Great. Christmas is RUINED. Again.

Some of you might not know this about me, but I come from a fairly sarcastic family. As a result, sarcasm is pretty much an established fixture at all family holidays and gatherings. Over the years, one of my kids favorite traditions is pointing out the various ways in which a particular holiday or occasion has been "ruined!" by someone. Usually me. And to have the appropriate effect, you must declare in your most exasperated voice "Oh Great! Now its ruined!" This works for birthdays, holidays, sunday dinners, vacations...just about any time family is together. 

Sometimes, this accusation is justifiable. Like the Thanksgiving when I forgot to thaw the turkey. And we spent about 7 hours with a turkey in the bathtub trying to get it thawed enough for it to be cookable, and still have enough time to eat dinner before midnight. Other times, a person can be called out for merely not making enough gravy. Its a tough crowd. Be-LIEVE me! Over the years, there have been a plethora of "ruined" holidays that all went down in a variety of ways, some more epic than others. These are some of the ways I have learned over the years to "ruin!" a holiday or special occasion for my kids...

1. When doing a last minute (like, Christmas Eve level of "last minute") gift tag shuffle, thanks to some family members who opted to purchase an item already allotted to a different person, thus forcing me to try to avoid a kid opening 2 of the same things, you can accidentally leave the original "To:--- From:---" gift tag on it even though this gift has now been re-allotted to being from Santa. So the kid opens his "santa gift" only to see a tag written in Mom's handwriting, indicating its from another family member. Not only does this "ruin" the Christmas in question, but has the added benefit of epically ruining all future Christmases by, in one fell swoop, dashing the childhood fantasy of Santa forever. Totally Epic.

2. Although not officially my fault, you can get your oven/stove to go kaput the week before Thanksgiving (or any holiday), thus resulting in a complete inability to provide any of the expected traditional holiday menu selections, and starting a new tradition (which thankfully lasted only the one year) of ribs in a crock pot, powdered mashed potatoes made in a microwave, salad, and bread for Thanksgiving followed by ice cream instead of pie.

3. Not enough gravy. Or biscuits. Apparently these items are of near critical importance.

4. After promising the traditional Christmas morning breakfast of homemade french toast, you can realize you are completely out of syrup. So make your 13 year old go with you, at 7:30am in your pajamas, to every quick stop, gas station, grocery, convenience store, and Walmart in the area looking for someplace that is not only OPEN, but that also stocks syrup. When you don't find any (because you won't find any), offer to make alternate breakfast options only to be told that its not "really Christmas" without the french toast and that the day will be, you guessed it, "ruined!" without a breakfast of french toast.  Said kid will now have to canvas the neighborhood looking for a neighbor who is not only up at the ass-crack of dawn, but who also has a surplus of syrup on hand that they are willing to part with. All before you have had your morning Diet Coke. Or coffee. Or whatever your morning drug of choice is.

5. Accidentally mix up the color selections. And put the 10 year old's sweatshirt (in HIS color choice) in the 13 year old's box, and the 13 year old's sweatshirt (in HIS color choice) in the 10 year old's box. Oh the horror.

6. Forget to take pictures. That is a classic that can be reused year after year. Not that I would know this. Just speculation.

7. Make your family celebrate Christmas in Alabama. Nuf said.

8. Forget to hide the Christmas pickle. In fact, if you do this often enough, you can actually ruin the tradition of "forgetting to hide the Christmas pickle" by actually hiding the damn thing, and pissing everyone off for making them look for it. 

9. Forget to actually have a prize/gift item for the kid who finds the Christmas pickle the one time you remember to hide it. This can set you up nicely for future Christmases when they don't know what to expect from the pickle situation in years to come (did she hide it? or didn't she? will there be anything for me if she DID hide it? or will it all be for nothing in the end anyway?)

10. Insist that the children wait for you to complete a 5 mile run before being able to open Christmas presents. Even if you don't follow through with it, the looks on their faces when you tell them this will be totally worth it. The longer you can keep a straight face the better. If you have running attire, I recommend putting it on so as to really "sell it".

11. Burn the pies. 

12. Let the kids watch a movie, like Gremlins for instance, on Christmas Eve without remembering the part in the movie where the girl gives a speech about why she doesn't like Christmas that ends with "...and that's how I learned that Santa Claus wasn't real." The look on your 6 year old's face will be priceless.

13. Forget whose turn it is to put the Army ornament on the tree this year. Ask the 10 year old and 13 year old to work it out by themselves. This is so much fun, in fact, that it might even be enough to "ruin" the entire week before Christmas.

14. Remind a child under the age of 6, while in the middle of midnight mass, that there is nothing you can do about the fact that he/she is suddenly dying of hunger, since you don't have any food items stashed in your purse. This can make a "come to Jesus" moment much more convenient, since you are already at Jesus' place. And apparently, its a lot of fun for the other parishioners seated in your vicinity as well. By the way, pointing out to a child in this situation that Santa is, in fact, still watching and has time to bypass said child's home will NOT help the situation. Unless by help you mean "escalates the situation exponentially". Then, yes. It helps.

I hope this helps you all ruin your family holidays as much as it has helped me ruin them for mine. Happy Holidays.

My Dog is a Heat Hog

Winter isn't just coming - its here. Maybe it hasn't arrived full throttle yet, with all its guns blazing. But its here. Its cold outside every day. There are no more 60 degree days, no more brief pockets of respite from the constant chill in the air. Don't get me wrong - I'm not complaining. I actually LOVE winter. I grew up in an area where sledding, skiing, snow mobiling, skating, and all types of winter snowy fun were everywhere. I learned to bundle up and enjoy it, because the only other alternative was to be miserable for 3-4 months. But I'm also not a fan of being cold for the sake of being cold, which is why the learning to "bundle up" part was such a crucial part of the lesson growing up. Because lets face it - NO one has ever EVER met a kid with ice cold toes and soaking wet mittens who was a joy to be around, or in anything resembling a good mood. 

So I enjoy winter, but I enjoy it because I know how to stay warm and comfortable. I have the cozy blankets out on the couch that I can bundle up under when I am watching TV or reading a good book. Hot chocolate and hot spiced cider become a more frequent beverage of choice in front of the fireplace. I pull my fuzzy socks out from the back of the drawer and wear them around the house instead of flip flops. My turtle necks and sweaters and sweatshirts reappear from the bottom of the chest where they are stored in the summer. And the thermostat gets set accordingly. 

Now I don't need the house to be at Miami, Florida temperatures in the winter. Usually 68 degrees is the generally agreed upon comfortable temperature for our house during the cold months. And for the most part, this temperature setting has been more than adequate to meet our warming needs. Until this winter. When our dog got smarter. And is now sucking my heat.

I thought it was only my husband who had a habit of being a heat sucker. You know, someone who is cold and decides to cozy up to you when you are nice and warm, and suck your heat away from you for themselves. And I don't care how often you try to say it. Placing your cold feet on my toasty warm feet isn't "sharing" heat. Because now my feet are cold as fucking ice!! And your feet are now getting the benefit of MY heat!! That's not sharing. That is stealing. Sucking my heat. And now the dog has gotten in on the action.

In our front room we have 2 windows that go all the way to the floor, and the 2 heat vents for this room are right under these windows. On one window, the vent is off set to one side, leaving half of the floor in front of the window open and bare. Every night, as I am straightening things up from the disarray of the day before, I make sure the dog's bed is in this bare spot in front of the window. I know she likes to look out the window and watch the snow fall or the squirrels running or the neighbors walking their dogs. So I make sure she has plenty of room to do this from her bed. 

At some point(s) throughout the day, she is moving her dog bed on top of that vent. I don't just mean that it accidentally slid over a little bit, or that it shifted slightly to one side. No. That sucker has been dragged or pushed or pulled or hauled over to be left completely on top of and covering the heat vent. There isn't a single little tiny slat left for air to blow into the room that isn't completely blocked by her damn dog bed.

So we have a little game we like to play. I move her bed off the vent. I leave the room to go about my day. While I am gone, she moves her bed back on top of the heat vent and sleeps all toasty warm in her personal heat infused dog bed, secure in the knowledge that she has effectively sucked up all the heat in the room for herself. I return to the room and move her bed off the vent. This will happen at least 3 times a day. Every day. What. The. Shit.

And this is not a prima donna dog. She loves to romp in the snow and go for long winter walks in the woods. She's not doing it because she is too dainty to handle being a tad bit chilly. She is just effing with me. Taunting me when I am not looking. Like its all some big hilarious game to her. This is the shit I'd expect from my kids. Not someone who doesn't even have opposable thumbs. I guess I should have expected that this dog would be trouble eventually. After all, she IS from Alabama. 

Don't be a Dick-tka!!!!

I am very well aware that my children are influenced as much by what they see and hear around them (in school, on the bus, in the neighborhood, on TV, on the radio, etc) as they are by what they see and hear from their parents. I wish it wasn't the case, but sadly, my influences must compete with a plethora of other outside (and often much less desirable) influences that bombard them on a daily basis. Fortunately for me, my kids are still at an age where we can have open and honest conversations about the things that they see and hear, where they can ask questions and receive honest, informational feedback that encourages them to look at the situation critically, and think for themselves about how they really feel. 

Its hard enough just growing up, trying to wade through all the bullshit passed along as gospel truth by your friends and on TV. Add to that the struggle of young boys trying to figure out what it means to be a "man" among all the gobbledygook out there, and its no wonder these poor boys' heads don't just explode. And then there are the young girls and young women trying to figure out what they should be valuing in the young men who cross their paths. In this day and age of technology and media, where information is disseminated so rapidly, it seems that there is no shortage of "teachable moments" that come out of the news. Pieces of information we as parents (and teachers and mentors and family members) can use to help our kids navigate the mine-field that is "growing up". And then, asshats like Mike Ditka just jack that shit all up when they open their mouths and start spewing ignorant nonsense.

This whole Miami Dolphins - Jonathan Martin - Richie Incognito thing is one giant clusterfuck. And no one, and I mean NO ONE, outside of Martin and Incognito, will ever know the truth. But honestly, what does it matter anymore? Maybe Incognito is a bully, maybe he's just an insensitive prankster, maybe he's a scapegoat. Maybe Martin is a victim, maybe he is a whistleblower, maybe he is just too sensitive. The bottom line for me is that its not any of my business, anymore than any other workplace dispute between co-workers regarding a hostile work environment in any office across America is my business. This is between Martin, Incognito, and the Dolphins. It's their mess to sort out. And any opinion I decide to have on the subject of who is right and who is wrong, is NOT going to be an informed or educated one, because I am not Martin or Incognito, and I don't know what exactly went on, and for me to try and tell anyone what they should or shouldn't have done in the situation is the worst kind of ignorance. Because it perpetuates this myth that anyone at anytime can take one tiny fraction of information and become an expert. And when a shit candle like Ditka does it, it unfortunately has the potential to negatively influence far beyond normal limits.

Ditka either doesn't realize, or doesn't care, that young boys and girls, and young men and women around the nation watch the sports shows and often idolize the personas, thoughts, and opinions of the sports heroes they see on these shows. And most of the time, the opinion of an aging ex-football player has limited reach, because his opinion on the best offense or defense, or the best player, or the best team is of minimal consequence in the grand scheme of things and in the daily lives of the young boys and girls, and young men and young women listening to him. But when you start running off at the mouth with ignorant shit you know nothing about regarding circumstances you can't possibly be informed of and making blanket judgement calls about the people involved, I'm sorry. You have just crossed the line into jack-hole ass-baggery-ness. 

Ditka stated that Martin is a baby for claiming he was bullied and that instead of doing what he did (walking away from a situation that was problematic), he should have taken Incognito to "fist city" and tried to beat him up for it. He implies that a real man would have solved the problem with a fist fight. Huh?!?!? What the fuck?!? There was a time when I didn't mind that my 2 boys were huge Chicago Bears fans and idolized all things Bears, including everything to do with the 1985 team Ditka so famously coached. Now? Oh, hell to the ever lovin' spotty bum lord slappin' NO!!!!!!!!

Would you want your 8 year old son called a baby for walking away from a bullying situation? Would you want your 8 year old son to have to resort to fist fighting to defend himself from hurtful, damaging, threatening, painful bullying? Would you want your 8 year old son or your 15 year old daughter thinking that real men solve their problems with their fists first and their intelligence last? Would you want your 15 year old daughter thinking that real men resort to violence and fist fighting to get their way, and that only wimps or babies try to resolve their differences using their brains and their words? OR, would you want your 8 year old son to escape the immediate circumstance and find a family member or other adult he could trust to confide in about his situation? Would you want your 8 year old son to get help in resolving the situation without anyone getting hurt? Would you want your 8 year old son or 15 year old daughter to know that a real man has the courage to ask for help when its needed, and isn't too proud to say "I'm hurting and I'm sad and I want this to stop"? Would you want your 15 year old daughter to value the young men in their lives who are kind, gentle, loving, supportive, and non-violent problem solvers?

I get that Martin isn't an 8 year old. I get that he is supposed to be the epitome of "toughness" because not only is he a professional football player in the NFL, he's a LINEMAN at that. But personally, I'm glad that I can hold him up as an example to my kids. See?? See that big strong tough guy?? He's a person. He's human. He has feelings just like that little old lady. And he's allowed to say when things hurt him. He's allowed to say that he's had enough and that shit ain't funny anymore. He's allowed to stand up for himself. Just because you THINK he shouldn't have to, doesn't mean that he doesn't have the right to. Just because Ditka can't wrap his peanut size concussion addled brain around the idea that Martin has the right to say enough is enough, doesn't mean that he shouldn't do just that. 

Because honestly, aren't we trying to teach our kids that fighting is wrong, and that we should be trying to solve our problems with words rather than violence? Aren't we trying to teach kids to stand up to bullying by talking to their parents, going to their teachers, sharing with their school counselors? Isn't that the message we are working our asses off to get through??? And the situation with Martin had been going on for OVER A YEAR. Um, I'm willing to bet that Martin tried to stop that shit multiple times in multiple ways over the course of that year and a half. But he reached his limit. And you know what? He walked the fuck away. THANK GOD he didn't decide to bring in a gun, and mow down the assholes who had been tormenting him, like some bullied kids in schools feel they have no choice but to do. Thank God he stood up and showed bullied kids around the nation that there IS another choice. There IS another option. And its better than resorting to the violence that crap stain lickers like Ditka want the world to resort to. Because crap stain lickers like Ditka think that a real man should solve any problem with his fists. And if he can't, well, then he must not be a real man.

I want my kids to know that Martin, the big ole tough NFL Lineman who could break you in half like plastic fork in a plate of BBQ chicken, is a real man, and he did exactly the right thing, regardless of what irrelevant raging idiot jackasses like Ditka think. He did exactly what I hope my kids would have the courage and strength of character and intelligence to do. Leave the situation. Get help. Make it stop. Resorting to "fist city" ultimately reduces your character to the lowly level of the ignorant schmuck who thinks he's all big and bad because he can call you names. But, don't get me wrong. If someone attacks you physically, defend yourself like no one's business. Absolutely. Go for the eyes and the groin. Rip that shit right off. Scream as loud as you can, and flail like a fucking windmill in the middle of a category 5 hurricane that just landed on a F5 tornado. But remember, that using physical violence to solve your problems, especially non-physical and non-violent problems, usually just creates more problems for you in the long run. And it just makes you look like an ass, like Ditka. So don't be a Dick-tka. Just don't.

Preparing My Kids

I know that everyone has their own definition of what constitutes "good parenting". We each have our own sets of goals, hopes, and dreams for our kids. While the specifics and details might be different, I think we can all probably agree that we hope our kids will be happy, healthy, and productive members of society. I could be wrong, but I haven't met anyone yet who has said they were really hoping their kid was miserably depressed, terminally ill, or living in their parent's basement at 43 smoking pot and playing video games all day long.

So basically I think we can all agree on the general all-encompassing parenting goals. However, we all have different ideas about what will be the best, most effective path toward meeting those goals. Any given day provides us with a plethora of "teachable moments". Those moments where life naturally just happens and presents us with the opportunity to impart wisdom and perspective from our own life experiences to help guide our children through life safely. On a good day, I will try to take advantage of these teachable moments. Some days, however, these teachable moments need to be prioritized and broken down into smaller, and often times more practical, moments. Like telling myself that I am preparing them for college/young adulthood, when they will be broke and hungry, so that I don't feel like shit for not preparing a hot dinner with all the food groups represented. I mean, obviously, we all set the bar higher than pizza rolls and skittles, but sometimes, when push comes to shove, there are days when "success" means making it to bedtime in one piece. Just surviving makes it a good day. And I try not to feel too shitty about myself as a parent on those days.

One of my own personal parenting goals is to prepare my kids for life as an adult. Not to make their path obstacle-free, or bump-less, or without any adversity. I think these things build character and that they will learn more about themselves by facing those obstacles and bumps in the road with the appropriate guidance from us as parents. I want my kids to think about their decisions carefully, and understand the possible repercussions of their actions. And how those repercussions can have long term effects on their personal, professional, and social lives.

I think that learning to be a good partner/spouse/roommate/boy-or-girl friend is also a huge part of preparing for life as an adult. Cuz lets be honest, if that lesson doesn't "take" its a helluva lot more likely that the kid will end up as that 43 year old in the basement. Just sayin'. While we all, as individuals, have things that we specifically look for or are attracted to, I have come to realize that there are also some "universal truths" that make anyone more appealing to others, both as friends or roommates as well as partners or spouses. 

1. Don't whine or cry to get your way. Its annoying. And people don't like to spend time with those who are annoying. That's why I make you leave the room when you whine at me. As you get older, that won't change.

2. Its not funny or cool to smell. Its annoying. And people don't like to spend time with those who are annoying and smelly. That's why I make you leave the room when you smell. As you get older, that won't change.

3. Say what you mean, and mean what you say. Don't assume that people will "know what you mean" unless you say what you mean. Laughing and running around and wrestling do NOT convey the message "Please leave me alone" or "Please get out of my room". You know what does? Saying "Please leave me alone" or "Pleases get out of my room".

4. Say what you mean and mean what you say with kindness and respect in mind. There are many different ways to convey that you aren't fond of the dinner I made. And each way will result in a different reaction from the me. So think very carefully before you speak.

5. Mean what you do and do what you mean. If you don't want to be friends with someone, then don't be. Because it will do more damage, and cause more hurt, to offer a false friendship with no intention or desire to back it up with sincere friendship-like behavior. However, you can be kind, nice, helpful, and respectful to everyone regardless of whether or not they are your friend.

6. Don't play mind games. The phrases "Well if you don't know, then I'm certainly not going to tell you" and "You should have known what I wanted/what I needed/what to do/what to say/what to buy" are a load of crap. No one is a mind reader.

7. Don't be passive-aggressive. When someone says "Please empty the dishwasher", pretending that you had no idea that the job entailed putting the dishes AWAY after stacking them on the counter insults not only the intelligence of the other person, but also paints quite a dumb-ass picture of you as well.

8. Do your share. Nothing is beneath you. Garbage, grass, pooper scooping, diaper duty, midnight feedings, laundry, vacuuming, cooking, dishes...nothing. Help out. And once in a while, you might even consider doing something WITHOUT being asked first. Oooooo. Freaky.

9. Boys: PUT THE SEAT UP. I realize this goes against the traditional mantra of "Put the seat down" but I'm fairly certain that she would rather have you put the seat up and leave it up, than spend a lifetime accidentally sitting in your pee in the middle of the night. Just sayin'. 

10. Fight fair. Emotional blackmail (if you don't do this/that, I'm going to withhold love/affection/etc) or throwing old dirt (remember when you did this really awful/mean thing?) or keeping score (you hurt me/made mistakes this many more times than I have) keep you both on opposite sides, even after the fight is over. Resolve the issue so you can get back to being on the same side.

11. Don't fart at the table, during meals, while eating, around people you've just met, in small or enclosed spaces, in front of a girl you want to get to know (BOYS), during a job interview, at a wedding, at a funeral, in the principals office, in the boss's office, when meeting future in-laws, on a date, in a car, at a restaurant, during church, in a movie theater, on anyone's head, in anyone's face, or anytime you want to be taken seriously. If you are thinking about blaming the dog, make sure the dog is at least in the same room with you when you do it. Where can you fart? The bathroom. No, farts aren't funny.

12. Learn how to apologize. And do so sincerely or don't do it at all.

13. Learn how to accept an apology. And do so sincerely or don't do it at all.

14. Learn how to give a compliment. And do it sincerely or don't do it at all.

15. Learn how to accept a compliment. And do it sincerely. Period. Because the person giving it wanted you to have it.

16. Learn how to do laundry. In its simplest form, its colors and whites. Even the color blind can tell colors from whites. Seriously.

17. Learn how to use humor. Appropriately. It can break the ice, it can bring a smile to someone's face when they are sad, it can lighten a mood, it can make people laugh, it can ease embarrassment, it can create a connection, it can do all of these things. It can also shatter feelings, cause sadness and hurt, create embarrassment, make people cry, create distance, end relationships, scar, and close doors. 

18. Crying isn't weakness. When you are injured, or upset, or hurting, or sad, its a perfectly acceptable thing to do to express that pain and sadness. Anyone who tells you otherwise is an asshole. Straight up. However, crying every five minutes over every little thing that isn't exactly the way you want it, or because you can't have every little thing you want the exact minute that you want it, is in fact a weakness. And it makes you an asshole. Straight up.

19. Know what love is. Its honesty and trust and loyalty and forgiveness. Its wanting to put someone else ahead of yourself. Its making making their wants and needs, and your wants and needs, into "our" wants and needs. Its making what the other person IS more important to you than what the other person ISN'T. Its hard work. Its an everyday commitment. 

20. Know what love isn't. Its not never getting angry or never getting hurt. It doesn't mean that you have to like everything about someone or everything they do. Love isn't perfection and fairy tale romance. Love isn't always clean and pretty and easy. But it is worth it.

There are, of course, many more equally important things to worry about but for now, my plate is full with these. I hope to get to the next set of important things to worry about before my kids are 43. And living in my basement. 

Important Life Lessons

Mr. Local Youth Football Program Director:

It is with sadness and regret that I must inform you that my husband and I are considering removing my son, Big Dude, from the Local Youth Football program. This is a difficult decision for us to make, as we have always stressed with our children the importance of following through on commitments, understanding what it means to be part of a “team”, and not quitting just because something becomes difficult. However, the safety and well being of our children must receive higher consideration than those other important life lessons. And unfortunately, it has become clear that our son’s safety and well-being are not, in fact, receiving the consideration they deserve from the LYF Varsity coaching staff.

This is the second year that my sons have been involved in LYF, and our previous experiences with this organization and its coaches has been positive and professional. We believe the LYF program is a high quality program throughout, up to and including the Junior Varsity level. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for our experience this year at the Varsity level. If there is one thing that every child playing youth sports should be able to count on and believe in 100%, it’s that their coach cares about each and every player on the team. No one player is more important. Every one matters. That doesn’t mean everyone gets the same amount of playing time, but it does mean that the coach is invested in every player, and cares about the well being of each child on his/her team. That is not happening on Big Dudes’s team.

The tone was set very early in the season, and it has been made abundantly clear to the young men playing on this team that certain players matter more than others. Some players are afforded special treatment due to their apparent talent level. While the majority of the team arrive on time for practices, and is warming up, certain players are permitted to consistently arrive late and stand around chatting with coaches during the warm up drills. And I believe the definition of “on time” would be suited up, padded up, cleated up, and ready to go at the start time, not arriving at the practice field with gear in hand at the start time.

This lack of respect and lack of commitment to the team is rewarded each week with a guarantee of playing time in the games. When those special players are overheard saying "They really suck" in reference to their own teammates, as if they themselves are not members of the team and associate themselves differently, it is clear that there is a distinct lack of respect for the other players, the organization, and the team in general. The young men who are fully dedicated to the team, who are ready to go at the start of practice, who encourage each other and try to help each other, and who bust their butts each and every day, from the first warm up drill all the way through to the final whistle, get the privilege of being told they aren’t good enough, fast enough, catching enough, blocking enough, etc. They get to see their positions handed off to the teammates who are held to a lesser behavioral standard than the rest of the team. In other words, effort doesn’t matter.  Only results. Character doesn’t matter. Only points on the scoreboard. I must seriously question the decision to allow my son to be a part of a team that has such misguided priorities.

I am not a complainer, Mr. Director. I have not come to you complaining even one time about anything that I might have disagreed with or found unpleasant in 2 years. I have made it a priority to teach my children that sometimes, you just have to tough it out and muscle through a situation that isn’t quite what you want it to be. Life isn’t fair, and the sooner you figure out a way to cope with these types of situations and the people who perpetrate them, the better off you will be. I have taken this position many times with my children and I believe that they are better off for it. However, I must draw the line when it comes to their personal safety. I must speak up when I see the adults I have entrusted with their care, safety, and well being show such blatant disregard for them as I personally witnessed this past weekend during the Varsity football.

It was clear by half time of Saturday's game that LYF was likely not going to win the game (I believe it was 23-0 at that point). The second half progressed very much like the first, and with about 5 minutes left in the game it was something like 40-6 (I could be wrong about the exact numbers for the score, but it was wildly one-sided). The team LYF was playing did not demonstrate any significant level of sportsmanship whatsoever. They continued to drive up the score and played their biggest, fastest, strongest, hardest hitters up to the final buzzer. At this point, certain select players were pulled from the game in order to prevent them from getting hurt, and some of the smallest, least experienced players were sent out onto the field to face this opposing team. They were the sacrificial lambs sent to the slaughter in order to protect the coach’s special few. I must say, if it wasn’t a safe environment for those special few, it damn well wasn’t a safe environment for the smaller, lesser experienced players. We are losing by 30+ points with 5 minutes left. They are getting the win. Why did it not occur to anyone to walk away at this point? Inform the refs that it is no longer safe for your players to continue, and in the best interests of your team’s health and safety, the opposing team can have the win? Why is it only important to protect the health and safety of a handful of players? Why isn’t the health of my son not equally important? Because he isn’t as talented? Because he doesn’t run as fast? Because he isn’t as good a player? Shame on you. Shame on all of you.

With 4 minutes left in the game, my son was injured. A tackle was made in front of him and the pile landed on the front of his legs, hyper-extending his right knee and causing him to fall backwards. He stood up and limped back to the huddle. He tried repeatedly to “walk it off” but was very obviously struggling. The ref was the only adult who acknowledged his injury and stopped play long enough for him to limp slowly to the sidelines and obtain a substitution. No one offered him an arm, not even when he nearly fell to his knees near the sideline. No one helped him to the bench. No one looked at him to see if his injury was serious. Not one single coach on that team indicated to my son that he was worth the time of day. Instead, he was told to go down to the team moms, and have them look at him. It just so happens that the team moms in question were 40 yards down the sidelines through a massive mud pit. Big Dude limped and hobbled that entire 40 yards by himself. Not a single responsible adult offered to help him, or asked him how he had gotten hurt or what was wrong. Not a single one. The team moms gave him some ice for his knee, but the care of injured players is not a Team Mom duty. These players are the responsibility of the coaches. And those coaches made it perfectly clear to my son that he did NOT matter to them, even when he was hurt. I guess my son should have been a better football player, because then he would have mattered enough to get their attention. Instead, an email arrived 24 hours after the fact to check on him and indicating that the coach had been informed of the injury, not that the coach had been paying attention to him enough to notice for himself. 

I watched all of this from the press box, where I was fulfilling one of my parental volunteer obligations, and had a very clear view of this entire episode as it transpired. I watched my son limp through the line after the game, limp to the end zone for the post-game chat by the coaches, and limp across the field to the stands after it was all over. In all this time, not a single coach acknowledged that he was injured, let alone asked him how he was or offered him any assistance. Instead, he got the privilege of being informed in the post-game huddle that they had given up, and that they didn’t have enough heart. I would have to say I disagree.

I would have to say that those boys who STAYED on the field in the face of such obvious risk to personal safety were the ones who showed the MOST heart. When they were sent onto the field to face that opponent, so that a select few could sit safely protected on the sideline, I must say I think they showed more heart than anyone else I know, including the adults who put them in that position. And they didn’t give up. They didn’t accept the invitation to sit out on the sidelines where it was safe. They didn’t tell their coach “Hell no!!” when they were sent out there. They bucked up and went out there and did the very best they could in the face of insurmountable odds. They didn’t take a knee just to get it over with, although I must say I think that would have been the smartest and most responsible thing to do. Instead, they kept trying over and over again to make plays, only to get battered back, repeatedly. They never stopped trying to get that ever-elusive first down. And the thanks those kids got from the coach that put them there? They were informed they gave up and didn’t have heart. Shame on you. Shame on all of you.

After a trip to the Emergency Room Saturday night after the game, we will be following up with an orthopedist this week to determine the extent of my son’s injury. If and when he receives medical clearance to return to football, we will make the decision at that time as to whether or not this will happen. This decision will depend on the actions taken by the administration to address these issues and ensure the safety and well being of EVERY player in the program. 

Sincerely,

Me

The REAL reason for the state of the world today....

In this day and age, it is damn near impossible to only watch, listen to, or read "real news". It used to be that if you tuned in to the News (which for me was either ABC, NBC, or CBS since we lived so far out in the middle of nowhere we didn't have the option of cable), you knew you were going to get the hard stuff. The real stuff. The stuff that actually informed you about serious matters around the country and around the world. The stuff that made you a better and smarter person for knowing it. The stuff that could even help you in school once in a while. The stuff that we as kids found boring but that we as adults tend to wish there was more of. And there was Extra, ET, Inside Edition, or some other such crap news knock-off show for the other stupid stuff.

I try really hard to avoid the stupid news. Because its stupid. And I can't help but worry that I am going to get stupider every time I inadvertently learn something about Honey Boo Boo, or which professional athlete has now been caught lying about using PED's, or what the hell twerking is. And by the way, it doesn't need its own name. If you DO need to give it a name, twerking is no where near as accurate as "I plan on becoming one of your baby mamas by the end of this dance and you won't even have to buy me dinner first". I digress.

I don't like feeling stupid after watching or reading the news. And its incredibly frustrating to seek out knowledge and information - because I was always taught that it is always a good thing to go into the world armed with knowledge, because knowledge is power - only to find myself surrounded by stupidity. 

And I can't help but feel like we can attribute the decline of American society as a whole (its overall stupidification in general) to the increasing stupidity of our "news", because after all, we get our news from what's actually going on in our society, what is important to our society. Actually I don't think its the news itself that is getting stupid. I think its what people are doing IN the news that is becoming increasingly stupid. I can't help but wonder if the reporters would be reporting on stories of people doing smart things and using common sense (like NOT taking assault rifles that were obtained illegally and shooting up a crowd of innocent people trying to watch a neighborhood basketball game at their local park) if there were more people actually fucking DOING smart things and using common sense. 

I know there are actually a plethora of things to blame for the overall decline of our society, and everyone has their favorite hot topic to reference for it ... taking "Christ" out of Christmas, taking God and Jesus out of our schools, violent video games, drugs, the crappy state of our education system and what it says about our whacked out educational priorities, technology taking over our lives, kids who don't play outside anymore...you name it. There are a SHIT TON of reasons society is going to hell in a hand basket. But I truly believe that it is for one simple reason.

Common sense is gone. Its no longer a priority. And we are raising an entire generation of kids who, lets be honest, don't fucking need any common sense. Why?? Because no matter WHAT they do, they aren't responsible. They had a good reason or valid excuse to do whatever stupid thing they got caught doing. They are a victim of someone else who is completely to blame for their situation. Blame the parents, blame the teachers, blame the victim for pressing charges, blame the witnesses for being "rats", blame the coffee for having the nerve to be hot, blame blame blame blame blame. And this lack of complete common sense has permeated so many areas of our lives that it has become newsworthy. It used to be that when someone was a dumb ass and did something totally stupid, they were just an idiot. Now, they get their own TV Reality show, become a celebrity, and make millions. 2 words for you - Kim. Kardashian. I rest my case.

What qualifies as news now is really just stories of people being stupid or doing stupid things or being the victim of someone's stupidity. As Jon Stewart points out in the clip linked below, this level of non-common-sense-stupidity is even starting to effect those who deliver the news to us!  http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-september-17-2013/wrongnado---cnn

Here are some things I've heard or read in the "news" recently that have confirmed my worst fears about a complete lack of common sense in our society and the overall stupidification of people in general.....

1. When you have people who are willing to stand in line for 2 days just to get the newest upgrade in unnecessary technology, because the phone they waited in line for 3 days to get 9 months ago must be terribly, terribly out of date, and THEN pay ridiculously outrageous prices just to be able to say they own a newer version, common sense is on vacation and people are stupid. How bad can the state of our economy actually be? These people obviously don't have jobs, and don't NEED jobs, since they have asshat loads of money to spend on a phone that is 6 months newer than the one they spent asshat loads of money on less than a year ago. Stupidification. 
http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/09/20/20597661-iphone-fans-line-up-around-the-world-again-this-time-with-a-golden-eye?lite&ocid=msnhp&pos=2

2. When there are kids who break into a home when the owner isn't there, throw a huge raging party, vandalize and destroy the property as well as steal from the home, take PICTURES of themselves doing this, POST these pictures all over social media, act shocked and amazed that the owner of the house re-posted these pictures along with pictures he took of the damage himself, and then their parents threaten to SUE the homeowner for re-posting the pictures that THEIR kids took while doing something ILL-FUCKING-LEGAL, something is SERIOUSLY stupidified in our world!!! Seriously!!
http://msn.foxsports.com/nfl/story/ex-nfl-player-brian-holloway-threatened-with-lawsuits-for-posting-pictures-of-alleged-vandals-092013
And here is where the cycle perpetuates, because these parents are rewarding stupidity. They are not only saying "we don't care that you were stupid", they are saying "you have a God given right to lack all common sense, and be stupid, and do stupid things, and it is the responsibility of others to take care of you in your stupidity". It just hurts my head to think about.

3. A woman put the lid on the ketchup too tightly. Her husband didn't like it. She's now dead. Nuf said. 
http://xfinity.comcast.net/articles/news-national/20130920/wife.slain.ketchup.lid/

Stupid scares me. Because you can't reason with stupid. You can't explain to stupid the error of its ways. And you can't fix stupid. The best you can hope for is to control and contain the damage done by stupid. Its like being the parent of a toddler. You can't make the toddler NOT be a toddler. The toddler is going to do all of the awful, annoying, painful, God-for-saken things that toddlers do that make parents cry themselves to sleep in a drunken stupor for about 3 years straight. That is the nature of the toddler beast. That is why you see frazzled parents of toddlers everywhere who haven't showered in a week trailing after their youngsters with their arms spread wide like they are chasing after a flock of chickens. Control and contain the damage. Thats the best they can hope for. Because if they do that, they make it one more day. They survive to face the next one. "Blood. Is there blood? There's no blood? Ok then we are good." Can't tell you the number of times I've said that, and my kids are far from toddlers. 

So my hope is that we can all survive another day of stupid. That we can control and contain the damage done by the perpetrators of stupidity with as few casualties as possible. And maybe.....JUST maybe.....there will be some people who can actually LEARN something from the stupidification of others and decide they want better for themselves. And hopefully these people will go on a personal quest for common sense. And maybe, when they find this ever illusive common sense we have heard so much about but have never actually witnessed ourselves, they can even start to share it with others, since there is obviously such a hugely common-sense-lacking population out there. It wouldn't be hard to do. I'm thinking sharing common sense with the "needy" could be done as easily as we share assault weapons with felons. We'll just put common sense in a van at the end of a dark alley and tell people its against the law to have it. 

A Team Is Only As Good As Its Coach

One of my favorite movies of all time is "Miracle". Its about the US Olympic Hockey team that defied all odds to win Olympic Gold when no one, including experts from the US, believed they had a shot in hell. The basic premise of the movie is that the most talented group of individuals can be beat by a less talented team. Talent is only one piece of the puzzle. If you can't get the individuals to see themselves as part of something bigger than themselves, the talent itself becomes useless. Teams with less talent who work together and understand each other and play as a team can beat "talent" any day of the week.

It takes a special gift to coach. Surprise, surprise - it takes more than talent or knowledge. Just because you played football and were a superstar in college and know all the stats and formations and plays in the world, that doesn't just automatically morph into being a good coach. Because often times, being a good coach starts with things that have NOT A DAMN THING to do with stats and formations and play books. It starts with fundamentals.

Fundamentals that are universal regardless of the sport you are playing. Fundamentals that are the building blocks of both individual talent AND team work. Fundamentals that will determine exactly what kind of player you want to be. Showing up for practice ON TIME. Giving 110% EVERY play, even when you are losing 22-0 in the 4th quarter or the 9th inning or the 3rd period or the 3rd match/set or the 18th hole or the second half. Being held accountable for your actions CONSISTENTLY regardless of whether you are a star starter or a 3rd string. These are some pretty important fundamentals. And kids don't just pick this stuff up. Its coached. Its taught. Its drilled into them day after day after day after day in practice. These details have to be balanced with the plays and the stats and the formations. 

Because if you want your team to implement the plays seamlessly, they have to know what they are doing. And in order to know what they are doing, they have to be focused at practice. And in order to be focused at practice, they have to be there ON TIME and working and not slacking off because its hot and they are tired. Guess what? EVERYONE is hot and tired. Get the fuck over it.

Here is the first thing I think every good coach should tell his/her team on day one. Doesn't matter what age. When you are playing a team sport, you need to clearly understand that it is now about the team. NOT you. Rule #1: You are not special. Nope. Sorry to disappoint you. If you want to be special and receive special treatment and be made to feel like you are a superstar who can do no wrong, go play with your mom and dad in the backyard. Or play a non-team sport, like golf or karate, where you are in it just for you and you alone. Because on a successful team, no one individual is more important or special than anyone else. You are part of something bigger than you. You are just a small piece of the over all puzzle.

That means that the most talented individual is held to the same standard as the least talented 3rd stringer. I don't care who you are, you stroll in late to practice, or to warm ups before a game, or to a team meeting, or you don't show up at all? You don't fucking play! You sit your ass on the bench, and someone who believes in the team enough to put the team's needs ahead of his own desires will be on that field, even if that means we lose the damn game. You want to spend your practice chatting it up with the coaches and your friends, not drilling and running the plays? You don't fucking play. You sit your ass on the bench, and someone who has been busting his ass learning the playbook and practicing the routes and memorizing what his job is for every formation will be on that field, even if it means we lose the damn game. You want to give up because that play didn't go your way, or your team is losing the game, and you don't want to hustle and have heart and you don't want to give every play every single thing you've got? You don't fucking play. You sit your ass on the bench, and someone who NEVER gives up and who hustles on that field no matter how futile it might seem will be on that field, even if it means we lose the damn game.

And you know what? If you are a coach and you can't be bothered to show up for practices, and you can't be bothered to show up on time for warm ups before a game or for practice, and you can't be bothered to pay attention to what is going on with your team on the field because you are too busy chatting and laughing with your buddies on the sideline? You shouldn't get to fucking coach!! And you sure as hell shouldn't have the right to tell kids who have been to more practices than YOU that they aren't working hard enough, trying hard enough, or playing good enough. Because contrary to what you told them, THEY are not the ones out there embarrassing themselves. They are following the tone for the team that YOU have set. Before you point the finger at anyone on that field, you need to take a good, long, hard look at what YOU are doing, how YOU are behaving, and if YOUR actions hold water next to the expectations and standards you put up for the team.

If you want a team that hustles on and off the field, you need to expect that from them EVERY play in EVERY practice. And when the don't deliver, there needs to be a consequence for it that is doled out to EVERY player who fails to deliver, rather than turning a blind eye to the slacking by your "superstars". If you want players that know what their jobs are on the field in any given situation, you need to expect them to know that by expecting them to be at practice ON TIME, EVERY time. They need to be at team meetings and pre-game warm ups ON TIME, EVERY time. They need to be paying attention at those team meetings and pre-game warm ups and practices, not wandering off chatting with friends or buddies or coaches. And they need to be held accountable when they do these things, instead of turning a blind eye because they are your "superstars". 

And most importantly, YOU need to do these things! YOU need to be a goddamn leader! YOU need to show them what is important by DOING it yourself. YOU need to be at practices ON TIME. YOU need to be at team meetings and pre-game warms ups ON TIME. YOU need to be focused on the team, the practice, and/or the game during team meetings and warm-ups and post-game chats and practices, not wandering off because you have better things to do. You can't be shocked and amazed that your players are doing exactly the same thing you are doing. Because they are. And surprise, surprise, they aren't winning.

And contrary to popular belief, winning is about a SHIT LOAD more than just points on the board. Its about your heart and your soul and your passion and your hard work and who you are inside. Not how well you can throw a ball, or catch a ball, or how fast you can run, or how often you can score a goal, or how many saves you can make, or strikes you can throw, or touchdowns you can make. You have to become the player you want to be on the INSIDE in order to have something to show for it on the outside. And if you don't start on the inside, you will have nothing to show for it. No points. No goals. No runs. No touchdowns. No wins. And frankly, I'd much rather have my kid come home with no wins, but with a coach that teaches what's really important, instead of a kid who comes home with a win every week but who never learns what it means to be a part of a team. Who never learns how to take pride in his play, regardless of the score at the end of the game. I want a kid who learns what it means to have heart and soul no matter what the outcome. That is what REAL coach does. 

I've had a few real coaches in my time. And my kids have had some real coaches too. These are the ones that have had the long-term impact, the ones that they remember years later when they relive an important life lesson. The other coaches come and go. With any luck, they will have an impact that lasts no longer than that particular sports season. And hopefully, it is the lessons they learned from the real coaches that came before that will carry them through the experience, and allow them to come out the other side stronger and better for it.

Explanations are NOT apologies

We all make mistakes. There isn't a single person out there who hasn't at one time or another done something or said something that, in hindsight, probably shouldn't have been done or said. Many of the mistakes we make happen when we are kids. Because that is just what kids do. Screw up. Make mistakes. Do the exact wrong thing. As a parent it is not only our hope, but also our responsibility, to help kids understand how to handle their mistakes appropriately. Saying I'm sorry = good choice. Screaming and throwing your body on the floor, flailing about wildly like a sunfish in the bottom of a rowboat, hysterically declaring that its not fair for you to get in trouble because you didn't mean it and it wasn't on purpose = poor choice. 

I think its a safe assumption that most, if not all, kids learn the difference between good choices and poor choices from the adults around them. As adults we can use words to help get this message across, by talking about choices and using teachable moments to reflect on what might have been a better choice in the moment. We can refer to other people's actions as examples of either what to do or what not to do. But I think the most powerful way we help kids is by example. I can talk until I'm blue in the face but my words mean next to nothing if the kids in my life don't see me following those words up with corresponding actions. The whole "do as I say, not as I do" is a crock of shit, and everyone who has ever been told this as a kid knows it. A hundred positive words can be undone by one negative or unkind action. So no matter how many times we tell kids what they should do in a given situation, and what a good choice would be, all it takes is one example of that same adult doing the opposite to erase any memory of the "good choice lessons". Its like kids are Jenga. Stack up all the good ideas, positive interactions, praise, and lessons about appropriate behavior that you can find. All it takes is that one time - that one negative pot-shot, that one time we set a poor example with our actions, that one name called, that single instance where we inadvertently show them through our actions that it is worth it to go with a bad choice - and the tower comes falling down. And we are left at square one. Starting over. Trying to rebuild all the positive progress that has just been undone in that one single regrettable moment.

As parents, I think we all strive to set positive examples for our kids in every way possible. We show them how to treat others by how WE treat others. We show them how to talk to others by how WE talk to others. We show them how to handle their frustrations by how WE handle our frustrations. We show them how to celebrate by how WE celebrate. We show them how to love by how WE love. We can also hope that the other important people in our children's lives understand this same concept and follow it. Because kids are influenced and taught about these important life lessons by more than just their parents. They have teachers, coaches, parents of friends, adult relatives, television, movies, video games, books, peers, siblings....the list goes on and on and on. Some of these influences we, as parents, have some control over. I can control what my kids see on TV, or in movies, or what video games (if any) they play, or what books they read. When they are younger, I can have some influence over who their friends are, or at least who they play with at MY house. However, I can not control how other people choose to behave around them. I can only hope and pray that when other people are around my kids, they want to do the right thing and behave the right way and set the right example for them.

But I'm a realist. I know that sometimes, mistakes happen. Examples get set that we wish hadn't. Things get royally screwed up. Ironically, this is the most important opportunity we have. Especially if you are the screwer-upper. This is when you get to demonstrate how to accept responsibility for your screw up. And the biggest part of accepting responsibility is being able to say I'm sorry. Not providing a play by play of how it happened or explaining why you did what you did. Just simply, I'm sorry. Because explaining "how" or "why" you made the choice you did is NOT accepting responsibility for "what" you did. Sure, it helps me understand your intentions, but it doesn't change anything. Explaining that you didn't mean to hit your brother in the head with a rock, and describing how it happened, doesn't change the fact that I am taking him to the hospital for stitches. Saying that it wasn't your intention spray Febreze in your brother's eyes, because you weren't aiming for them, doesn't change the fact that he has Febreze in his eyes and can't see right now. Saying you didn't mean to break my favorite vase when you were touching something you were not supposed to be touching doesn't put the vase back together. Saying I didn't mean to eat all the Oreos in one sitting, but that I'm pms-ing like a crazy person and we are all out of wine and potato chips, doesn't put the Oreos back in the box. Capisce? So sometimes the most important thing, the most valuable part is unfortunately what seems to be the hardest part - the simple I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're hurting. I'm sorry if what I said or did caused you pain or discomfort or distress. And regardless of my intentions, I recognize that you are hurting as a result of my actions and I'm sorry for that. 

If there were more adults who could say these words to kids, there might be more kids who know how to say that to each other. There might be more kids taking responsibility for their own actions because they see its not a WEAKNESS or CHARACTER FLAW to say I made a mistake and did/said something that I shouldn't have. If we as adults act like it is a weakness or a character flaw, so will kids. And so perpetuates the cycle. I hope my kids learn this overall lesson from me by example. By watching me and hearing me say I'm sorry, I screwed up, I shouldn't have done that or said that or behaved that way. I know I'm not perfect but by and large, I hope they see that sometimes being the bigger person means saying I'm sorry, even if you didn't mean to do whatever it is that was done. I also hope that the other adults they encounter will be able to do the same thing. Because there is nothing sadder or more pathetic than an adult who is caught in a mistake but can't admit it. Who can't take responsibility. Who can't simply say I'm sorry.

Observations from another fun trip to Walmart....

You do it on purpose, don't you? I'm convinced of it. You must. And I know why. I'm on to you. And if you think that I'm not passive-aggressive enough in my psychosis to keep coming back JUST to keep provoking your attempts at sabotage, you are even more deludedly naive than I thought. I'll keep coming. You can keep trying to annoy me. But I guarandamntee that I can out crazy you. I might even arrange my schedule in such a way that I can come back EVERY motherlovin' DAY. How does that sound, crappy-Walmart-grocery-bagging-lady?!?! 

I understand that me and my cloth grocery bags are annoying and inconvenient for you. Instead of being able to mindlessly throw my groceries into those plastic bags conveniently located on your little spinny wheel, you have to set the bag up and, in THEORY, pay attention to the things you are putting in there. And this takes up more time. It holds up your line. It means people have to wait a bit longer for their turn to stand under your blank stare and watch you throw a jar of spaghetti sauce on top of their eggs and bread. I'm sorry. Really I am. And I show it by offering to help in whatever way I can. Setting the bags up for you on the hooky things on your spinny wheel. Removing the bags as soon as they are full and replacing it with an empty one. I will even lift heavy stuff up on occasion so you don't have to be inconvenienced further by having to walk ALL THE WAY around to my cart with your scanney gun. I say "on occasion" because I have a problem with you giving me attitude and expecting me to do this when your scanney gun is detached from your register to make it easier for you to use it in JUST such a situation. But I digress.....

I don't like inconveniencing you like that. And I normally don't even do any grocery shopping here. But YOUR STORE sells these bags. In fact, my bags were purchased at Walmart. So if you don't like having to deal with customers and their cloth grocery bags, perhaps - JUST perhaps - you should inform YOUR employer that they should quit providing these nuisances to the shopping public. 

I would also like you to consider the alternative to my annoying cloth bags ... your shitty plastic bags. The ones you can't even get off of your little spinny thing without half of the handles ripping. If YOU can't use them without breaking them, how exactly is it that you think I should be expected to get $150 worth of groceries off your spinny thing, into my cart, loaded into my car, and carried into my house, ALL without losing at least $75 in groceries splattered on the floor at your store entrance, throughout your parking lot, and all over my driveway?? That's right. You can't. 

And don't try to lie to me. You know they are shitty. Don't even TRY it. I'm not stupid. I see what you are doing. Why else would you put only 3 items MAX in each bag? Which results in me having approximately 37 bags of groceries to carry in? And over half of them with a rip forming in the bottom corner, or one (or both) of the handles already ripped? Because they are shitty. And we BOTH know it.

So with all of this information in mind, I am 100% sure you could be less obvious in your frustration and disdain for my cloth bags. Subtlety ain't your strong suit, is it? When you pretend it makes sense to lay a jar on its side in the bottom and then act like its a good idea to try and balance my yogurt 4-packs on top of it, all with a 3 lb bag of sugar on the top, you lose your advantage. I see your passive aggressive. And I raise you one OCD petty vindictive bitch with a penchant for being willing to waste more of my own time as long as I know it will further inconvenience the ass hat who is currently making my life difficult.

Oh yes. Yes I will. I will stand here and rearrange my bags. Right here in your line. I will NOT attempt to balance my grocery bags in my cart, or my car, or on my kitchen counter like a Jenga game being played on a table covered in marbles. Because if I'm going to clean up an exploded butter container, I'll be damned if I'm going to do it because of YOUR lazy ass. Its going to be because of my OWN lazy ass minions. The ones who will then get a "learning experience" regarding how difficult it is to clean exploded butter off of.....well, anything. Because trying to balance shit that is square or flat on top of things that are round DOESN'T work. As evidenced by the gallon of milk that slipped out of your one hand and splattered all over the floor as you tried to balance my grocery bag on the counter with your other hand. The bag in which you placed a cereal box on its side on TOP of some bagels and jars of salsa (on their sides, naturally) all balanced precariously on a bag of frozen chicken at the very bottom of the bag. 

I'm willing to play if you want to. I'm a stay at home mom who doesn't "get out" much and has to find her fun wherever and whenever she can. And if you want to taunt me with your bullshit grocery bag packing, I'm your huckleberry (random Doc Holliday quote from Tombstone...) I will seek you out. I will make sure its YOUR line I go to, even if its the longest one in the store. I will come more often, making sure you have to deal with me and my annoying cloth bags on a sickeningly regular basis. And I can do all of this with a cranky 6 year old in tow. One who has just been informed that not ONLY will I NOT buy her a new princess anything, I will have also just cancelled our previously scheduled happy meal run. Don't worry about her, though. After her glorious performance in your checkout line where she convinces everyone within the store that she is physically dying AND has the most cruel and torturous mother on the planet, she will be duly rewarded. But not before wreaking havoc on your day, your eardrums, and your full day's supply of patience. And I am just the crazy bitch to do it too. 

So go ahead and test me. I dare you. See you tomorrow.

Trying to control the Control Freak in me...

Most people who know me well know that I can be a bit of a control freak. Not about everything.  For example, I am NOT a "helicopter parent". I want my kids to grow up, learn from their mistakes, and become independent and successful, productive adults. I don't need for them to wear coordinating outfits for family pictures. Hell, I've given up trying to make them wear clothes that match for school or church. I have enough trouble making sure whatever the hell they put on their bodies is clean and not pulled out of a stinky pile of questionable cloth items found deep in the darkest recesses of their closets. I also don't think I'm any more of a control freak than anyone else when it comes to my marriage. He was gone for long stretches for his job and I never had any clingy or jealous issues with him being gone and me being left home alone with the kids. And I think most of our decisions are pretty fairly split with give and take. You know, picking your battles and such. And anyone who has ever been a guest in my house knows without a doubt that I am not a control freak about cleaning. 

For me, its the odd and bizarre little things that will send my OCD over the edge and wreck havoc on my poor family. Things like loading the dishwasher, folding the laundry, putting groceries away, packing the car before a road trip, or making the bed. I can not stand the way anyone in this house loads the dishwasher. Its not their fault. I know that I should be grateful that the chore is getting done. One less thing that I have to do, right? But I hate - HATE - that the bowls aren't being placed in line on the little bowl-wickets on the top shelf. And I hate - HATE - when the plates and large items are set in the bottom all willy-nilly instead of in neat and organized rows. So instead of complaining and making people feel bad for trying to help, I go back later and re-do it. I can't help it. It really bothers me that much. I've also been known to take a basket of laundry that someone else "helped" fold up to my room so that I could completely re-fold it the way I want it. Which I recognize is completely insane since once it makes its way into the kids' rooms, it becomes wadded up and stuffed into the back corner of a drawer and all of my "neat and folded" efforts are in vain. But when it comes to chores around the house, I know my kids need to learn about responsibility and helping out so I stand by silently, watching and gritting my teeth, until they have all gone out to play and I can re-do it. Sick and sad. I know. Fortunately, when it comes to things like groceries and car packing, my husband has been willing to step out and just let me do it. Its not that I find these activities particularly enjoyable, but the tension and stress I feel having to watch someone else do it in a way that doesn't seem logical, organized, or orderly to me is worse for me than just doing the task myself. Luckily, he gets my weirdness and loves me anyway. And really, what man would fight me on this and say "No, honey, I really REALLY insist on doing all the groceries. I'm sorry it bothers you but I will be doing it all myself anyway."? I'm sure that to him its clearly a win-win.

But I've learned to live with my control issues and for the most part they don't seem to interfere with my daily life. Having kids will do that for you. All in one fell swoop, you lose control of EVERYTHING...how much you sleep, how often you talk to your friends (conversations interspersed with mediations of kids' fighting or accident prevention lectures aren't really conducive to maintaining conversational flow), how often you get to shower, what you eat or when(a baby with a temperature and diarrhea for 3 days can seriously interfere with regularly scheduled meal times), how often you get out of the house, whether your house is clean enough for company - EVER -, or when you might get to take a poop unobserved. By kid number 3, many of these issues have been resolved by  either the kids getting older (I don't care what you think you heard in your closet! Get your ass back in bed until your clock has a number on it that starts with a 7 or so help me God, you will be IN your closet WITH whatever it is that you think you heard!), or by the kids getting trained (What the fuck does the closed door mean?!?!?! We've been over this and over this! If the door is closed, it means don't fucking come in!! Jesus, Mary and Joseph I just want to pee in private! Why is that too goddamn much to ask in this house?!?)  And I consider the state of my home's cleanliness (or lack thereof) to be a very solid Friendship Screening Tool. If it bothers you that my house isn't perfectly put together and completely sterile, you and I were DEFinately not meant to be friends, thank you anyway. 

Living with these control issues becomes a lot harder, however, when you throw a phobia into the mix. Because the phobia is completely out of my control. I hate that I can't control it. I hate that I can't talk myself out of it, or just explain to myself logically and sensibly that there really is nothing to be scared of. Believe me I have tried. And when I am not in the situation that triggers the phobia, I almost start believing that I have succeeded. I have convinced my children not to be afraid and take on my fear just because I have it. And I can read up on the subject and explain to myself that my fear is irrational and not really even based in fact. But all that goes right out the window the minute I see a snake. It really is a physical reaction for me - the instant heart rate increase, the sweaty palms, the fight or flight (which for me is ALWAYS flight!) instinct, the crying, the hyperventilating. Its embarrassing. I hate having people see me react like that. Thank God it hasn't happened in "public" much at all but having my oldest son see me fall apart like that is really humiliating, even if it isn't around anyone else where it might embarrass him. This combined with my NEED to get control back from the snakes of the world has set me on a mission to NOT be phobic anymore. 

Its important to recognize both the difference between fear and phobia, as well as a realistic expectation for an outcome. I know that with a phobia like mine (one that can send me into my closet in the fetal position crying and hyperventilating) it would be unrealistic to believe that it could just go away, at least not without years and years of work as well as thousands of dollars that I don't have spent on expensive therapies. I think an appropriate goal would be to become merely afraid. Just your standard run of the mill run-to-the-other-side-of-the-yard-squealing-like-a-girl-saying-get-it-away-from-me-while-squeezing-my-eyes-closed-and-flapping-my-arms-like-superman-trying-to-fly-with-a-kryptonite-belt kind of afraid, instead of the current oh-my-god-is-that-a-snake-followed-by-complete-loss-of-control-of-most-if-not-all-bodily-functions-and-fluid-coming-out-of-every-facial-oriface-while-hyperventilating-and-running-blindly-in-the-opposite-direction-until-I-find-a-dark-place-in-which-to-curl-up-in-the-fetal-position-and-sob-uncontrollably kind of afraid. 

I have a neighbor down the street who has snakes and who has agreed to work with me. Neither of us is a therapist (or actually even knows what the hell we are doing), but it makes me feel like I am at least trying to re-gain control. And what is even more amazing is I think - THINK - it might actually be working a little bit. I've worked my way up to sitting in a room in his house talking to him while a baby snake sits in a locked clear plastic bin on the other side of the room. Without running out of the room or having a complete hysterical melt down. Of course I worked up to this. The first course of action was being willing to go in his house at all, knowing the snakes were in his basement. We have gradually worked up from there. And I was recently able to attend a neighborhood gathering in a park knowing  that he and his snakes would be there (he's popular with the kids in the hood who like to hold them and see them at this type of party). I wasn't planning on going to this thing until he started working with me because I was afraid I'd humiliate myself or my family, should I accidentally look in the wrong direction and see a snake from a distance or God forbid, actually have a kid walk by with one in his hands! 

So I guess I would say that its a good thing I'm a control freak. Otherwise I might be willing to just live with this phobia and continue to let it take control of me every time a snake crosses my path. I haven't seen a snake "in the wild" so-to-speak since I have started this course of action, so technically it remains to be seen how truly effective it might be. But I feel like I'm doing something, which gives me the illusion of control. And for a control freak like me, even the illusion of control is better than openly having to acknowledge a complete lack of control. So HAHA on YOU, 5 foot ball python that lives next door! I will still want to chop you into little pieces with an axe until the day that I die, but I will no longer let you send me to my closet. I'm taking my closet back! It is now reserved for hiding my chocolate stash, and providing me with a place to go hide when I need 20 fucking minutes to myself.

Bite me, Mother Nature.

I remember being a kid and getting more and more excited as the school year drew to a close. Sitting in class daydreaming of all the fun I was going to have with my friends, running amok in our neighborhood day after day, playing barefoot in the sun, swimming until I was pruned, standard "kid summer fare" shenanigans. Even now as an adult, I get a little bit giddy on my kids behalf as the school year winds down and the anticipation of summer fun builds. Especially as they have gotten older and have earned a bit more freedom. Summer hanging out with friends without parental units looming over your shoulder = awesome fun and amazing summer memories. 

Unless its raining. And you are trapped inside. With your parents. And your siblings. Without your friends. Who are trapped inside their respective houses with their parents and siblings. For days on end. Oh. My. God.

School has been out for a week and a half and we have had a total of 2.5 days of sun since then. And I get that it doesn't have to be sunny in order to play outside with friends. But it seems like its been only extremes so far. Either its a nice day or its donkey sucking crappy. If the sun's not out, its pouring rain. And in the spirit of maintaining what little degree of sanity I have left, the shorties have even gone outside to play in some of this inclement weather. Running in the sprinkler? Playing with the hose? Swimming? Yeah? Then consider this rain a free opportunity for the same without having to set up the sprinkler, unroll the hose, or walk to the lake. 

But even that only lasts so long. So then we resort to the standard fall back position.... electronics. Perfect rainy day entertainment, especially since these toys are usually reserved in this house only for rainy day situations. So getting to play the PS3 a lot has been a treat. Until they have played it so much in the last week due to constant rain that they are now even bored with THAT. Now what???? Never fear! The local video rental place has a deal for a free video rental coupon for every A on your kid's report card! Woo hoo!! And with the A's these kids raked in this year, we should be sailing on easy street. Right? Let's just say there is a reason video rental places are becoming extinct. My kids are 12 and 10. They do not want to see movies from the 80's. And when all the newest movies (and I use the term "new" veeeeeeeery loosely) aren't eligible for this coupon promotion, I see how this place can get away with this promo without losing money. You want 6 coupons for free movies? Sure. No worries. I'll just make sure you will have no friggin' interest in ANY of the movies that are eligible for the "free"ness. You want a movie that came out within the last 10 years? Well that will be an additional charge. And you want it for more than 6 hours? That will be an additional charge too. But wait!! Our video games are eligible for this deal as well!! Look, we have pet shop, and my little pony, and lego games. Oh, you wanted a sports game? That will be...I know! I know! an extra friggin' charge. Sonofa.........

So now I am listening to my 3 kids fight over pillows (we have 9 between the family room and the futon in the basement...), blankets (we have 5 upstairs in the family room and more in the basement), and seating (we have a 3 person couch and a 2 person love seat) in order to watch crap on TV that none of them are actually even all that interested in. And yes, the shortest person must insist on stretching out lengthwise on the longest couch, using the most pillows and refusing to share her blanket. So the bargaining begins. Fine you can do that but then we (older brothers) get to turn off Sophia the First and watch something we like. Ok fine then here is a pillow and I'll move my feet 8 centimeters to the left but we are NOT changing the channel. Its going to be a great day. I can just tell.

So Mother Nature can suck it. I got it. You made your point. You are all powerful and you can put the kibosh on all the wonderful summer plans of all the little kiddies in all the land for as long as you want to. We are all at the mercy of your whims. I understand completely. But I implore you. I beg you, please for the love of all things good, right and holy, take your goddamn meds today. Get off the "I'm fucking miserable so I am going to make damn sure everyone else is too" bandwagon and let the kids get out of the fucking house today. For the love of god, woman! Tap into just one ever lovin' ounce of that maternal instinct that mothers are supposed to have and cut the damn kids a break. And how about having a bitch's back as well, hun?? Chicks should be looking out for each other, not sitting back with a cocktail laughing in the face of another's distress and her cranky minions. Come on, hook a sistah up with a little sunshine today forchrisake.