my female parts what they need the answer would be simple - more sleep!
Monday, December 6, 2010
On a serious note
I have literally not turned on Oprah since my now seven-year-old was an infant and napping at 4:00 p.m..
By divine intervention I turned on Oprah today and saw Michelle Rhee, former Washington D.C. Public School Chancellor announced her next job - Studentsfirst.org.
She has vowed to do for America's schools what she did for Washington, D.C Public Schools. If you are passionate about making our children #1 in the world - please visit the website and join the movement today. In my opinion there is no greater gift we can give our children then knowledge.
http://www.studentsfirst.org/
If you would like to see more, watch Waiting for Superman.
By divine intervention I turned on Oprah today and saw Michelle Rhee, former Washington D.C. Public School Chancellor announced her next job - Studentsfirst.org.
She has vowed to do for America's schools what she did for Washington, D.C Public Schools. If you are passionate about making our children #1 in the world - please visit the website and join the movement today. In my opinion there is no greater gift we can give our children then knowledge.
http://www.studentsfirst.org/
If you would like to see more, watch Waiting for Superman.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Wii Wii Wii all the way home
Oh the madness!
Did anyone else have trouble with their children when they got the Wii? In our defense, we have let the children play a little each day, but consequently had to listen to fighting, screaming, punching, kicking, and huge tantrums at bedtime. My husband is less than thrilled (read earlier post) and ready to throw it in a dumpster.
I've tried to rationalize this a hundred ways, but honestly if I have to listen to the four-year-old scream for two hours at bedtime one more night I will trow it out myself. The only rational I have left - genetics - this is all my husbands fault!
Did anyone else have trouble with their children when they got the Wii? In our defense, we have let the children play a little each day, but consequently had to listen to fighting, screaming, punching, kicking, and huge tantrums at bedtime. My husband is less than thrilled (read earlier post) and ready to throw it in a dumpster.
I've tried to rationalize this a hundred ways, but honestly if I have to listen to the four-year-old scream for two hours at bedtime one more night I will trow it out myself. The only rational I have left - genetics - this is all my husbands fault!
Friday, December 3, 2010
My kind of Family....
Growing up in a small town I attended Catholic school. If you live here in these parts going to Catholic school is more of the norm and not the exception. In our town it was truly the opposite. Consequently I sat next to the girl whose last name started a with a C, mine started with a D, for six years.
I left the Catholic school before anyone else in my class did. It was traumatic. I went to the Public Junior High School by myself and people actually asked me if I had just moved here - the towns population is approximately 8,000 and most are cousins. Needless to say I was the lonely outcast for a couple of years. I digress.
Once in High School I reconnected with that girl whose last name started with the C, mine starting with a D, we were still seated next to each other. That was really the first time that we had hung out together and I spent anytime at her house. It was quickly apparent where she got her wicked sense of humor. Her mother is hysterically funny.
They are that delightfully delicious funny that makes you not only pee your pants just a little, but makes you want to curl up on the couch and become a permanent fixture. As teenagers we would walk into the local JC Penny store and my friend would run up to a mannequin and say, "Julia! Where have you been I haven't seen you for ages!" Making 50 something store clerks glare at us and whisper - "Drugs!" They were the family that would attack each other, in a good way, I think. Icing steps, greasing door handles, decorating the inside of cars and rooms and on occasion breaking into each others houses to pull off a rouse. Like the time they rearranged the furniture while their parent were out for the night.
For years her mother drove around town with a large Barbie head, the kind you could do the hair on, sitting up in the back window like a passenger. She would go to garage sales and purchase varies hats, headbands, and head ornaments for it. Her mother also started a tradition at the annual festival's parade where she and her girlfriends would hunt all year for the ugliest prom dresses they could find and then they would sit along the parade route with tiara's and sashes as the "Queens of the Parade". Waving royally at all floats and real queens (those poor teenage girls really didn't get it) that passed before them.
Needless to say, that when I see an email from my friend pop up with an attachment I brace myself, and usually hit the bathroom first so as not to soil myself. The latest was what my friends children did to their Uncle with the help of their Grandmother (surprised?) after he fell asleep on the floor after Thanksgiving dinner, really? I don't think I would have ever slept in that house.
I left the Catholic school before anyone else in my class did. It was traumatic. I went to the Public Junior High School by myself and people actually asked me if I had just moved here - the towns population is approximately 8,000 and most are cousins. Needless to say I was the lonely outcast for a couple of years. I digress.
Once in High School I reconnected with that girl whose last name started with the C, mine starting with a D, we were still seated next to each other. That was really the first time that we had hung out together and I spent anytime at her house. It was quickly apparent where she got her wicked sense of humor. Her mother is hysterically funny.
They are that delightfully delicious funny that makes you not only pee your pants just a little, but makes you want to curl up on the couch and become a permanent fixture. As teenagers we would walk into the local JC Penny store and my friend would run up to a mannequin and say, "Julia! Where have you been I haven't seen you for ages!" Making 50 something store clerks glare at us and whisper - "Drugs!" They were the family that would attack each other, in a good way, I think. Icing steps, greasing door handles, decorating the inside of cars and rooms and on occasion breaking into each others houses to pull off a rouse. Like the time they rearranged the furniture while their parent were out for the night.
For years her mother drove around town with a large Barbie head, the kind you could do the hair on, sitting up in the back window like a passenger. She would go to garage sales and purchase varies hats, headbands, and head ornaments for it. Her mother also started a tradition at the annual festival's parade where she and her girlfriends would hunt all year for the ugliest prom dresses they could find and then they would sit along the parade route with tiara's and sashes as the "Queens of the Parade". Waving royally at all floats and real queens (those poor teenage girls really didn't get it) that passed before them.
Needless to say, that when I see an email from my friend pop up with an attachment I brace myself, and usually hit the bathroom first so as not to soil myself. The latest was what my friends children did to their Uncle with the help of their Grandmother (surprised?) after he fell asleep on the floor after Thanksgiving dinner, really? I don't think I would have ever slept in that house.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Our Christmas Lists....
Christmas lists are a traditional part of the holiday season for some of us they are exciting eventful even and for the rest of us problematic. Jewelry? Silver, gold, costume? Star Wars action figure? Cade Bane, Boba Fett, Jar Jar who?
As a child however, there was no greater fun then pouring over the catalogs, watching Saturday morning cartoons, or if you were lucky, hitting a toy store with Grams to check out all the latest loot. The most problematic part was prioritizing or finding a paper big enough for the entire list.
Now as a parent myself I see the flaw in the idea of letting the boys make a list 12 miles long, how do I know what they really want? Do they know what they really want? It was for that reason, and others, (like the traumatic Christmas I whispered my list to Santa only to find none of the items under the tree, some elf, huh!) that I have told my boys that they can ask Santa for three things, and he'll pick one to put under the tree.
There is still the element of surprise, Which one will he bring? There is the need to prioritize. What do I really want? And for me, options! Like last year when the then six-year-old asked for a Nintendo DS, Army guys, and something else expensive? (Please do you really think I could remember that a year later!) He got the Army guys. This year the now seven-year-old has asked for a Drum set, Nerf guns, or Tech Decks. He obviously does not feel inhibited, a drum set? Yeah, Santa know better than that!
So we recently took a trip to Toys R Us where they could peruse the aisles and tell me anything they thought they might want to put on their list later. The four-year-old went up and down the aisles saying, "I want this, and this and this and this". It was pretty funny considering he would look to make sure I was writing, and that he had things like a magic eight ball, collectors edition retro KISS dolls in full regalia, and a 64 pack of crayons. When he wrote to Claus though, there was only one thing on the list, Star Wars. Great. The seven-year-old was so cautious with his choices that I finally told him to tell me something and he could pare it down later.
Mommy's Wish list: a professional kitchen since that's where I spend 99% of my time, a maid-so that she could spend 99% of her time in the professional kitchen while I get spa treatments, beach vacations, and lots of girl time.
Mommy's Christmas list: a very snowy, loud and crazy Christmas morning followed by a long, cozy Christmas day with my family. Happy Holiday's!
As a child however, there was no greater fun then pouring over the catalogs, watching Saturday morning cartoons, or if you were lucky, hitting a toy store with Grams to check out all the latest loot. The most problematic part was prioritizing or finding a paper big enough for the entire list.
Now as a parent myself I see the flaw in the idea of letting the boys make a list 12 miles long, how do I know what they really want? Do they know what they really want? It was for that reason, and others, (like the traumatic Christmas I whispered my list to Santa only to find none of the items under the tree, some elf, huh!) that I have told my boys that they can ask Santa for three things, and he'll pick one to put under the tree.
There is still the element of surprise, Which one will he bring? There is the need to prioritize. What do I really want? And for me, options! Like last year when the then six-year-old asked for a Nintendo DS, Army guys, and something else expensive? (Please do you really think I could remember that a year later!) He got the Army guys. This year the now seven-year-old has asked for a Drum set, Nerf guns, or Tech Decks. He obviously does not feel inhibited, a drum set? Yeah, Santa know better than that!
So we recently took a trip to Toys R Us where they could peruse the aisles and tell me anything they thought they might want to put on their list later. The four-year-old went up and down the aisles saying, "I want this, and this and this and this". It was pretty funny considering he would look to make sure I was writing, and that he had things like a magic eight ball, collectors edition retro KISS dolls in full regalia, and a 64 pack of crayons. When he wrote to Claus though, there was only one thing on the list, Star Wars. Great. The seven-year-old was so cautious with his choices that I finally told him to tell me something and he could pare it down later.
Mommy's Wish list: a professional kitchen since that's where I spend 99% of my time, a maid-so that she could spend 99% of her time in the professional kitchen while I get spa treatments, beach vacations, and lots of girl time.
Mommy's Christmas list: a very snowy, loud and crazy Christmas morning followed by a long, cozy Christmas day with my family. Happy Holiday's!
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