I have an all-natural, organic, original version comedian in my house. As the fella is watching TV last night and progressing from sitting to jumping on my bed, I request not once, but twice, that he sit down. When we reach time number three, he knows he's blown it.
"Turn the TV off and go play in your room," I instruct him.
Friends, Youngest did exactly what I expected. Not five minutes later, as my 8 year old is being bribed to play hairdresser (amounting to a free head massage, duh!), in walks Youngest.
"Mom..." he ever-so-politely says in his most charming voice, as he softly and gently places his hand on my arm. "Can we just..." (total dramatic pause for emphasis) "...start over?"
"What?!?" replies Baseball Chick. "That's what people in relationships say to each other."
"Of course, Youngest. We can start over." In other words, suckered once again to giving in to the most adorable child in this entire world. As the Hub would say: "SUCKA!"
I know you fine folks are wondering what this weekend has in store. We are geared up for a terrific night of football. Chantilly Chargers are chowing down on Herndon tonight. Considering the Herndon Hornets have had a just plain awful season so far, we're not thinking this is going to be too big of a spectacle. The Hub told Oldest to make sure his team plays smart; don't be overconfident and face a ridiculous upset. Biggest news might have to be that it's going to be all of 30 degrees out tonight. Can you say El-Freez-O? Brrrr....
The really, really big news would actually have to be that this is Senior Night. Our baby boy gets to escort us. Or we escort him? Can't quite figure out who's escorting who. In any case, the Hub, Oldest and I will be strutting out on that field to show our bright smiles, proud hearts and our senior boy as he wraps us his final high school football season. Regular season anyway, We're anticipating district, regional and duh...state wins! As my fellow fans of Friday Night Lights TV show know all too well...we're going to States!
Once we thaw out from tonight, we've got 2 soccer games and 1 baseball game tomorrow. Regretably we have some overlap. The baseball and 1 soccer game convene at the same time. And just in time to interrupt an afternoon nap for me, Youngest plays at 4pm. If Soccer Chick's team can pull out a win Saturday they will pull their record from a jaw-dropping 0-3 record to 3-3. Who in the world knows what Baseball Chick's record is. I don't think anyone truly knows at this point. Good news is her team is full of good hitters. Miraculously games are not lasting for 2 hours any more. That's enough to cheer for right there. And Youngest, well, I have a sneaking suspicion Youngest is going to dominate that ball again this week. He's gotten warmed up and refined those dance moves, those hips-shaking, those comical facial expressions to create a soccer star even David Beckham would want to meet. There is no package quite like this one.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Hugs, anyone? 10.26.10
Maybe it's just us Copelands, but seems we are some hugging people. I have been noticing lately how whenever we see anyone we greet them with a hug. Not just family, but friends from present and past, teenage friends of ours, neighbors, anyone. Alright, well, no...not anyone. I'm exaggerating. But it seems that our hug policy just about applies to anyone...
Every Friday night at a football game we encounter high school friends of Oldest. What do we do? "Hey girl!" and hug ensues. When those said teenagers see Youngest, arms fly wide open, big enough for him to run into them for his hug greeting to be applied. To his credit, often he is the only one greeted by some of these teenagers and we know that is his booming personality in full effect. Everyone loves Youngest.
What is this hugging thing, you think? I was contemplating today, why are we such huggers? Sometimes the Hub will hug someone and then the Hub says to me "why did I just hug her? I don't even know her like that." Today as I'm thinking why do we have such a connection-driven need to get our hug on, Youngest says "Mom when can we go to the girl and boy's house again with the double babies?" He would be referring to the awesome football-watching, lunch-having time we had at my cousin's house on Sunday. She has twins..."double babies."
"We had so much fun there mom." At that moment, I got it. We are huggers because of that connection. We, as people, in general crave connection...with somebody...often anybody. For us Copelands, it's our way of connecting with that person who we really like. They have made it past the first phase of just being "alright", into the real deal of "we like you."
So when we see you if you get a hug you know where you stand. Kidding, friends. Some moments are not hug moments, but for the most part we find ourselves reaching in to get that connection going. We know we are "like that" with that person, and our hug seals the deal. They know it too. Connected.
Every Friday night at a football game we encounter high school friends of Oldest. What do we do? "Hey girl!" and hug ensues. When those said teenagers see Youngest, arms fly wide open, big enough for him to run into them for his hug greeting to be applied. To his credit, often he is the only one greeted by some of these teenagers and we know that is his booming personality in full effect. Everyone loves Youngest.
What is this hugging thing, you think? I was contemplating today, why are we such huggers? Sometimes the Hub will hug someone and then the Hub says to me "why did I just hug her? I don't even know her like that." Today as I'm thinking why do we have such a connection-driven need to get our hug on, Youngest says "Mom when can we go to the girl and boy's house again with the double babies?" He would be referring to the awesome football-watching, lunch-having time we had at my cousin's house on Sunday. She has twins..."double babies."
"We had so much fun there mom." At that moment, I got it. We are huggers because of that connection. We, as people, in general crave connection...with somebody...often anybody. For us Copelands, it's our way of connecting with that person who we really like. They have made it past the first phase of just being "alright", into the real deal of "we like you."
So when we see you if you get a hug you know where you stand. Kidding, friends. Some moments are not hug moments, but for the most part we find ourselves reaching in to get that connection going. We know we are "like that" with that person, and our hug seals the deal. They know it too. Connected.
Monday, October 25, 2010
A Week's Worth of Weekend...10.25.10
I'm thinking I don't even know where to begin. This weekend was so full it was literally running over with stuff. Great news is I have so much to tell you! Friday night football game...amazing. Wait-more like Uh-May-zingggg. For background purposes you should know that in the history of these two teams playing together, Chantilly has never (never, friends!) beaten Westfields in the regular season. In addition to our terrible loss the week before, there was just a lot riding on this game for these boys. By the time we reached halftime I had sadly written this off as a loss for us. We just were not playing well offensively and at halftime when the scoreboard says 0-14 there was just a collective sadness about. The rivalry between these two teams is so serious that the cheers and calls from our side sounded most like "We hate Westfields" rather than "Let's go Chantilly." It was intense, friends.
I have discovered in the world of high school football that a lot happens in the locker room at half time. Not sure what happened for us, but somehow, in the face of a pitifully sad game, we managed to come out and tie up the score. Let's just say Westfields was not happy about that. An unsportsmanship like conduct call later, we are gaining momentum. With four minutes left and extreme difficulty in passing their defense, what's a team to do? Why, get a field goal no doubt. As the time wound down, we miraculously scored a game-winning field goal to gloat with a 17-14 win. First time in history folks. The crowd storms the field, kids are jumping everywhere. I literally swooped my kin to safety to avoid the trample of raging emotions and joy by teens oblivious to anything but the win. It was truly amazing. I didn't think they would pull it out, but friends, all that matters is they took home a win. A much needed win for our pride and our stats. Two regular season games left and then we start regionals.
After an emotionally-charged evening, we were up bright and early for the rest of the family's game-life on Saturday. Early morning baseball game for Baseball Chick. This girl did some damage out there. She had her game face on and was all about making those plays. Two singles and a double to be proud of. My favorite part about this section of our Saturday would have to be the post-game races. The older brother of one of her teammates challenged her to race him on the field. You could see in his eyes that this boy recognized how fast Baseball Chick is, but also that he had a need to prove to himself that he could beat her. At the presentation of the challenge, I looked at him, then at Baseball Chick and said, "take him." She raced that boy two years older than her and I swear she whooped him something good. She says it was a tie, well, because that's just her nature. She didn't smoke him so she gave him the benefit of saying it was a tie. I say she beat him. Next comes the little brother. The one who actually is on her team. Well, you know, big brother does it, I gotta do it too. Let's just say Baseball Chick put this boy so far in her dust, he didn't even have time to eat it. No contest...the girl is fast.
Second game of the day would be Youngest's soccer game. Amazing, friends. Again, better said like this: Uh-May-Zinggg. This boy, with his hips shaking and fancy moves, scored all three of his teams goals. I think he's got the hang of it now. He was all over the ball. The very best part is watching his post-goal moves. There's a dance and a hip shaking and a whole lot of moves involved. At the last second of the game the boy was going for his 4th goal. Just shy of the net and he missed. From the look of disappointment and frustration on his face, you would have thought it was the World Cup.
Third game of the day was Soccer Chick's. Again, friends...I can't make this stuff up. Uh-May-Zingggg. Both teams struggling to score, and I do tell you I could feel Soccer Chick's pain. You can see why people upgrade to playing travel soccer instead of house. It can be frustrating playing with less than talented kids. I don't say that to be mean, but I do say it because the girl is serious about her soccer. She plays an intense game, very focused and likes to win. When kicks are missed, defenders are sleeping and goals are easily scored, it's frustrating. Somehow the opposing team scored and all us parents on the side are thinking "we already have a 1-3 record, we really can't lose this game." A goal is made and the score is tied up.
Well, no one wants to take home a tie either. Soccer Chick is in the game with seconds left to play. She's down the field, weaving in and out past defenders and to the goal, fakes out the goalie and shoots...she scores!!!! Whistle blows...game ends. Crowd goes crazy. Okay, well..."crowd". It's only us parents out there, but still. A handful of people at best, but still. She scored the game winning goal to win 2-1. YEAH!!! What a morale booster. It was a beautiful shot. The girl has talent and easily passes defenders. Soccer scholarship here we come...
And lastly, I would rob you of a smile today if I didn't share a Youngest moment with you. Riding in the car at night on Saturday. Just me, the Hub and Youngest.
"Mom," he says, in the dark...
"Remember that time daddy wasn't home and you let us eat pizza upstairs because we weren't supposed to but daddy wasn't home so you let us. Remember that time?"
Trying hard not to choke, I slowly turn towards the Hub. The overhead light switches on and he looks at me and says, "Really Youngest? That's what you do when I'm not home?"
"Yes daddy. You were out somewhere and not home and that's what we did because you were not home."
Now friends, I'm crossed between laughing and choking.
"I was working Youngest. That's what daddy is out doing. Working so you can eat pizza buddy."
"Okay dad. But remember that mom. When we did that? We weren't supposed to do that but we did do that. That was fun. Can we do that again?" Not likely to happen I'm afraid...What's a girl to do? I can't erase his memories and I can't stifle his timing. Classic, just classic.
"I expect you will be blogging about this, won't ya honey."
I have discovered in the world of high school football that a lot happens in the locker room at half time. Not sure what happened for us, but somehow, in the face of a pitifully sad game, we managed to come out and tie up the score. Let's just say Westfields was not happy about that. An unsportsmanship like conduct call later, we are gaining momentum. With four minutes left and extreme difficulty in passing their defense, what's a team to do? Why, get a field goal no doubt. As the time wound down, we miraculously scored a game-winning field goal to gloat with a 17-14 win. First time in history folks. The crowd storms the field, kids are jumping everywhere. I literally swooped my kin to safety to avoid the trample of raging emotions and joy by teens oblivious to anything but the win. It was truly amazing. I didn't think they would pull it out, but friends, all that matters is they took home a win. A much needed win for our pride and our stats. Two regular season games left and then we start regionals.
After an emotionally-charged evening, we were up bright and early for the rest of the family's game-life on Saturday. Early morning baseball game for Baseball Chick. This girl did some damage out there. She had her game face on and was all about making those plays. Two singles and a double to be proud of. My favorite part about this section of our Saturday would have to be the post-game races. The older brother of one of her teammates challenged her to race him on the field. You could see in his eyes that this boy recognized how fast Baseball Chick is, but also that he had a need to prove to himself that he could beat her. At the presentation of the challenge, I looked at him, then at Baseball Chick and said, "take him." She raced that boy two years older than her and I swear she whooped him something good. She says it was a tie, well, because that's just her nature. She didn't smoke him so she gave him the benefit of saying it was a tie. I say she beat him. Next comes the little brother. The one who actually is on her team. Well, you know, big brother does it, I gotta do it too. Let's just say Baseball Chick put this boy so far in her dust, he didn't even have time to eat it. No contest...the girl is fast.
Second game of the day would be Youngest's soccer game. Amazing, friends. Again, better said like this: Uh-May-Zinggg. This boy, with his hips shaking and fancy moves, scored all three of his teams goals. I think he's got the hang of it now. He was all over the ball. The very best part is watching his post-goal moves. There's a dance and a hip shaking and a whole lot of moves involved. At the last second of the game the boy was going for his 4th goal. Just shy of the net and he missed. From the look of disappointment and frustration on his face, you would have thought it was the World Cup.
Third game of the day was Soccer Chick's. Again, friends...I can't make this stuff up. Uh-May-Zingggg. Both teams struggling to score, and I do tell you I could feel Soccer Chick's pain. You can see why people upgrade to playing travel soccer instead of house. It can be frustrating playing with less than talented kids. I don't say that to be mean, but I do say it because the girl is serious about her soccer. She plays an intense game, very focused and likes to win. When kicks are missed, defenders are sleeping and goals are easily scored, it's frustrating. Somehow the opposing team scored and all us parents on the side are thinking "we already have a 1-3 record, we really can't lose this game." A goal is made and the score is tied up.
Well, no one wants to take home a tie either. Soccer Chick is in the game with seconds left to play. She's down the field, weaving in and out past defenders and to the goal, fakes out the goalie and shoots...she scores!!!! Whistle blows...game ends. Crowd goes crazy. Okay, well..."crowd". It's only us parents out there, but still. A handful of people at best, but still. She scored the game winning goal to win 2-1. YEAH!!! What a morale booster. It was a beautiful shot. The girl has talent and easily passes defenders. Soccer scholarship here we come...
And lastly, I would rob you of a smile today if I didn't share a Youngest moment with you. Riding in the car at night on Saturday. Just me, the Hub and Youngest.
"Mom," he says, in the dark...
"Remember that time daddy wasn't home and you let us eat pizza upstairs because we weren't supposed to but daddy wasn't home so you let us. Remember that time?"
Trying hard not to choke, I slowly turn towards the Hub. The overhead light switches on and he looks at me and says, "Really Youngest? That's what you do when I'm not home?"
"Yes daddy. You were out somewhere and not home and that's what we did because you were not home."
Now friends, I'm crossed between laughing and choking.
"I was working Youngest. That's what daddy is out doing. Working so you can eat pizza buddy."
"Okay dad. But remember that mom. When we did that? We weren't supposed to do that but we did do that. That was fun. Can we do that again?" Not likely to happen I'm afraid...What's a girl to do? I can't erase his memories and I can't stifle his timing. Classic, just classic.
"I expect you will be blogging about this, won't ya honey."
Friday, October 22, 2010
Sigh...
I want all you moms out there to sigh with me. Ready...sigh...If you didn't do it on cue, you will soon...I drop Youngest off at school this morning to the sounds of his rattling on about how excited he is to be doing the Fun Bus today. That's a converted school bus that pulls up in front of his daycare every Friday to zap my pocket of twelve bucks and let him play crazy inside. Went to sleep dreaming about it, he said. Dreamt the bus took off and he was doing "whatever he wanted" inside. I call this a nightmare, but he says "dream."
Today is also toy day. Youngest brought a motorcycle and a guy to ride the motorcycle and a dinosaur. Nothing spectacular but as we entered the room and a fella from across the table spotted Youngest's toys, they apparently were perceived as exactly spectacular. "Oh! I have that same guy at home," he says as he approaches to come closer. And here, friends, is where I insert my sighing behavior. Youngest, in all his four years of wisdom and perception, glances at the friend and back at me. I lean in to give him my usual hug and kiss and he pulls back and says "s'up." As if he is the coolest cat that ever walked.
Again he looks at his buddy, who clearly is oblivious to Youngest's apprehension, "Mom! No way. Totally not cool." And then seeing my...um, let's see...terror, horror, panic, confusion..."Okay fine," and proceeds to give me the most pitiful hug you've ever seen in your life.
I could have sworn I had a few more years before he was self-conscious about hugging his fabulous mother in front of his friends. He's 4 for goodness sakes! I already know that Youngest's intelligence and perception skills are way beyond that of a four year old so I shouldn't be surprised. Not surprised, but definitely sighing...
Sigh...
Today is also toy day. Youngest brought a motorcycle and a guy to ride the motorcycle and a dinosaur. Nothing spectacular but as we entered the room and a fella from across the table spotted Youngest's toys, they apparently were perceived as exactly spectacular. "Oh! I have that same guy at home," he says as he approaches to come closer. And here, friends, is where I insert my sighing behavior. Youngest, in all his four years of wisdom and perception, glances at the friend and back at me. I lean in to give him my usual hug and kiss and he pulls back and says "s'up." As if he is the coolest cat that ever walked.
Again he looks at his buddy, who clearly is oblivious to Youngest's apprehension, "Mom! No way. Totally not cool." And then seeing my...um, let's see...terror, horror, panic, confusion..."Okay fine," and proceeds to give me the most pitiful hug you've ever seen in your life.
I could have sworn I had a few more years before he was self-conscious about hugging his fabulous mother in front of his friends. He's 4 for goodness sakes! I already know that Youngest's intelligence and perception skills are way beyond that of a four year old so I shouldn't be surprised. Not surprised, but definitely sighing...
Sigh...
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Permission to Blog
"Ring Ring..."
Thanks to caller ID, the Hub greets me with "A farmer has to plant 8 rows of corn. He has already planted 7. What fraction of the rows have been planted." Dead Silence.
"Are you serious?" I ask. He's quite obviously working with Baseball Chick on a homework assignment.
"Dead serious." and he repeats the stumper.
"Hub. You're not serious. 7/8ths. 7 of the 8 rows have been planted. Hahahahahahahahahaha. You aren't serious."
"Wait. What?" He quietly repeats the entire problem to himself.
"Oh. Haha. Um. Yes. I was serious. Haha. Soccer Chick did you know the answer? Baseball Chick, it's 7/8ths. Rach, you have my permission to blog about that."
Thanks to caller ID, the Hub greets me with "A farmer has to plant 8 rows of corn. He has already planted 7. What fraction of the rows have been planted." Dead Silence.
"Are you serious?" I ask. He's quite obviously working with Baseball Chick on a homework assignment.
"Dead serious." and he repeats the stumper.
"Hub. You're not serious. 7/8ths. 7 of the 8 rows have been planted. Hahahahahahahahahaha. You aren't serious."
"Wait. What?" He quietly repeats the entire problem to himself.
"Oh. Haha. Um. Yes. I was serious. Haha. Soccer Chick did you know the answer? Baseball Chick, it's 7/8ths. Rach, you have my permission to blog about that."
Just For Fun
Evening dinner tradition usually includes a discussion starter sometime around when everyone's mouths are full of food, eager to dig in and happy to finally be eating. You know that quiet that embarks 2 seconds after you say grace? That one. Usually at that time I throw out my traditional "tell me something about your day" kind of thing. Yesterday I decided to change it up a bit...
"So...who can tell me something I don't know?"
Me in all my mom wisdom was thinking they will tell me something they learned at school today, and try their hand at stumping me.
Baseball Chick offers: "You don't know about possessive nouns."
"Yup. You got that right. I sure don't. Do you?"
"Haha," she says, "maybe not."
"I got 5 things you don't know mom," says Youngest.
"Alright, give 'em to me." I reply.
"One...You don't know how to make a sculpture. And that's one. This one." He says as he gestures to his thumb specifically.
"Two...You don't know how to make a bowl." Where exactly are we going with this?
"And three...You can't really cook." Rounds of laughter erupted as his dead-on analysis of his mother.
"And that makes 5 mom. 5 things you don't know."
"Baseball Chick, do you have that wonderful letter you wrote to your teacher in your backpack?"
"Oh yes, mom."
"Great. But by the way, her name is spelled J-O-H-N, for Johnson. Not J-H-O-N. Just keep that in mind for next time."
"Oh, okay. I was sounding it out, you know. Sounds like J-H. But you know, I think we are equal."
"Equal?" I say.
"Yup. She calls me Lay-a so I'm sure we are equal."
"Oh look Youngest! There's your brother's football team practicing!" I exclaim as we drive home from daycare, past the high school.
"Oh wow...Mom, what is a football practice like?"
"I don't know Youngest. I've never been to a football practice. You should ask your dad when we get home. He would know."
Dead silence...and then: "Nothing's happening."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm asking him. In my head...right now. I asked him and nothing's happening. I can't hear anything."
I walk into the daycare to pick up my dearest Youngest and go to get his stuff out of his cubby box. The lovely little place for his jacket, his extra clothes, you know...stuff that belongs to him. Lo and behold, a tiny little hand is racing to beat me to it. Youngest quickly pulls out a toy sculpture from building squares he has obviously made, and promptly became attached to, today. He gives me the look. You know the look. The one where he's trying to melt me with his eyes. Kind of exactly like the look Dr. Avery gave on the last episode of Grey's Anatomy. Totally using his charm and ability to sway me for what was coming.
"Put it back." I say, quite simply.
"Mom," he says. "If you could just...give me some time." with precise Academy Award winning precision. As if this is his request in saying goodbye to his one true love about to leave the country and his heart forever.
We are talking about plastic one-inch building squares.
"So...who can tell me something I don't know?"
Me in all my mom wisdom was thinking they will tell me something they learned at school today, and try their hand at stumping me.
Baseball Chick offers: "You don't know about possessive nouns."
"Yup. You got that right. I sure don't. Do you?"
"Haha," she says, "maybe not."
"I got 5 things you don't know mom," says Youngest.
"Alright, give 'em to me." I reply.
"One...You don't know how to make a sculpture. And that's one. This one." He says as he gestures to his thumb specifically.
"Two...You don't know how to make a bowl." Where exactly are we going with this?
"And three...You can't really cook." Rounds of laughter erupted as his dead-on analysis of his mother.
"And that makes 5 mom. 5 things you don't know."
"Baseball Chick, do you have that wonderful letter you wrote to your teacher in your backpack?"
"Oh yes, mom."
"Great. But by the way, her name is spelled J-O-H-N, for Johnson. Not J-H-O-N. Just keep that in mind for next time."
"Oh, okay. I was sounding it out, you know. Sounds like J-H. But you know, I think we are equal."
"Equal?" I say.
"Yup. She calls me Lay-a so I'm sure we are equal."
"Oh look Youngest! There's your brother's football team practicing!" I exclaim as we drive home from daycare, past the high school.
"Oh wow...Mom, what is a football practice like?"
"I don't know Youngest. I've never been to a football practice. You should ask your dad when we get home. He would know."
Dead silence...and then: "Nothing's happening."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm asking him. In my head...right now. I asked him and nothing's happening. I can't hear anything."
I walk into the daycare to pick up my dearest Youngest and go to get his stuff out of his cubby box. The lovely little place for his jacket, his extra clothes, you know...stuff that belongs to him. Lo and behold, a tiny little hand is racing to beat me to it. Youngest quickly pulls out a toy sculpture from building squares he has obviously made, and promptly became attached to, today. He gives me the look. You know the look. The one where he's trying to melt me with his eyes. Kind of exactly like the look Dr. Avery gave on the last episode of Grey's Anatomy. Totally using his charm and ability to sway me for what was coming.
"Put it back." I say, quite simply.
"Mom," he says. "If you could just...give me some time." with precise Academy Award winning precision. As if this is his request in saying goodbye to his one true love about to leave the country and his heart forever.
We are talking about plastic one-inch building squares.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Emotional Rollercoaster
Rewind to Friday night. Saddest football game of my football-mom career. It's an all defense game. We enter the half tied at 7 and it was a fight for either side to even make that. Somehow we made the non-intelligent choice of sitting next to Chantilly's student section. Well...let's just say it was a "white out" (everyone wears white to support the team) and along with the white clothes, baby powder is apparently a necessity. Every good play by Chantilly's stellar team, called for a shaking of baby powder like you wouldn't believe. At the end of it all, we sure did smell good.
We were tickled pink by a young friend of Oldest's finding us in the stands and sitting with us. It took half a minute to realize she had his football number plastered on her beautiful face. The Hub took every opportunity to grill her about that and about her intentions with our boy! Youngest, being the ever-popular person he is, had no less than 5 of his own high school friends who came up to the stands to greet and hug him, high fives and "what's up man?" all around. The kid is ridiculously popular at 4.
Chantilly was able to fight for a second touchdown putting us at 13 with the wind stripping us of our field goal for the extra point. With 40 seconds left on the clock, our only job is to hold them back and keep our lead and win the most intense game ever. The fans are on their feet. Thank God I had an ex-high school footballer behind me, telling his girlfriend the play-by-play of what's what. Let's just say the Hub is too engrossed to do that for us. With those puny 40 seconds left, Centreville drives for a touchdown. It's 4th down and they are on no more than the 10 yard line. You know my eyesight is bad, so don't quote me on the yardage. 4th down and it looks to me, my family, the entire student section, all of Centreville, all of Chantilly, that this Centreville guy has failed. We are all celebrating! Louder than loud, Chantilly is literally jumping on top of each other with joy. When wait- what's that? The ref says it's a touchdown. I know that every parent facing a devastating blow would say the ref cheated. But friends, we're all in agreement the refs cheated here. Everyone-I mean everyone (including Centreville) felt like this boy did not make it into the endzone. I take as my evidence the fact that the opposing team was sporting their disappointed loss all over their hung faces. Yet, 2 seconds later, Centreville is elated. The ref's got his hands in the air like his life depends on it and it's a touchdown Centreville. You gotta be kidding me.
So we're going into overtime folks. Each team gets 4 downs to make a touchdown. We are now tied at 13 and Chantilly is on offense. We fight for a touchdown and miss the field goal. We stand at 19. Let me interrupt the playback by amusing you with the sight of all the student body (completely in white remember) rushing from the stands to the end zone fence. It was like a stampede. Remember we were sitting close to them. We quickly held our loved ones close and let them scamper by!
Centreville's turn and they manage to score. They also miss the field goal, so friends, we are tied again at 19. Friends! Think of the emotional exhausting time we were having. Our turn again and we score. So we're at 25. Sadly, we miss the field goal again. And this is from a kicker who hasn't missed all year. It was, in his defense, an extremely windy night. If it was me, the pressure alone would have done me in. It's Centreville's turn, they fight hard for another touchdown and we are tied at 25. What do they do? What would you do, Coach Reader? They go for 2. They are going to push to run the ball in for 2 points rather than risk a field goal and the wind have it's way with them.
Everything lies in the hands of our incredible defense right now-everything. They have played an incredible game (almost the entire game) and have to be exhausted. Yet, they know what's on the line. Sadly, friends, they rush and within inches make the end zone. My stomach dropped out of my feet. Centreville goes crazy, rushes the field. And incredible win for them. They fought for it all night, on their home field, senior night, and coming off a record of 4 wins for the previous 2 seasons combined. This is the first year they have played well in the last three years and they take the lead with the 7-0 record. While we, on the other hand, walk home with our heads hung down, and stand at 6-1. It was the saddest, most ridiculously called, game ever. You know the Hub was looking for one, just one, of those refs after the game. By God's intelligent grace, we didn't see any on the way out.
Oldest came home with the saddest looking face I have ever seen. The Hub and I surrounded him and gave him condolence hugs; told him how proud we were and did our after-the-game ritual of dissecting what went right and wrong. Oldest says they lost the game themselves with those missed field goals. That and those lovely refs. The best part of this tragedy would have to be Oldest's after-game-shake-hands-with-the-other-team thing. He's got tears streaming down his disappointed face and, for the first time ever, he had opposing players surrounding him telling him what an incredible job he and the defense did. That's right, they recognize our ferocity. It was a defining moment for him.
Somehow we managed to arouse on Saturday morning for a new round of games. Youngest played a soccer game like I have never seen before. Sadly, they lost 10-3. I am not sure how in pee wee soccer it can be so easy for them to score goal after goal and so easy for us to just watch it go in...over and over and over... Youngest has developed a kick jump that is out of this world. Every single kick is a performance and involves some sort of dramatic leap in the air and landing twisted around. It's incredible. So, soccer may not be his thing...His team did score three. As Youngest approached us for some water, he was elated at the score. "YES! WE GOT A GOAL!!! But it wasn't me though!" Hilarious.
On to Soccer Chick's game. I almost yanked her out of the game myself for her sullen attitude when put on defense. I mean, so you don't want to play defense...so what? Suck it up and go where the coach tells you. But that, in fact, was not what she did. She pouted, let the ball roll by her and was surrounded by "Soccer Chick! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?" The team they played was far, far less than great and we dominated the field the entire time. It was a windy day and we hit no less than 8 attempts and still no goal. I must remind you her team stands at a season of 0-3. They seriously needed to win this game. With Soccer Chick on offense, she fights, literally fights, for a goal. Parents go crazy! Somehow they manage to come back and score again. We score again and friends, we take the win. Superb! Favorite part of this game would have to be when Soccer Chick ran over, literally ran over, an opposing player near my sideline. "That's right Soccer Chick! You run her over if you have to!", says her wild mother. And the poor child stands up...and she's small. Half the size of Soccer Chick. She looks over at me, thinking what kind of mom would tell her daughter that? So I mouth, "oh! sorry..." to her and try to save face. In my defense, I had no idea the child was small.
On to Baseball Chick's game. She hit three singles and had a great game from what I caught of it, that being only about 15 minutes near the end. All in all, it was a busy, terrific weekend for games. Except for that devastating loss on Friday night. I'm still shaking my head. This Friday, is our biggest rival. Westfields. This is a game to win. They HAVE to win this game to reclaim their dignity and ranking. It's a must. It's a home game and while we won't be bringing baby powder, we will be plenty fired up.
Youngest antic to set your week off right: In children's church yesterday the lesson was on becoming a better giver. After a thorough explanation of what we can do to be more giving (i.e. our time, our hugs, our help, our things, etc) I worked with Youngest to create his "Giving Chart". We came up with some good ideas: "Give my shirt to my neighbor friend."
"Um...okay."
I say to Youngest, "What about your mouth? Can you be a bigger giver with your mouth?" I'm thinking give away compliments and kind words, right?
A puzzled look is stricken on his face as he replies matter of factly, "I think I'd like to keep my mouth mom."
We were tickled pink by a young friend of Oldest's finding us in the stands and sitting with us. It took half a minute to realize she had his football number plastered on her beautiful face. The Hub took every opportunity to grill her about that and about her intentions with our boy! Youngest, being the ever-popular person he is, had no less than 5 of his own high school friends who came up to the stands to greet and hug him, high fives and "what's up man?" all around. The kid is ridiculously popular at 4.
Chantilly was able to fight for a second touchdown putting us at 13 with the wind stripping us of our field goal for the extra point. With 40 seconds left on the clock, our only job is to hold them back and keep our lead and win the most intense game ever. The fans are on their feet. Thank God I had an ex-high school footballer behind me, telling his girlfriend the play-by-play of what's what. Let's just say the Hub is too engrossed to do that for us. With those puny 40 seconds left, Centreville drives for a touchdown. It's 4th down and they are on no more than the 10 yard line. You know my eyesight is bad, so don't quote me on the yardage. 4th down and it looks to me, my family, the entire student section, all of Centreville, all of Chantilly, that this Centreville guy has failed. We are all celebrating! Louder than loud, Chantilly is literally jumping on top of each other with joy. When wait- what's that? The ref says it's a touchdown. I know that every parent facing a devastating blow would say the ref cheated. But friends, we're all in agreement the refs cheated here. Everyone-I mean everyone (including Centreville) felt like this boy did not make it into the endzone. I take as my evidence the fact that the opposing team was sporting their disappointed loss all over their hung faces. Yet, 2 seconds later, Centreville is elated. The ref's got his hands in the air like his life depends on it and it's a touchdown Centreville. You gotta be kidding me.
So we're going into overtime folks. Each team gets 4 downs to make a touchdown. We are now tied at 13 and Chantilly is on offense. We fight for a touchdown and miss the field goal. We stand at 19. Let me interrupt the playback by amusing you with the sight of all the student body (completely in white remember) rushing from the stands to the end zone fence. It was like a stampede. Remember we were sitting close to them. We quickly held our loved ones close and let them scamper by!
Centreville's turn and they manage to score. They also miss the field goal, so friends, we are tied again at 19. Friends! Think of the emotional exhausting time we were having. Our turn again and we score. So we're at 25. Sadly, we miss the field goal again. And this is from a kicker who hasn't missed all year. It was, in his defense, an extremely windy night. If it was me, the pressure alone would have done me in. It's Centreville's turn, they fight hard for another touchdown and we are tied at 25. What do they do? What would you do, Coach Reader? They go for 2. They are going to push to run the ball in for 2 points rather than risk a field goal and the wind have it's way with them.
Everything lies in the hands of our incredible defense right now-everything. They have played an incredible game (almost the entire game) and have to be exhausted. Yet, they know what's on the line. Sadly, friends, they rush and within inches make the end zone. My stomach dropped out of my feet. Centreville goes crazy, rushes the field. And incredible win for them. They fought for it all night, on their home field, senior night, and coming off a record of 4 wins for the previous 2 seasons combined. This is the first year they have played well in the last three years and they take the lead with the 7-0 record. While we, on the other hand, walk home with our heads hung down, and stand at 6-1. It was the saddest, most ridiculously called, game ever. You know the Hub was looking for one, just one, of those refs after the game. By God's intelligent grace, we didn't see any on the way out.
Oldest came home with the saddest looking face I have ever seen. The Hub and I surrounded him and gave him condolence hugs; told him how proud we were and did our after-the-game ritual of dissecting what went right and wrong. Oldest says they lost the game themselves with those missed field goals. That and those lovely refs. The best part of this tragedy would have to be Oldest's after-game-shake-hands-with-the-other-team thing. He's got tears streaming down his disappointed face and, for the first time ever, he had opposing players surrounding him telling him what an incredible job he and the defense did. That's right, they recognize our ferocity. It was a defining moment for him.
Somehow we managed to arouse on Saturday morning for a new round of games. Youngest played a soccer game like I have never seen before. Sadly, they lost 10-3. I am not sure how in pee wee soccer it can be so easy for them to score goal after goal and so easy for us to just watch it go in...over and over and over... Youngest has developed a kick jump that is out of this world. Every single kick is a performance and involves some sort of dramatic leap in the air and landing twisted around. It's incredible. So, soccer may not be his thing...His team did score three. As Youngest approached us for some water, he was elated at the score. "YES! WE GOT A GOAL!!! But it wasn't me though!" Hilarious.
On to Soccer Chick's game. I almost yanked her out of the game myself for her sullen attitude when put on defense. I mean, so you don't want to play defense...so what? Suck it up and go where the coach tells you. But that, in fact, was not what she did. She pouted, let the ball roll by her and was surrounded by "Soccer Chick! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?" The team they played was far, far less than great and we dominated the field the entire time. It was a windy day and we hit no less than 8 attempts and still no goal. I must remind you her team stands at a season of 0-3. They seriously needed to win this game. With Soccer Chick on offense, she fights, literally fights, for a goal. Parents go crazy! Somehow they manage to come back and score again. We score again and friends, we take the win. Superb! Favorite part of this game would have to be when Soccer Chick ran over, literally ran over, an opposing player near my sideline. "That's right Soccer Chick! You run her over if you have to!", says her wild mother. And the poor child stands up...and she's small. Half the size of Soccer Chick. She looks over at me, thinking what kind of mom would tell her daughter that? So I mouth, "oh! sorry..." to her and try to save face. In my defense, I had no idea the child was small.
On to Baseball Chick's game. She hit three singles and had a great game from what I caught of it, that being only about 15 minutes near the end. All in all, it was a busy, terrific weekend for games. Except for that devastating loss on Friday night. I'm still shaking my head. This Friday, is our biggest rival. Westfields. This is a game to win. They HAVE to win this game to reclaim their dignity and ranking. It's a must. It's a home game and while we won't be bringing baby powder, we will be plenty fired up.
Youngest antic to set your week off right: In children's church yesterday the lesson was on becoming a better giver. After a thorough explanation of what we can do to be more giving (i.e. our time, our hugs, our help, our things, etc) I worked with Youngest to create his "Giving Chart". We came up with some good ideas: "Give my shirt to my neighbor friend."
"Um...okay."
I say to Youngest, "What about your mouth? Can you be a bigger giver with your mouth?" I'm thinking give away compliments and kind words, right?
A puzzled look is stricken on his face as he replies matter of factly, "I think I'd like to keep my mouth mom."
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