heyMamas

Oh my gawd

My friend found this picture on Facebook and sent it to me.  This is my grade school class in Long Island and I almost died when I saw it.  Although I don't remember what grade I was in when it was taken, I do actually remember the day. 

My friends and I were sitting right up in the front, but I wouldn't ever dare tell you which ones we were.  Never.  Ever.

Machine guns and coffee

The welcoming committee when I stepped off the subway this morning wasn't playing around.  There were about ten police officers with loaded machine guns in their hands and army helmets on their heads, just standing around by the exits to the subway station.  

The last time I saw a scene like this was over ten years ago when I was in the Metro in Paris.   I remember being so scared when I first saw them standing there with their guns.  I had never had a machine gun in such close proximity to my body.  At the time, I just figured this is how things must be done in foreign countries.  It was quite uncomfortable to me, but perhaps to the normal Parisian it was just another ride in the Metro.

This morning I was startled at the sight of them, but at the same time I felt oddly empowered having these police officers on guard right there in the subway, right below my building.  I felt protected, scared and proud all at the same time.

Early delivery

Dear Lily,

I have already posted a story about how you came to be the proud owner of a brand new shiny white Nintendo DS two months before Christmas, but I just wanted to tell you how cute you are and how much I love and adore you.  You have said thank you to me about three thousand times in the last two weeks, which is not your usual MO.  Not that you are not thankful for all that we bestow on you, you are, but a slight nudge is sometimes required.    

You have been enjoying your Nintendo immensely.  Texting with your sister, playing together with your friends at school, sharing it with even more friends and having the internal satisfaction of finally being old enough to have your very own DS and not having to borrow Belle's anymore.  You are quite blessed though to have a sister as generous as she is, because you practically played her DS more than she did.

Your night time pledges of love have seen a slight uptick since the arrival of this new gift.  Last night you looked in my eyes and said,

"Mama, I can't even tell you this."  And you coyly diverted your eyes away from mine.  And I said, "What baby, what can't you tell me?  You know you can always tell me anything."   

You responded, "I think I love you more than God, but I don't want him to get mad at me for saying that, or hearing me say that outloud."  

I said, "First of all my love, God won't hear you say that and second, God would never be mad at you for loving your Mama more than him.  That is why he is God, he doesn't get mad." 

Content with that answer, you started back up with the serious face, darting eyes, and the declarations of love.  "I just love you so much, and that was so, so, so, so, so, so sweet of you to give me my DS so early before Christmas."

Based on all of the thank you's and the extra love that I have been receiving these last few days, I am very glad that I made the decision that I did.  I wish you many happy laps around the Mario Brothers track. 

Love always,

Mama

 

Update on the brand new shiny white early Christmas present Nintendo DS:  Before I had the chance to publish this post, you lost your DS.  You left it on top of your school bag in after-school and some sticky fingers swiped it.  We realized the DS was missing when we got home and headed back to school to search for it.  And searched we did, high and low and it was nowhere in sight.  Lucky for you, we got it back from the principal the next day.  

(C'mon now people, they do go to Catholic school.)

Outlook, bleak

Tomorrow is the last day of a Series 7 intensive prep class that I have been going to all week.  It has been a major struggle to get through it and I feel more confused than I did before I even went to the class.  It's almost as if the teacher has managed to single-handedly strip  me of all the information that I had put into my head prior to the class, over the last six weeks.  

I do realize that it sounds as if I am blaming the teacher for my struggles in his class and maybe I am, I am not even sure myself at this point because my head is spinning too fast to make sense of anything.  While delivering the course content, this teacher has spoken faster than anyone I have ever heard speak before except perhaps for an auctioneer.  I think an auctioneer and only an auctioneer, might have a slight lead on this guy but he definitely comes in a close second. 

It doesn't help that I am not in front of my computer all day, every day, for an ENTIRE week.  I am used to being in front of my computer.  I am comfortable being in front of my computer.  Being connected to the world, having my Outlook calendar opened, my email displayed and my favorite blogs minimized at the bottom of my screen, that is comfort to me.  I feel so disconnected from the world sitting in this classroom with a teacher that actually thinks that I can keep up with all of this mumbo jumbo coming out of his mouth at lightening speeds. 

It also doesn't help that the class is located so far down the island of Manhattan that it is practically sitting on the steps of the Statue of Liberty.  There is nothing going on down there at all.  It seems so bleak.  There is not one retail store in sight and that fact alone is so very depressing.  There are a handful of tall black and silver buildings.  The building that I am in is located right above the entrance to a tunnel, I think it may be the Holland Tunnel. 

When we take a break, which is usually about forty-five minutes past the scheduled break time, I sit and watch all of the cars whipping through the entrance to the tunnel making their escape from this bleak downtown existence.  I wonder where they are all going, right in the middle of the day, so fast through that tunnel. 

Who knows, maybe all of this bleakness wouldn't seem so bleak if it were eighty degrees and sunny?  Maybe this is more a case of seasonal affect disorder rearing its ugly head and not so  much the fact that I hate studying for the Series 7 exam in a tall silver building at the southern most tip of the greatest city in the world. 

The best possible outcome

I have been mentioning soccer on and off for a couple of weeks now, but have never fully delved into what soccer translates into in our household.  The long and short of it is, soccer is our entire Fall.  It starts the weekend after Labor Day and goes until mid-November.  Belle and Lily both play on a team and each girl's team plays one game Saturday and one game on Sunday. 

For those of you doing the math, we are looking at four games per weekend for roughly ten weeks.  That is forty soccer games.  Forty trips to and from the soccer field.  Forty trips to the soccer field lugging two chairs and lots of other miscellaneous soccer crap.  Forty trips to the soccer field filled up with snacks and juices, water and Gatorade.  Forty requests for candy and other treats at the snack shack.  Forty, forty, forty, that is alot of soccer games.

Soccer in our town is a major doing.  The league consisted of fifty seven soccer teams and had a headcount of over seven hundred and fifty kids that participated.

Drew and I are the type of parents that go to every. single. game.  We watch, cheer and enjoy our girls running around competing while learning about teamwork.  A large part of the enjoyment and perhaps the prime motivation in signing the girls up for sports, is watching them run up and down the field and inside secretly hoping that when we arrive home they are so tired they can barely walk....that never happened once. 

Drew and I have both come from athletic backgrounds and we have a sincere belief  in the fundamentals that are taught through sports.  I was able to stay out of a great deal of trouble in my younger years by participating in my sport.  I had a respect for my body and always treated it in a way that allowed me to perform at the level that was necessary. 

The same goes for Drew.  Drew was a football player and the physical demands on his mind and body were huge.  Soccer and now basketball, are time commitments that we are happy to make.  There are of course those weekends, which I do believe I have bitched about here before, where it all just gets to be too much. 

Belle's team performed well the entire season and in many games were the team to beat.  They had a husband and wife coaching team which proved to be a highly effective duo with the kids.  They had just the right mix of positivity and encouragement.  They were dedicated and genuinely cared about the girls.  They didn't only play the good players.  They rotated each and every girl into and out of each and every position.  They were focused on the big picture of what soccer should be and not just caught up in winning every game.  

Turns out Belle's team made the playoffs.  They played the playoff game last Sunday at 9am.  They played an extremely exciting game and emerged victorious.  Because rain had played a role in ruining a few playing days, they had to play the championship game that very same night.   It started at five o'clock which thanks to daylight savings is quite dark at this time of year in New York.  So they played the game under the lights. 

Let me tell you, THIS WAS AN EXCITING GAME.  The sidelines were packed with parents and friends watching the much anticipated championship game.  There were some spectators very excited for us and other spectators very excited to hopefully see us lose.  As I have previously stated, soccer in our town is taken quite seriously. 

The game, the night, the whole day was perfect.  The perfect ending to a great season.  Each girl reached from deep within and played their hearts out.  Each girl played their season best.  My little Belle, who has had her defensive gem moments, had a phenomenal play (coaches words, I swear), where she ran into our unattended goal and blocked a shot on goal, kicking it clear into mid- field.   

This is a game we will not soon forget.  We followed it up with pizza then ice cream with the whole team.  What a great experience for Belle, as well as Lily, as she too participated in all of the festivities that followed that Championship game under those sparkling lights.