Holding My Own
Filed under: Fantasy Football, Mental Strain for Mama
I can't seem to get my life organized these days. We just have entirely too much going on around here. With after school activities four days a week, Saturday swim classes and enough grading to literally bury me for months, I am not managing well. Last night, I had every intention of getting in to train at the dojo and then Big I walked in the house wearing her muddy sneakers and wrecked the kitchen floor. I couldn't leave it; I have white carpet in the rest of the house. I had no choice but to mop and then my mop broke and I had to go get a new part to finish the job. By the time I was done, karate was starting. I had missed my chance.
Because I'm not finding much time for physical fitness or karate, I quit the gym yesterday. Well, I should say that I mailed my notice that I'm quitting and I'll probably have to reincarnate Johnny Cochran to get me out of my membership. I've heard they're a pain like that. Instead of paying all this money to go there, be harassed by trainers and have my kid get sick all the time from the Germ Zone, I went to Dick's, bought a step and decided I have enough equipment at home to do my workouts. And yesterday, they started.
I took Lil C on an hour long walk through my neighborhood and today, I'm breaking out my step and free weights. Lil C said she wants to work out with me. This will be much better than leaving her in the Kid Zone screaming for me. And when I have a few minutes, I can do something here instead of driving 15 minutes to get there. Plus, I'm saving some cash. When my work-outs get stale, I'm going to head over to this new personal training business and get a session or two to get some new ideas. I'm going to see how this works out. I'm hoping it does.
One area where I happen to be holding my own is over at BullsnBalls. I'm writing a fantasy football column over there and am having fun with it. I love fantasy football and am looking forward to doing nothing this weekend except watching every single game. As a writer over there, I have to make picks for college football. I'm not really knowledgeable about college football teams AT ALL. Mr. BBM was going to help me but he's been busy, so I've been picking them myself, based on "a feeling." Head over there to see how I'm doing. I'm pretty proud of myself.
Miles Behind: The Pressure We Put on Kids
Filed under: Growing Pains, Mental Strain for Mama
I don't talk about it often, because it's a huge embarrassment to me. When I was a Junior in high school, I hoped for a permanent spot on the Varsity field hockey team, but I didn't get it. Instead I got tons of time playing on JV where I worked hard and did a great job, but literally only seconds during many Varsity games. Sometimes those seconds came during the last 30 seconds of the game, as my coach looked back, realized she hadn't played me at all, and would throw me in for an embarrassing stint that made no sense. I think I would have preferred not to play at all.
I worked hard at field hockey, playing on weekends in my back yard and inviting my friend over to hit around with me. I wasn't the best player on the team, but I wasn't horrible either. I showed up to every practice and busted my butt, even when I really wanted to just go home and deal with an upset stomach or a super runny nose. Even when sick, I would be there.
Sometimes I think that if my parents had been at more of my games, I would have seen more playing time. But my Dad had a busy schedule at work and we rarely saw him before 6 p.m. at home each week night. My Mom was busy working too, and running my sister around to her activities. They came sometimes, but they weren't the vocal parents on the sidelines that you see today. They blended into the background, kind of the way I obviously did on the sidelines.
During a playoff game my Junior year, my coach forgot to play me at all and tried to put me in with only 30 seconds left in the game. This was the last straw for me. I already felt like she picked on me unnecessarily and I wasn't going to suffer through another embarrassing amount of playtime. I pretended I didn't hear her until it was too late to sub me in, and I made up my mind.
I was done.
Every girl knew that you had to be dressed and on the field running when she came out of the building to start practice. My friends couldn't believe what I was about to do. As she was about ready to grab her stuff and come out, she found me standing at her office door, completely dressed in my school clothes.
She started having a fit on me and asking me why I wasn't dressed. I told her it really didn't matter if I was on the field or not since she refused to allow me to contribute to the team whatsoever. She started to come back at me and yell at me, but I was done. My body shook as I firmly told her that I worked just as hard as everyone else, and that my playing time was a joke. I told her I was done, handed her my uniform, turned my back to her, and walked away as she continued to yell at me and tell me she'd try to give me more playing time in the next game. I was always respectful to my teachers and coaches, and this time was no different. But there was no way she was going to intimidate me into getting back out on the field. I was so done.
Fast forward to present day.
Big I started playing youth field hockey this fall. She's in 3rd grade and the program just started this year for 2nd graders through 6th graders. The program should be a big boost to the already very good junior high and high school field hockey programs as these kids grow up and get on those teams. Around here, if you don't start a sport by the time you reach your 1st birthday, you're pretty much screwed when it comes to future success and playing time. Soccer programs start at the age of 2. Swimming starts at the age of 6 months. If I hadn't found out about the field hockey program, can you imagine how far behind Big I would have been when she hit 7th grade?
Last week they started scrimmaging. Big I was a wreck. She was so worried about playing the right way and doing a good job. With very little actual instruction on how to play the game, the kids went out on the fields and played six on six. I thought she did a great job for having no clue what was going on. She played somewhat aggressively and I was proud of her.
However, there were two girls on the team, both her age, who were amazingly good. One of the Mom's was serving as the coach for her team as she subbed kids in and I commented about how well her daughter was playing. "Oh," she said, "Yeah well she played on a club league all last year with the other girl."
My heart sank. Wanting to spare Big I the same disappointment that I did, I signed her up for the program thinking she would be ahead or at least at the same level. Once again, we seem to have missed the boat. Clearly, if I don't want her to be warming the bench in the later years, I'm going to need to find out about club hockey, and push her to practice all the time.
The thing is, as a 3rd grader, how is it possible to know what you want to do? How is it possible to not get burnt out from a sport if you start it so very young? What if she decides she wants to play tennis four years from now? Will she get cut because she didn't start swinging a racket when she was three?
I know that sports are great for confidence building, especially with girls. But I can't help but wonder if all this youth sport business isn't setting a huge amount of kids up for major disappointment later in life.
In a couple weeks, I'll be signing Big I up for age group swim team and I'm so afraid that she's already going to be starting miles behind everyone else.
If you had as dismal a fantasy football week as I did, go check out my latest column at Bulls N Balls.
Adjustment
To say that going back to teaching a class at 8 a.m. is an adjustment would be a huge understatement. I am not a morning person, never have been. The good thing is that I have really great students this semester. They seem to get me, and although I have a couple slackers, we're getting along pretty well so far.
The grading is killing me though. Where are those leisurely days of summer?
Gone.
Gone.
Gone.
Because Big I is participating in both ju-jutsu and field hockey (and did I mention the girls both start swimming lessons this week?), my training time has been slashed drastically. I'm finding it extremely difficult to get to the dojo. When I was training for black belt, my family made a lot of sacrifices, and I've been doing my best to help out with coaching field hockey and giving everyone enough attention and time. It's a balancing act I'm not good at; I'm very grumpy when I'm not training regularly.
So while I suffer from writer's block or from "this is so boring no one is going to want to read this" self-editing before I even start writing business, I have some suggestions to offer you.
First, check out the reviews over at The BBM Review. I recently participated in a L'oreal make-up review and I did it in honor of Lisa.
Second, my best friend from high school runs a great non-profit called "Drug Free Pennsylvania." They're having an online auction right now and there are some fantastic deals to snag for very low bids. You can check out the auction by clicking here.
In addition, Drug Free PA is also going to do this crazy golf ball drop thing, and you can win some money in the process. It's called a Chopper Dropper and it's a fun and awesome idea. Please go check it out!
If you're into MMA, then you're going to want to check out the new MMA supply website. You can check the site out here and get 15% off anything you'd like through Saturday by using the code "elitebbm."
I guess I did have a little something to say after all. I won't make you wait so long in the future.
On NOT Bringing Back the 80’s
Today I visited campus to make copies galore and hunt for my new classroom location. I start teaching tomorrow at 8 a.m. and didn't want to have to find it while exhausted. I found my room and was very disappointed to see that I have chalk boards. Um, hello, it's 2009 and I wear black all the time. Last year I had white boards and loved it. I think I'm going to just have to teach off of Power Point this year or an overhead because chalk and I are not going to get along. What are the kids going to think when I scratch my nail on the board and vomit right there in the classroom?
My, my, we're off to a good start.
After spending an hour on campus, I took the girls to a couple clothing stores. We were trying to scope out the good ones for our school shopping excursion on Friday with my Mom. Big I has been bugging me to shop at "Justice for Girls" and I've been steering her to Gap, Gymboree and Children's Place instead. She tells me all the kids are wearing "Justice" and that the cool people wear it.
Dude, she's going to third grade. They are too young to be "cool." It's the year that, if she follows in my footsteps, I should cut her bangs really short, dress her in apples and stretch pants with hand prints on them and call it a day. I'm so not ready for "the cool kids wear it" crap.
We browsed through the aisles at Justice and all I could think about was Punky Brewster.
Except looking at Punky Brewster now, I realize she was not even as bad as Justice. Today's Punky, wearing Justice attire, would be like Punky on crack. Justice is just plain insane. There are fluorescent polo tops with attached hot pink ties around the neck, vests in obnoxious colors and jeans that look bedazzled from waist to toe. The colors are blinding and seizure inducing. The graphic t's are near unbearable; and I am so not planning on spending money in that store.
I allowed her to look around, and she pointed out some shirt that looked like a long sleeved white t-shirt underneath an electric blue halter top with silver glitter on it. I almost threw up right then and there. She asked me if I liked it and I said, "no," choosing instead to hold up and smile at a pale blue shirt with only pale blue on it. Very plain, classic, wearable, and not laughable.
Later, on our way to ju-jutsu, I asked her, "So Big I, would you like the clothes at Justice so much if the store was called 'Gymboree' instead?"
She thought for a minute or two and then said, "You know what Mommy? When I got in there, I didn't like it all that much. It kind of looks like rock star stuff, like a costume almost."
Oh Thank God.
On Friday, we're heading to the Gap outlet where I will happily spend money on normal jeans and cute t-shirts and sweaters.
Punky stayed in the 80's for a reason, a damn good one.
***If you're feeling clicky, please go vote for me because I totally don't look like Punky in my pictures.
The Time Suck That Is IKEA
Mr. BBM flew home Thursday night on the red-eye from California and I got a sitter for Friday afternoon and evening. Big dinner out? Romantic night at home?
Not quite.
We went to IKEA.
We arrived at IKEA around 2:30 p.m. and I figured we'd be home in plenty of time to meet our friends at Happy Hour at 6 p.m.
When 6 p.m. rolled around, we were sitting in the cafeteria at IKEA, nursing two very grumpy attitudes because we had still not decided on what we were getting.
Despite the fact that I had spent hours measuring the playroom/office/extra guest room, despite the fact that I had spent the entire morning on the IKEA room planner website, we were still undecided. Mr. BBM and I made it our mission to make the IKEA experience a bit more real. So instead of a beautiful display room featuring only furniture that looked like it was lived in, we made sure it was more realistic as we sat on the sofa's and argued over what we were going to get and how much we were going to spend.
Once Mr. BBM had some food in his stomach, however, his mood changed and we were on a roll. . . literally.
If you've been to IKEA for larger items, then you know that IKEA believes in making their carts with four wheels that spin 360 degrees to mess with people. When you load those carts up with mounds of bookshelves, desk legs, desk tops and extender shelves, you've got one serious challenge on your hands.
I couldn't stop cracking up laughing at Mr. BBM whose cart only seemed to want to go left; and then he couldn't stop laughing at me and telling me how ridiculous I looked trying to push the cart at a reasonable speed and then slow up before running someone over with about 500 lbs. of bookshelves. It's not easy. You basically have to pretend you're a stubborn dog and straighten your legs and decide you won't move. Sometimes you move anyway.
The biggest joke of the night was that we were at about twice what we had budgeted and Mr. BBM held up the window squeegee that he had grabbed at the price of $1 and said he thought we should put it back to save money.
After getting through self-checkout (Seriously, IKEA? Cheap much?), we made it into the elevators and down to the parking garage only to argue for a good 30 minutes about how to load the van.
Me: You're going to have to pull the center seat out.
Mr. BBM: I can't. It won't come out.
Me: Well, it does so it's going to have to come out if we're going to get this stuff home.
Mr. BBM: Well it doesn't COME out.
Me: (Mumbles under breath and proceeds to pull the center seat out in exactly 10 seconds.) Then I'll do it. Freaking men.
Mr. BBM: Well it wouldn't come out for me.
Me: Whatever.
He then realized the Tetris master that I am and allowed me to direct how we were going to get the rest of the stuff in the car. We drove about 10 mph around corners and said silent prayers the whole way home that our tires wouldn't completely blow out on the way home since we knew we had exceeded the weight limit by about a ton.
After spending the ENTIRE day on Saturday building, including removing all the baseboard trim from one entire wall, we finished up last night around midnight, hidden cabinet lighting included.
Tomorrow, Mr. BBM has to go back to IKEA to return cabinet lights that didn't work and exchange them for more cabinet doors which we decided are a must have for the lower kid-friendly shelves.
I did not know that putting in a built-in type bookshelf look in the extra room would result in a major and massive reorganization of the entire house, but it did.
Tonight, Lil C's room is completely organized. Weebles are with weebles and trains are with trains. Most importantly, all her dirty clothes that she stashed in the back of her closet is now in the laundry. It feels good to get organized. It feels even better to know that Idon't have to return to the time suck that is IKEA for a very long time.
***Over the weekend, my Love your Body entry got a #2 on it. I was in the top 50 the last time I looked and that is largely because of you, my awesome readers and voters. Please continue to click here and vote for me until the contest ends. You can vote once per day! Thanks so much!!!
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