Archive for May, 2009

A small little rant

Sometimes I just don’t understand people.  I’m was the team mom for three teams.  I’m team mom for a few reasons.  I have a child that isn’t very good and doesn’t try very hard.  I figure by being team mom she’ll get to at least play part of the game.  I have a child that is very good and I don’t want the coach to feel like he has to play the whole game.  I figure the coaches put so much time into my kids, I’d just feel guilty showing up three times a week and just watching.  So I’m team mom.

I’m pretty sure this will be my last year being team mom.  I spent a good deal of this year feeling like the collection agency.  Honestly, if you feel like team moms make money off of your family’s $5 for the banner or $8 for the coaches gift, you live on some delusional planet.  If you feel like your $5 contribution won’t matter, it does.  I figure that by being McKayla’s team mom I’ve donated close to $50.  It isn’t a big deal, she had a great time, her coaches were awesome.   But still.

What bugs me though is if a parent doesn’t participate, they should apologize and let me know right away.  They shouldn’t get all testy and crazy.  I collected $8 for 3 coaches gifts.  I collected from 9 players. 9x$8=$72.  I sent out emails two weeks in advance.  Two people gave me money the next day.   One week in advance.  No response.  At play off, I walked around collecting money.

One mom told me flat out no.  Umm okay.  She then started going on and on about being broke and they already got the coach’s gifts and blah, blah, blah.  I told her that’s fine if she doesn’t want to participate.  I scratched her off my little list.  Now we’re down to $64.  I walked away.

She then found me and asked what I was buying the coaches.  I told her.   She wanted to know why I didn’t let her know sooner what I was buying.  Why didn’t I take a vote?  Why didn’t I give them more notice? Because she was so broke.  She only gets paid once a month.  She’s broke.  It’s ridiculous that I’d spend $96 on that.  Oh hell no.  I’m sorry I never got the notice that I had to hold a little parent meeting about what to buy the coaches.  If she had a suggestion she could have talked to me.  I sit in the same place every single game, twice a week.  She had my phone number and email address.  I didn’t realize that two weeks wasn’t long enough to save $8.  I just kept telling her, “It’s fine if you don’t want to participate.”   I mean really, I don’t care if you don’t want to participate.  I think it’s rather shitty, but whatever. In five years will it matter?  Will that extra $8 break me?  No.

But now, forever, she’ll be the crazy psychotic mom that just can’t let it go.  All of this over $8.  She’s gotten really confrontational with me in the stands.  She complained to all the parents about it.  How I’m so mean for collecting for the coaches.  She told the coach that I purposely didn’t invite them to the team party.  What???  I sent out an email to everyone.   Why the heck would I not invite a kid?  Just because they have a psycho mom doesn’t mean that I would purposefully not invite the kid.  I do feel like signing the cards:  From the Roadrunners minus (insert kids name).  I won’t though.  That wold be shitty.

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DangerI don’t use my kid’s middle names very often at all.  When they’re really in trouble I’m apt to use a first and last name in either a death-like hiss or a loud and shrill no nonsense Mom voice.  My older three kids have regular middle names, for the most part.  I have an Isabel, that’s totally normal.  There is an Alexander-Real, that’s all about compromise.  Then I have a Javier, that’s a nod to my Mexican heritage.

When Dave and I talked about having a baby, he mentioned that if it was a boy he wanted his middle name to be Danger.  Since I don’t use middle names I agreed.  I figured if he didn’t like it as he grew up, he wouldn’t have to share it.  Plus, I’m sure it’d make him popular with the ladies.  When we found out we were having twins we had to find an equally cool middle name.  We chose Adventure.  I really wanted to name the boys Lewis Danger and Clarke Adventure.  Get it, Lewis and Clarke?  Dave nixed that though.  We chose Nathaniel Danger and Jacob Adventure.

Let me tell you.  Nathaniel lives up to his name at every turn.  I always find him on top of the couch or on the counters.  I’ve even found him climbing up the sides of the stairs.  He will be the kid I spend quality time with at the emergency room.  Poor scaredy-cat Jacob, he is  dragged into many adventures with his Dangerous brother.  They’ve already ran away from home.  I’m sure Nathaniel led that Dangerous Adventure.  We found them two houses down the street.  Nathaniel was petting the kitties, Jacob was crying.

Yesterday at the library he lived up to his name yet again.  He built a large fort out of these soft blocks they have.  It was probably three feet high.  He scurried to the top, because he’s like a cockroach, it’s amazing what he can fit through and how fast he can move.  He stood up and precariously balanced himself on the top.  He raised his hands high and screamed as loud as his little voice would go “I’m a BIG boy!!!!”  and then he braced himself for the dive off.  I ran and scooped him up, mid air.  This is the child who will give me gray hair and have our insurance company question their sanity in insuring us.  What were we thinking?

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Two Bits

twinsDo you see that long, flowing, hip baby hair?  It’s gone.  In just fifteen short minutes my babies went from babies to little boys.

say good-byeDon’t be too scared.  In just a few minutes you’ll no longer be a baby.  In a moment you’ll be transformed from a little tiny baby into a little boy.

hello handsomeIt’s amazing that by cutting those few inches of hair your infancy was lost too.

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Let’s just pretend

like I’v been blogging all along and I’m not a once-a-month blogger.  These last few months have been busy.  I had a birthday and I’m officially old,  I started working from home, the babies turned two, and baseball season came and went.

Over the weekend God decided that it was summer here in our neck of the woods.   It broke 100.  Dave was whinning about it being sooo hot and we needed to turn the air conditioning down.  I told him it was his pasty white European heritage that bred him to be such a wimp.  My mexican roots were keeping me nice and comfortable. I think I may have done something bratty like suggest a Popsicle in leui of turning down the a/c.  100 degrees, no problem.  And then it broke 105, and I almost melted on the side walk.

We don’t sit around watching tv in the air conditioned house like sane people.  We choose these kind of weekends to work outside in our yard or move pianos.  Dave was driving around town on Saturday and saw this around the corner in front of one of our neighbors house:


We walked around the corner and pushed the piano home.  It felt like very music video-esque.  We just needed someone to be rolling along beside us playing and singing.  I’m sure the previous owners of the the piano were quite shocked to see it actually gone.  I’m even more sure that all of our neighbors were more shocked to see us rolling a piano down the street.

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