Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Wow.  It has certainly been a long time since I've written anything.  It's not that I don't think about blog posts.  I have many good intentions; I have many ideas for posts and notes jotted down; however, I have moved my laptop from the couch to the table.  This is both good and bad.  It's good in that I'm less likely to get sucked into watching tv and hanging out online.  It's bad in that I don't hang out watching tv and hanging out online.  This change in location also means that I'm more apt to do "drive by updates" on facebook, but less likely to sit down long enough to compose something thoughtful.  I've read enough blogs to realize that the self-indulgent, thoughtless blogger is worse than no blogger.  Hence, my silence.

However, today was such a nice day that I'm compelled to share it with you.  Actually, the day had nothing to do with me.  It was a beautiful day for my youngest son, aka The Feral Third.

TFT has had a rough month or so.  You see, his soccer team merged with a team from another club and there will now be enough kids to have two teams.  Sadly, TFT did not make the A team.  Even sadder, all of his buddies did make the A team.  This has been very upsetting and devastating for him as you might imagine.  No matter what spin we put on it, he knows that he is going to be playing weaker teams, in a weaker division, not going to tournaments, and will not have the prestigious coach.  He also believes this marks the beginning of the end of his soccer career and he foresees playing JV in high school while his buddies all play varsity.  Yes, we adults know he's waaaaay over analyzing this all, but reality is that he is over analyzing this and this is his life right now.  He totally feels slighted, insulted, and demeaned.

Yes, we've all been there, done that and lived to tell the tale.  He just has a lot of emotional energy to put into this tale these days (weeks?  this has dragged on and on).

Anyway, to make what has been a miserable month shorter for the sake of the rest of you (no one else should have to live my misery and believe me, I've shared it enough already with others), he has felt overlooked by his friends who, being on the A team, do some sort of running club or something.  He was invited once and didn't go because we got off to a slow start (no pun intended) that morning, but he clearly feels that if he were wanted there, he'd have been in on it from the beginning and then he found out that they also play soccer afterward and, again, he wasn't "in on it".  He was an after thought.

Again, play me a violin....

So, that sets the stage.  Probably 99% of all of this angst is in his imagination, but he's been bringing that imagination to life in our family's daily life for a month now.

Last night, though, things began to look up.  Two of his mates spent the night and they never once talked about soccer.  Thank the stars.

It was a total flash back to 2005 or so, when my eldest (hmmm....do I have a blog name for him?  I might, but thanks to chemo brain, I can't remember) and his mates would get together.  It was a mini-me of the current teenagers hanging out here at the same time.

On top of the emotional wanking that has been going on, we've also had lots of late nights and slow mornings for the past month.  I was out of town for about 10 days, and my husband is an early to bed kind of guy, which meant that the kids were very, very late to bed.  Those of you who still have enough control over your children to have bedtime, might be shocked to hear that an 11 year old was regularly going to bed at 2 a.m. or later and sleeping until noon, but that is a pattern we've fallen into.  Add in a visit from the cousins which makes for a week with looser rules than usual, and...chaos regarding sleep hygiene.

So last night, I agreed to these other two boys spending the night in part to keep the hormonal Feral Third happy but also because I saw it as an opportunity to enforce a bedtime without an argument.  Who wants to act like a toddler and throw a tantrum in front of their friends?  The deal was OK to the sleepover if they agreed to lights out and a movie turned low at midnight. 

It worked.  I removed all the video game controllers so that they weren't tempted to cheat, told them if they'd lay still, they'd be cooler, and they were out.

The Third Wave

This also meant then were awake fairly early this morning.  I was reading and came out of my room at 8:45 and found all three of them awake.  Awake and looking like the older boys they so admire.  I have since begun referring to them as The Third Wave.

Sorting Game Pieces

Now, back in the day, in 2005 or so, my eldest and his buddies would have some wild Risk games.  They'd combine games, boards, pieces, and rules and play for entire weekends.  There have also been many Risk games played at our home by many, many young boys in this town.  It is also a tradition to play Risk with the cousins when they come to visit each year.  It was very heart warming to see The Third Wave getting it on with World Domination with such glee.

Of course, you can't have boys in the house (even if they are on the patio) without feeding them.  I was flashing back to the days when I would regularly stock up on cheap frozen pizzas, frozen burritos, jarred spaghetti sauce, and other food items in mass quantities because I never knew when I'd be called upon to provide food for the hungry hoards.

It's been awhile.

So a trip to the grocery was called for. Hoping that this will not be the last time we have a hoard of hungry boys, I stocked up. 


Then I got to do what I love doing the most.  Providing food for people I love. 

And these people were very appreciative!

The day continued without a hitch.  It included a walk to Walgreen's, a game of volley ball and one of badminton.  They then went to one of the other boys' homes for dinner, returned here, were playing something that involved yelling and running in the dark, and at 10 p.m., more than 24 hours after it  started, the "sleep over" ended.

No fuss, no muss (they did have to be persuaded to clean up the family room, but they did a good job), no arguments, and only one injury (and that was in the last 15 minutes).

I know my member of the Third Wave was asleep early and easily tonight, and I hope he is feeling better about his predicament or at least had 24 hours of not stewing over how unfair life can be at times. 

Yes, it can be, son, but it is still a wild and wonderful place and you might as well ride it hard while you can.

And I'm glad there are Risk players back in the house.

Why soccer rocks the world

I heart soccer. The only thing better than watching my own kids play soccer is watching the World Cup matches.

As parents, my husband and I made a conscious choice to sign our eldest up for soccer over T-ball. We could only afford to enroll him in one activity that year, and soccer it was.

Our thinking at the time was that soccer was more egalitarian, less US-centric, and, as a sport, would reinforce values such as cooperation and teamwork. Also, we figured, soccer could be played just about anywhere, by just about anyone, and didn't require special equipment...in a pinch, any ball with bounce would do or a wad of rags.

Soccer can also be played alone.

So far, this has proven to be a good decision and we don't regret it. For the most part, it has been a very positive experience for all three boys. It has been a positive experience for us as parents, too. In fact, I've missed sitting on the sidelines with the parents of Nathan's cohort this past season, since he didn't play spring ball nor is he playing June league.

Both of the older boys have met and formed what very well could be life long friendships playing soccer.

However, the absolutely one of the bestest "soccer is wonderful" stories I've heard was posted to my facebook wall today.

I had started the thread by commenting that I like the sound of thousands of vuvuzelas being blown en masse. Really, I do. At least on tv.

One of my long-time friends, from waaaaay back in high school, commented that she imagines her one son, who is autistic and not highly verbal, must also like the sound of the vuvuzela. In her words:

tom and i both think the drone is what makes george a world cup fan. today he even said "soccer" -- and he RARELY says two syllable words.

Doesn't that speak to the miracle of soccer? How awesome is that!!! It brought a tear to my eye.

Soccer has certainly rocked his world.

Busy, Satisfying Weekend

This is going to be a boring entry...feel free to skip:)

I have a love-hate relationship with busy times. Compared to many families, we aren't busy at all. Compared to my childhood, we are crazy busy. At one point in my childhood, my days consisted of riding bikes, maybe doing swim lessons, and then hanging out at the pool until lunch time. Coming home for lunch. Then back to the pool until dinner. After supper, backyard kickball games, catching fire-flies, and more bike riding. Even in high school, I wasn't that busy. I participated in some of the plays, but avoided Drama Club and it's activities. I played a little rec league softball, but no school sponsored sports. I seem to remember spending a lot of time lying around, listening to music and talking to friends. Of course, I remember some other activities that are better off not discussed in a public blog my children have access to, but in general, I wasn't busy.

At least not as compared to the young people I know today.

This is the tail end of soccer season. This season, we are less "busy" than seasons of the past because Nathan isn't playing, nor are he and Aidan reffing. When all three boys played on travel teams, and two of them also reffed, and Nathan wasn't yet driving, we were busy. But that's not the case this year.

Because we knew Thursday through Saturday would be busy, we used Wednesday evening to have Tynan's celebratory Birthday Dinner. He chose Dairy Queen, complete with food and ice cream. So, Tynan, Aidan, Nathan, Patience, Louis and I walked to DQ. While there, Aidan remembered he had to attend the high school art show, so he and Louis left for that, while the rest of us finished ice cream and walked home.

Thursday, I got my all clear, and then in a sort of dumbstruck, happy, giddy mood, I went shopping for Aidan's summer wardrobe, if you consider two bathing suits and a few polo shirts a summer wardrobe. Came home, got to have a wonderful conversation on the phone with my wonderful sister-in-law, Anna. Did some celebrating my good news with my husband and older sons. When Tynan came home, we let him open presents (being the lame-o family we are, they weren't wrapped but they were buried under crap in the back end of the van....does that count?) and he very happily rode his new skateboard thingie and blasted away with his new nerf gun....until time for soccer, which we had to force him to go to. I'm not sure what happened, but Aidan ended up helping Nathan coach instead of going to his own practice, and then, as it turned out, Tynan's practice had been cancelled, but he got to hang with some friends and skateboard, so all was good.

Later that evening, Brendan joined us. It was his birthday as well, the big 18. I do know that at some point, he and Nathan were talking about how he could celebrate turning 18....he could buy tobacco products or porn. Tobacco products didn't really appeal to him and porn can be gotten for free on the internet, so I guess they decided instead to hit the streets with their long boards. I think that was a good decision. I'm glad they didn't decided to go tattoo shopping or join the military just because....I suggested he register to vote, but that wasn't celebratory enough.

Friday rolled around, rainy and overcast. The start of the local Relay for Life. Tynan also had a soccer game (they won). Aidan hung with me and Patience at the Relay. Nathan had to work. Then the Relay was delayed for heavy weather.

Saturday morning it was back to the Relay, where Nathan, Aidan, Patience and I walked until Nathan had to leave to coach. Poor Aidan had been up all night at a sleepover, but he hung tough. Tynan and Louis showed up briefly, but then had to leave for Tynan's game. Nathan came back to help us tear down after his game (his team lost), and then we all hustled over to catch the last 3/4 of Tynan's game (they won). Then hustled over to Aidan's last home game (they won), then home to set up for Tynan's birthday party (Louis had done the prep work of making cupcakes and several dozen pbj sandwiches).

At 3:30, we were descended upon by 15 ten year old boys and their nerf guns....OK, if my memory serves me correctly, it was 13 nine to ten year olds, my two older boys and one of their friends. After a rousing game of kickball, they had he nerf gun battle to end all battles, scarfed numerous sandwiches and...well, you get the picture. We had it at at local elementary school playground, and I do believe a good time was had by all.

Sunday was much more sedate. My mother-in-law and brother-in-law came over for lunch and patio sitting (our favorite good weather past time). Then I had to hustle Aidan into the netherworld of NW Ohio for yet another soccer game (they won). When I got home around 8 pm, i was done. But I still had to book Aidan's flights to Puerto Rico. I hate doing stuff like that. Really hate it. I always feel like there's a better deal out there somewhere and I missed it. I'm sure that's true, too. I'm also willing to pay more for convenience, and if a web site isn't intuitive, I'm less inclined to use it.

I had a beer or two, maybe three, and went to bed. I didn't get up to exercise this morning. I'm using "at the peak of my fatigue" as an excuse. But I'll go later. Now, Amy is picking me up here in a few minutes and we are off to do some shopping and exchanging of the swim suits I got for Aidan.

So, what was your weekend like?

Spring Break! part 3

Amy and I returned to reality today, which involved (a) getting confused on the way home and (b) lunch at The Forks in Pemberville. I'd provide a link, but apparently, there are none to The Forks.

I arrived home to find that the cleaning fairies had come earlier in the day. Nothing better to come home to....yes, I know that I should probably say "I arrived home to find my children ensconced on the couch, waiting for me....nothing better to come home to...." but really, they are there nearly every day. It's not every day my house is clean. That will probably never, ever happen again. But daily I find boyz on my couch.

Later, the boys had a soccer game, which I was to "coach." It was a brutal game. Lots of annoying poor sportsmanship on both sides, and the ref is the absolute worst ref ever on the face of the earth....

But we won in a miraculous come-back; the boys on the bench were kind and welcoming to Tynan; and did I mention we won? OK, they won. I didn't do anything but hang out and be the person over 18 on the bench. The boys do all the rest. They are a great group of boys.

Then home to a generously provided dinner, a fast trip to the grocery store to get stuff for lunches tomorrow, and now I'm ready for bed.

Back to reality:)