I hated baseball, until I didn't

I have never been shy to admit that I am not sporty. I didn't play any competitive sports as a kid, and was afraid--ok, I am STILL-- afraid of balls flying at me.

Naturally, opposites attract and all- I married a man who was very sporty. And gave birth to two boys who want to be just like Dad. Sporty.

I was pretty fortunate to avoid going to every single baseball game over the past nine years because Brian was Luke's coach. My attendance was not mandatory; I could breeze in and fly out when I got bored. Which shouldn't surprise you didn't take long. Even when we had winning seasons, I didn't attend many full games. I just didn't care to watch baseball.

I knew I had it good, didn't have to subject myself to the elements- I was quite the fair weather baseball parent.

Until this year. Brian changed jobs and could no longer coach Luke's team. He also couldn't make it to all of Luke and Noah's games.Noah was playing rookie ball, and Luke was on a 12U team. Brian became the fair weather ball parent. I became the parent who sits on the sidelines covered in dust, hoodies and a blanket in early spring, and dust. sweat and sunblock in the summer.

Noah and his Bumble Bees.

Luke and Brian...first year without Dad as his coach, but Dad had the gear!

I whined about every single game I had to attend.  I cheered my sons, but texted complainey messages to my friends between action. I whined about the weather. I complained about the bleachers. I carried on about how amazingly bored I was.

Finally, after almost five months of baseball (times two teams...that's a lot of texting) Noah finished his season and Luke was headed to the season ending tournament. My obligation to baseball was ending for the year.

No more sideline bug bites.

No more wind/sun/anger at annoying parents burn.

No more of  the toddler in the stroller at every game with the Justin Beiber doll. That sang! Over and over and over....she obviously loved that doll. I wanted the boys to use it for batting practice.

The tournament was at a town a full half hour away. This, of course, was fodder for more complaining. And our team, normally nine boys, was going to be short. Seven boys playing full teams that, for the most part, had beat us during the season.

"How are they going to play with only seven kids?" my friend asked me when I moaned about it.

Good question.

The answer?

In the first game they beat the other full team 15-3.

This win was especially satisfying because the opposing coach decided to pull out the rule book in the last inning and question if our boys should be penalized runs for not having a full team.

My feeling was that HIS team should be penalized runs for having such a poor sport for a coach. Thankfully, the rule had been changed this year and our team whupped his.(Ok, that was poor sportsmanship, too...I'll own that.)

The second game our team of  seven - including one kid with a broken arm in a cast- was victorious over a team of nine (who came to the field sporting some kinda freaky militaristic chanting...I was almost waiting for them to start high stepping around the bases). Final score 11-1.

The third game was a nail biter. Only six of our boys could make the game. Broken Arm Kid was one of the six, and the temperature was soaring into the 100's. Of course, the other team was a full team of nine. Going into the last half of the last inning, our team was down by two runs.  I found myself not cheering the end of the game as I normally would--but cheering the six 12 year-old boys taking their last turn at bat.

So how did that work out for our boys?

Don't you want to know about the family of the broken arm kid? The WHOLE family came to every game. Mom, Dad, two girls and a set of grandparents cheered from the sidelines even when Broken Arm Kid couldn't play because his arm was so badly broken he had to get a new cast every other day.

Don't you want to know about the cute, cheerleader 13 year-old who was our teams scorekeeper and would go to the dugout and offer a pep talk to the boys?

Don't you want to know about the great conversations Luke and I had during our hour in the car when he didn't have to be cool, and could just chat with his mom?

OK. Our team of six boys with 11 working arms..................... won! 11-9!

I couldn't explain the win to Brian. The fielding was pretty bad, giganto holes in the outfield. Every time Broken Arm Kid got to bat, he could only stand at the ready and not swing, hoping for a walk. Our best pitcher was on vacation. The pitcher and catcher were overworked and very tired. It was freaky, scary, Why Are We Playing hot.

But we did.

The outcome of the tournament has yet to be determined, but the remarkable first three games created a feeling of winning pride for everyone involved in the team. Including this non-sporty, no longer baseball hating Mom.

I was expecting more from you....

This is the line that I imagine people who read this blog say. You are expecting more. More entries. More pictures. More chuckles.

Line forms here, baby!

I was expecting more from me, too. But, I did say that my posts would be sporadic and only when I had something I wanted to say without a filter.

*****Shameless plugs for the places where you can read more from me on a regular basis*****

(You do realize you can read posts on both Mom2MomKC (I am the Saturday Featured Blogger- go to the blogs tab and look for the picture that looks like me if I had smoothed out my wild hair and put on makeup) and  The Kansas City Star (new posts on Wednesday). Also, you can be a part of the excitement of historically based girl talk by subscribing to The History Chicks on itunes or going to our website. And - heavy sigh- I'm on twitter @essephvee . Or however you write the twitter name. I may very well be the worst tweeter in the world. Seriously. It's comical how awful I am...I mean, comical if it weren't so pathetic.)

**************Plug over*****************

But here is my reason for this post. What's going on with me is fairly boring--this summer has been filled with surgeries and illness and middle class financial responsibilities--- hasn't been filled with much fun and laughter. Right now, for instance, Noah and I are home on a Sunday morning because both of us have strep. We are not contagious, but he has the rash still-- as well as one from a drug allergy to the first med he was on. And I have that side effect from strong antibiotics that kill the good bacteria in my belly. Lovely. Yeah, that's the story of my summer. 

Who wants to read about that? Oh sure, it's funny that I forgot that the last time he was on this med (about a month ago) the doc thought he might be allergic and I totally spaced when we went to urgent care this time--- and was shocked to see a rash the next day, so I paid another co-pay to take him to his regular doc who had it right there in his chart." May be allergic to..."  Bonehead Mom Award. yay.

And the thrill my kids got when I FINALLY joined the 20-tweens and signed us up for Netflix was embarrassingly entertaining. Really, when the highlight of a summer is getting every episode of Billy the Exterminator, H2O or 1000 Ways to Die streamed to the wii---well, it's a pretty dry summer, ya know? That just gives a glimmer as to what is going on with me.

But what is going on with YOU? Is my boring rubbing off in my posts? Am I not controversial enough? Fine- I am not. Ok, that's a given...but I just told you I let my kids watch 1000 Ways to Die! It's a horrible show! I let my kids eat sugary cereals and have days when we have s'more eating contests, too! And let them ride scooters without helmets on! And..and...they watch way too much TV. On NICE days! Yeah, ok, I'm not controversial.

But am I boring?

I see you, you know. Ok, not YOU--I don't see you, I don't know who you are or anything...but I can see how many people come here and- not to brag- it's way more than just the followers list. Yeah, I'm no dooce (everyone bow), or Pioneer Woman...no one is going to be asking me to write a book based on this blog. But I do ok for the purpose here.

But the comment section is kinda light.

Here is the thing: blogggers like me, here, we get paid in hits and comments. It's like the dollars and cents of our work. It's how we know we are being heard and entertaining or enlightening or making you feel like a better person than us which is totally ok, too.

Maybe we are using our blogs as a place to vomit out our thoughts into the great wide beyond. (Guilty) 

Maybe we are hoping to polish our craft to someday make some real coin.( Guilty)

 Maybe we are hoping to just find out if there are any Meeee Toooooos out there and give voice to the common mistakes and lessons we all face so we don't feel like the crappiest mom on the planet (Totally and completely guilty).

But we like some response.

And I am totally lacking in response. And it's beginning to eat away at my already fragile ego. *whimper*

I'm going to throw some random pictures of things of this summer out there now, because we all like pictures, right? Plus it might give you something to comment on. ( Most pathetic hint ever..and you thought the pimp up there was bad!).

Luke's idea of a white button down shirt and tie: three button golf shirt and clip on tie. For a choir concert. He was so proud of this that he took his own picture--with my camera. I guess that meant he wanted everyone to see him. (And a glimpse of my messy kitchen/ Does ANYONE know how to close cabinet doors!?)

Noah not only has entirely too many shoes for a 6 year old boy, but his organizational powers both thrill and concern me.

My area of geekspertise is gardening. And these are my gardening shoes. Nasty, huh? God, I love slipping my feet into those shoes.

This tree is struggling to survive because my genius husband decided the best way to avoid weed whacking was to outline my yard and around the trees...with Round-up.

Bekah will be going to high school. This is the night of her middle school graduation. She is having some issues, the least of which is that her mom makes her pose in public places by goofy signs.

Hope that your summer is going well, and better than mine--comment and tell me how pathetic my summer and comment plea is!!!

hearts.

Watch me fail at a round of Pollyanna Catch Up

Summer has begun here at Casa Vollenweider. I can't say that it has been all that fun, or enjoyable---yet. Well, I could say it but I would be lying my ass off.

It's been...tolerable.

But I'm totally a Pollyanna, so let's not wallow in the pathetic--me whining about all the things that are keeping the kids and I from having the best summer of our lives. Let's just say my kids are learning some very valuable life lessons. The big things aren't what is annoying me the most, it's the little ones.

Yoohooo! Pollyanna?

Right.

Everyone is still standing and fairly healthy.

Although Brian has some sort of ear infection that has had him hopped up on pain meds and hearing only out of one ear for over a month now. Do you know how frustrating it is to properly word something, say it with the proper inflection,pronunciation and SAT word choices only to have the person look at you and say, "What? I didn't hear any of that!"?

So you break it down to the 8th grade words and take out a few sentences.

And then they say," I only got half of that, WHAT!?"

So you break it down even farther to the base elements of thought and the simplest of vocabulary and the loudest volume and it usually comes out, " bite me."

THAT they hear.

But I'm being optimistic here. Concentrating on the good. He's going to the doc on Monday. For the 4th time.

Bekah graduated Middle School. In August she will head off to the big scary High School with the super confusing drop-off lane and continue on her journey as a member of the Class of 2015.

I think her graduation ceremony last month was a good experience for all of us. She got to stand up a couple of times and be acknowledged for working hard. She stood up for applause more than some kids, not as many as others but it's not a competition. That's not the point. Education is not competitive.

Someone should tell that to some of those parents. It wasn't ugly, but some parents got to write bios for their hard working kids. Ok, one was kind of embarrassing...really, he's 14- just hit us with the highlights we don't need to know--nevermind, don't want to embarrass the kid more. Mom was proud. I could tell. I think that was one of her bullet points. Right after early walking and before "Active member of his church youth group".

One more time and then I will shut up: education and loving your kid is not a competitive sport. Sure some kids get the awards, but the real reward should be the education itself. And every parent loves their kid the same. Deeply. And, all...most...of them work just as hard as the kid standing up. Maybe harder. Maybe they have an anxiety disorder and freak out when tested. Maybe they broke their leg and studied at home and the teacher never recorded all the late work even though the kid is the best big sister ever to a whole lot of siblings. Maybe..yeah, maybe that, too. But did we get to hear those bios? No. We did not.

What did I learn? I'm bring an ipod to her high school graduation or someone is going to get hurt.

POLLYANNA... come on, Susan...cheer it up!

I've been gardening. That's fun for me. Finally got the cute seasonal flowerbed planted. Only I forgot to put the cat repellent on it and one of our neighborhood feral cats crapped on my moss rose and vinca the first night.

Speaking of gardening, I solved a horticultural mystery last week. I have two fairly large Catalpa trees in my backyard. Of of them was slow to leaf and when it did, only half the tree had leaves. Last week the other tree began to lose leaves en masse.

 At first I thought it was the feral cats using the trees as a scratching post. Then I thought maybe some sort of fungus, or pest....oh yeah, pest. Let's go with that. Someone, in his infinite wisdom, decided to spray Round-up around the base so that he wouldn't have to weed whack it.

Nice.

Maybe I should stop now, go smell some roses, put on the happy glasses and fill a cup half full. It's a glorious day at Casa Vollenweider the sun is shining, the kids are healthy and there's new growth on the first catalpa that Brian poisoned.

Mom Hair Cuts: As Bad as You Think

There are two versions to this tale, Luke's and The Truth.

Luke claims he came to me and asked me to de-boof (thin) the sides of his hair.

My version (ie: The Truth) indeed has him coming to me, but he asked for a cut like Brian has. I know this cut because I do it for Brian. #3 buzz.

I put the #3 guide on the electric clippers and zap his whole head.

But Luke has had long, shaggy hair all his life. It's been his style, and I like how it looks on him. Suits his wild and goofy personality. He had come to me several times, and I told him "maybe" which, in this house, means, "I highly doubt it but I don't want to tell you why now."

But the other day he got me in a wild mood.

   "Mom, can you cut my hair like Dad's?"

   "No, but I will give you a #4 which is just a little longer. Go get the clippers."

He was back with the cutting stuff and a chair in a nanosecond, very eager to get this done. The other kids stood around because they knew this was going to be entertaining. We didn't let him look in any reflective surfaces until he was standing in front of the bathroom mirror.

Because a picture is worth -- you know, a lot of words--you can easily read this story:

Yeah, that worked out pretty well.

It's not all glitz and glamor

It's 8:00 AM. We have been up for a bit over an hour and I am ready to go back to bed and sleep. Until 2015. Or maybe later if I can figure out a snooze option to accomplish that.

My ears are bleeding from the whining.

I've already yelled once to turn the damn wii off if they can't agree on anything. And twice now " LANGUAGE!" has shot towards them.

There is a small mountain of laundry forming that I need to fold, and another ready to take it's place in the process of getting cleaned.

I have some chores for today that I normally enjoy-- gardening, mowing-- and it's a nice day. But bed seems like such a great option.

When I look at my To Do list for today, I am pretty sure there is little time for me to be sitting here, drinking coffee and typing. But, to be truthful and painfully honest, that is the only thing that holds any appeal at this moment. I mean, besides the go back to bed option.

I am completely overwhelmed and shutting down and not really sure how to climb out of it.

I won't go into the boring details but suffice it to say that we are in a deep gully in a 20 year marriage, 2/3 of my kids are going through the complex, mood-swingy emotions and dramas of teenagerhood- and the third one is six which may as well be 13 for all the attitude he spouts forth. I have been a SAHM for 15 years and my husband has decided that the best course of action for our family would be for me to find a job.

Not a part time job; not a work on it for a future payoff job ( I already have those)- a "real" 40+hr a week job.

Huh?

He feels that his job, plus a full time of mine, will give us the proper balance of time with the kids, and energy spent in maintaining not only our current lifestyle, but also our savings. He feels that he can pick up where I will have to leave off at home- how hard is it?  Bitch slap worthy commentary aside, he might have a point. I guess I would be willing to look for full time work. Except that I can't answer the question: What type of work are you looking for?

I have no freaking idea.

Ask Mr Know-it-all and he will tell you one that pays $X salary.

It must be great to be a Left- Brained person.

No, really. Bottom lining, being all logical all the time? It must be great.

But us Right Brainers, we don't work that way. And when the Lefties start pointing out the obvious, and why can't we see that? Well, I won't speak for all of us, but I shut down.

Usually I am really great good at looking at things with rose colored glasses, seeing the optimism in a situation--I've always liked that about myself. But right now, the boys are STILL fighting over the damn video games, my ears are still bleeding, and that laundry hasn't folded itself-- and that is just the share with the public version. There is more, quite a bit actually, but I have already crossed my personal sharing line. Let's just leave it at: I'm not feeling very optimistic. I'm downright negative, actually.

That should help me get a job, don't you think?

I'm not really a crappy blogger

I have this flower bed right in front of my porch. It's small, maybe a yard square, but it's important in my landscape because it breaks up a sea of concrete and is really the focal point of my entryway.

I like to put a colorful display of annuals in this space. Usually only one or two colors carefully placed  together for impact. I get a lot of compliments on this tiny bed, so I guess I'm doing the right thing. I don't like to put bulbs in the bed because I like to fill it with annuals as soon as the ground is ready. If I have spring bloomers in there, I have to wait for them to pass, and the annuals get a slower start.

But last fall I felt some change in the air. On a whim, I picked up a variety of bulbs at my local *name of a big store that has has low prices everyday and needs no more advertising*, dug criscrossy troughs in the bed, and randomly tossed the bulbs in them. Sorta lazy, sorta trusty, sorta let the bulbs fall where they may and enjoy them there.

Nothing orderly about that!

The first crocuses appeared a couple of months ago. Followed by a natural looking display of daffodils, and now these tulips have opened. If I think about it, there probably should have been more for impact. They are stunning in color, but have to be appreciated on a small scale because there are only a few of them. I see some other buds in there, ready to expose themselves in floral glory, but truthfully, I can't remember what they are. It's a surprise. And I planted it.

Kind of like my life. Everyday is a surprise. It's not that I am lazy, it's not that I don't have things planned--but I am opening  myself to the randmoness that life is tossing my way. I am appreciating the beauty in it. Trying to, anyway.

My life is nothing like it was a year ago, it even changes month to month. Some good, some bad. some ordinary, some surprising, all beautiful in some way. Sometimes I just have to tilt my head to the side, or narrow my focus to see that beauty.

I only put blogs on here that I love. I'm not writing about specific things, or for a specific audience--I just let them fall randomly. I hope that you appreciate them for what they are: a snapshop of that moment of my life.

WAHM SAHM Thank you M'am!

I read an article recently, it talked about SAHMs who make a leap to WAHMs. How this was a growing trend, how finding work at home can solve a lot of problems--someone is home when the kids get home, there is more income, mom has a flexible schedule, etc. The article also talked about how it CREATES some issues--mom's workspace, mom's worktime, mom not staring at the laundry when she should be working thinking, "when is the laundry fairy coming"?

Ok, I made up that last one. But I am making that leap. Now, never ever ever would I call myself trendy.I am the antithesis of trendy...the anit-trend. But this time, I am totally riding the trend. Kowabunga!

But it's hard, to be truthful. I'm not very good at dropping all my SAHM chores, all my SAHM responsibilities,  so I end up being really, really  Over Mom Guilted, and really, really overworked.  But hey, it's 2011-- overworked is the new 21.

WHAT?

See? Overworked. I'm mixing metaphors as I watch my 6 year old play wii in front of me, singing Millionaire. With the cuss words. It's Friday and my bathrooms aren't clean yet-- and my fridge died the other day and it still has quite a bit of rotting food in it. Maybe it didn't die-the fridge coroner has not been out yet to call time of death, the thing is still under warranty SINCE IT IS ONLY TWO MONTHS OLD, so maybe it's just in a coma. Anyway---let's just leave it like this: I am letting a few things slide.

Like this blog. Dang, I love this blog. So I'm not giving it up. NO FREAKING way ( huh, where do the kids get that language, I wonder?) But my posts are not as frequent as as they used to be..or will be again. I will be posting more. I need to give a voice to us WAHMs with a SAHM complex. We need to be heard! I need to be that voice and say things like:

ARRGGHHH!!!

I'M LATE!! GETINTHEVANNOWNOWNOW!!

WAHOOO, PAYCHECK... CRUD, BILLS!

HOW DID IT GET TO BE 9O'CLOCK AT NIGHT AND I"M STILL IN MY JAMMIES AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY!???!

and of course,

WHERE IS THE DAMN LAUNDRY FAIRY!!???