The last week of school was, to say the very least, busy. Crazy busy. The kind of busy where your home is the just place you drop off all your stuff because, wisely, no one else will allow that amount of crap into their household. After you drop your stuff, you lay your head on pillow, sleep, wakeup, change your clothes, pick up new crap, and leave. Well, repeat this for four days times four kids who do not hold cleanliness next to godliness, minus one husband, plus two extra kids, and you can only imagine how un-Better-Homes-and-Garden-like the house looked on Friday morning.
However, there was simple act of kindness my children were going to perform that day before we left for Jon's soccer game and Lauren left for her sleepover, even if it killed me. They were going to do it even if I had to take away every privilege they had ever earned, short of me taking away the air they breathed. My children were going to clean the family room so their father, my husband, could watch Game 7 of the Stanley Cup without risk of breaking his leg when he jumped up to yell at the TV.
Now, considering the mess was primarily that of the kids, this was not an unreasonable request/do it or watch your mother go over the edge demand. Also considering that I was primarily responsible for shuttling them all over Stevens Point, chaperoning their field trips, feeding them, and giving birth to them, that family room was going to be presentable because: "I SAID SO, SO LET'S GO!" (For the curious, that is a direct quote.) The kids were not happy. I was even unhappier; as my kids have come to realize when Mom swallows her "cranky pills" it's best to just ride out the storm and do what they are told to do.
I left Rich a voice mail telling the rest of the house was trashed BUT he had a very clean space in which to watch the game; enjoy. He was thrilled even if the kids were perplexed by how weird and "unfair" it was to get a room ready just for Dad.
Well, if they were confused and disoriented by that amount of housekeeping, I have bad news for them on Monday morning! It is going to be all hands on deck, all units reporting, and a full clean sweep of the Tolbert household. I promise any screams you hear from this house will be from me and not the from the children, as they will be too busy inventing excuses to get out of work to muster up the energy to scream.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Sports Mom
School is out for the summer and everyone keeps asking me what our "plans" are for the 82 days that consist of the kids vacation. Other than shuttling kids to soccer, baseball, play dates, and one trip to South Dakota, I really have no idea. Honestly, I am so not that mom. I want to be that mom with the crafts and arts projects, days planned to the beach, trips planned to the park, and healthy snacks ready to go, but I am more of the mom who wakes up and says, "Wow, it's not raining, everyone out of their pajamas so we can go to the park...and don't forget the water because I am too cheap to buy soda!"
The kids are attending summer school because they begged me to enroll them in it and made me fill out the papers. Noah felt like I robbed him out of a life experience by not letting him attend summer school last year. Lauren is just excited that she is a 5K girl (kindergartner) now and will be going to Washington School with her brothers. She is going to be a nut all summer asking me about the first day of school. She already thinks I am lying to her about the fact there is no school for a week. (Wait until middle school Lauren, just wait.)
Jonathon is playing competitive soccer again this year. He plays for a traveling team and I cannot believe the schedule my son has this week. In addition to a Tuesday and Thursday game, it is a tournament weekend, so he will play three games this weekend, with the possibility of two more for the championship. What amazes me is Jonathon, and all the boys on the team for that matter, come fully prepared to play the five games. I know it is an obvious thing to say, I mean, who comes to a sporting event prepared to lose, but it is amazing to watch these 10 and 11 year boys working their tails off, hustling after a soccer ball, listening to directions from coaches, advice from the sidelines, remembering what to do, giving it their all, for FIVE games in three days, in the rain, in the cold, in the sun, and even in the sleet or snow.
(I will say that soccer is something that Jonathon (unlike me) WANTS to do and is not forced to do, so I am sure that makes a huge difference in his attitude.)
Noah and Brandon have tried soccer and they, well, to sum up Noah's feelings about the sport in the middle of the field with all the parents watching my kid, "I HATE SOCCER!" They come to Jon's games, along with Lauren, and roam the fields with other siblings like a band of soccer orphans. For an hour this band of gypsy children are told very supportive phrases like, "Go in the van and play your DS!" or "Sit behind the chairs!" or "Go play in the empty field with the other kids, stop pestering me so I can watch your brothers game!" Sometimes, during very intense games, we as parents buy them off at half time with junk food from the concession stand if it is open. We aren't proud: We are soccer parents and hockey parents have nothing on us when it comes to craziness, fanaticism, or the lengths of the states we are willing to travel to allow our kids the opportunity to compete.
Noah and Brandon participate in baseball and T-all respectively. Noah enjoys baseball because he is with his friend James; he is not a competitive sports person. Time will tell if he will ever have that "spark" or if other passions will take over his life. Brandon is crazy athletic. He is like every six year old on the team: One minute spot on, running, fielding, perfect form, and the next drawing in the dirt, looking at an airplane in the sky, or waving to me. Really, they should pay parents to let their kids participate in T-ball.
Lauren is our dancer. When Lauren dances it is like every day is Christmas for her and the world stops turning. I cannot believe how much one dance class once a week brought Lauren out of her shell. She pillaes (sp?), ballerina jumps, and padashas all over the house. Her special dance leotards hang in my closet so they don't "get junky (her words)." I signed her up for Jazz to go along with Ballet next year and she is out of her mind excited for that to start too.
So, the kids are growing and leading active lives. It is one sport per child per season and that barely saves on sanity. Fortunately, we have some incredibly awesome friends on the boys' teams that are willing to help us out with carpooling and surrogate parenting when Rich is out of town and I cannot morph to be two places at once.
Sorry, I have to end this post. I think it's my night to bring snack.
The kids are attending summer school because they begged me to enroll them in it and made me fill out the papers. Noah felt like I robbed him out of a life experience by not letting him attend summer school last year. Lauren is just excited that she is a 5K girl (kindergartner) now and will be going to Washington School with her brothers. She is going to be a nut all summer asking me about the first day of school. She already thinks I am lying to her about the fact there is no school for a week. (Wait until middle school Lauren, just wait.)
Jonathon is playing competitive soccer again this year. He plays for a traveling team and I cannot believe the schedule my son has this week. In addition to a Tuesday and Thursday game, it is a tournament weekend, so he will play three games this weekend, with the possibility of two more for the championship. What amazes me is Jonathon, and all the boys on the team for that matter, come fully prepared to play the five games. I know it is an obvious thing to say, I mean, who comes to a sporting event prepared to lose, but it is amazing to watch these 10 and 11 year boys working their tails off, hustling after a soccer ball, listening to directions from coaches, advice from the sidelines, remembering what to do, giving it their all, for FIVE games in three days, in the rain, in the cold, in the sun, and even in the sleet or snow.
(I will say that soccer is something that Jonathon (unlike me) WANTS to do and is not forced to do, so I am sure that makes a huge difference in his attitude.)
Noah and Brandon have tried soccer and they, well, to sum up Noah's feelings about the sport in the middle of the field with all the parents watching my kid, "I HATE SOCCER!" They come to Jon's games, along with Lauren, and roam the fields with other siblings like a band of soccer orphans. For an hour this band of gypsy children are told very supportive phrases like, "Go in the van and play your DS!" or "Sit behind the chairs!" or "Go play in the empty field with the other kids, stop pestering me so I can watch your brothers game!" Sometimes, during very intense games, we as parents buy them off at half time with junk food from the concession stand if it is open. We aren't proud: We are soccer parents and hockey parents have nothing on us when it comes to craziness, fanaticism, or the lengths of the states we are willing to travel to allow our kids the opportunity to compete.
Noah and Brandon participate in baseball and T-all respectively. Noah enjoys baseball because he is with his friend James; he is not a competitive sports person. Time will tell if he will ever have that "spark" or if other passions will take over his life. Brandon is crazy athletic. He is like every six year old on the team: One minute spot on, running, fielding, perfect form, and the next drawing in the dirt, looking at an airplane in the sky, or waving to me. Really, they should pay parents to let their kids participate in T-ball.
Lauren is our dancer. When Lauren dances it is like every day is Christmas for her and the world stops turning. I cannot believe how much one dance class once a week brought Lauren out of her shell. She pillaes (sp?), ballerina jumps, and padashas all over the house. Her special dance leotards hang in my closet so they don't "get junky (her words)." I signed her up for Jazz to go along with Ballet next year and she is out of her mind excited for that to start too.
So, the kids are growing and leading active lives. It is one sport per child per season and that barely saves on sanity. Fortunately, we have some incredibly awesome friends on the boys' teams that are willing to help us out with carpooling and surrogate parenting when Rich is out of town and I cannot morph to be two places at once.
Sorry, I have to end this post. I think it's my night to bring snack.
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