One season ends, and another begins.

More specifically, in this case, soccer season.

Running, dribbling, passing, (hopefully) scoring ….

A older division, a larger playing field, more players on the field at the same time, and new rules, like offsides and um … other things we don’t understand yet.

The bigger field means we need to become better at passing, and not playing cluster-ball as much.  We’re back to practices twice a week (which is good, since our twice-a-week basketball practices are over and what on EARTH would mom and dad do with all that free time?!) and new players on the team gives the girls a chance to make new friends, which is always nice.

But most importantly …. the burning question …. most pressing of all ………

Do you think its too soon to put Kendrie and her friend Katrina on human growth hormone therapy?  Look how short they are compared to the team they are playing against …..  I guess its a good thing she likes soccer, and doesn’t have her college dreams pinned on a basketball scholarship.  (sigh)

One of Kellen’s favorite book series is “Gregor the Overlander”.  Its a set of stories about a boy who accidentally falls through a NYC laundry drain (?) and discovers an entire under-world, where people live, and compete for survival, with various animal species.  Warm, cuddly, smurf-able animals, like rats, mice, cockroaches, scorpions, spiders, snakes, etc.  Many of these animal are human-size and can communicate with the humans, although pretty much every species’ survival depends on them carving out their own space in the underworld, even if that means fighting the other species to the death with their bare hands.  Or claws.  Or stingers.  Or whatever.

Very warm and fuzzy, no?

Kellen, well, he got a wee bit obsessed.  It started out innocently enough.  His second quarter book report requirement was a diorama and he chose this book, so we bought a few plastic animals, grabbed a shoe box, and he went to town.  He’s always been one for staging ginormous battles ….. when he was younger it was legos, blocks, and army men, then he got into Gormities (sp?).  He loves Risk, and after reading Gregor (reading the series twice, I might add, for fun) and seeing how much fun he had staging the diorama, he convinved us to take him to Party Bazaar to spend the bulk of his allowance money buying dozens more creatures so he could recreate the scenes in the book. 

I suppose some people might think that’s silly, especially for a boy who is almost 12, but personally, I love it.  Beats sitting in front of the Nintendo all day, playing video games, if you ask me.

The only problem is, he doesn’t quite understand why I am not equally as fascintated.  He will stage elaborate battles, and ask me who I think will win, or who I think will come in second, depending on strategy and location and fighting ability.  We must dissect in great detail the strengths and weaknesses of the animals and the Underlanders …… rats have claws, but not all rats are as vicious as Ripred. Do I think the Bain is fierce, or pathetic?   Do I understand that the cockroaches are not as lazy as the other species think they are?  Does Photo Glo-Glo bug me as much as he bugs Kellen?  Do ants have an advantage since they outnumber everyone else?  Surely bats have the upper hand since they can fly above the battles???   I’ve read Gregor, yes, the entire series.  And I enjoyed it.  But how do I explain to my son that I DO NOT GIVE A FLYING RIP WHO WINS THE FIGHT — ANY OF THE  FIGHTS.  

Especially when THIS is the view each morning as I sit down to breakfast???

The good news is after a week or so, the animals will go back in their rubbermaid bin, and won’t be seen again for weeks.  Or even months.  Until Kellen gets another urge to stage an Underlander battle.  Then he’ll drag them out and start all over again.

Remind me again, what I have against video games???

Since moving over from Caringbridge, and then Blogger, and now to this Wordpress blog, I’m suddenly the lucky recipient of spam.  Not the canned meat variety, but the comment variety.  While I don’t really remember getting much spam on the other blogs, I do here.  Quite a few, each day.  In fact, some days I get more spam comments than I do “real” comments, which is a tad bit depressing. 

Do I really need to know where to buy meds cheaper than anywhere else on the planet?  Especially viagra and cialis?  Which I’m not even sure if I spelled them correctly??

And trust me, I don’t need artificial turf on my blog.

Or where the best online gambling sites are?

Since I don’t read Russian, those comments are pretty worthless.

And I really don’t think my penis needs enlarging, but maybe that’s just me … dainty and delicate.

Most spam comments are easy to figure out, wanting me to click over to a site to buy something.  I love the WordPress feature that identifies these comments as spam and keeps them from going through ….. delete, delete, delete.  But the other day, I got one that even I don’t understand:

“The woman must bear children and the man must be tattooed”

That was all it said.  From a tattoo parlor, yes, but what is that part about the woman must bear children?  Sounds fairly primal to me.

So I’m sharing, for fun, but rest assured ….. delete.

You really need to go here.

And read all the way through, then watch the videos, because that is the cool part.  Well, no, the cool part is this family, period. 

Way to go, Eammon and Declan …. hope you raise tons of money!  (although you sure won’t have to spend any of it on shampoo for a while.)   Ha!

Kellen and his cousin Landon played in the same basketball league this winter, but their teams were in different divisions.  Kellen’s team was exactly where it should be ….. they won about half their games.  The majority of the games they won, they won by a fairly close margin.  Same for the games they lost.  No one got discouraged, no one got over confident.  It was a good season, overall, a fair balance of winning and losing, against teams of the same skill level.

Landon’s team, well, bless their little hearts.  Last year they were ranked in a division that was too easy for them and they won all their games handily.  Like, by 20 or 30 points a game.  And while it’s always more fun to win ………. well ………. even winning can get old when its handed to you on a platter.  Plus, do you really learn anything when you rout every team you play?  So this year his team got bumped up, but perhaps a division too high.  They were on the opposite end of the routing spectrum, and got soundly thumped, pretty much all season.  Equally not as fun.

For the end of the season tournament, Kellen’s team got bumped up one division, and Landon’s team got placed down one division, and guess what?  As was probably inevitable, the boys wound up playing one another.  And if I might say so, having a jolly good time doing it.  Several of the boys on Kellen’s team, and all the boys on Landon’s team, go to school together.  It was a hoot to watch them smack-talking one another across the court, with grins on their faces the whole time.  Don’t get me wrong, both teams played to win, and it was one heck of a good game, but it was played in good spirits.  Hands extended to help up players on the other team, slaps on the back for the opposing team, and parents in the stands rooting for both sides.  Really, if every game, in every sport in the land could be played like that one, there would be a lot more kids, happy to play youth sports, and a lot less reports of parents going after one another with fisticuffs in the parking lot.

“Get out of my way, cuz …..”

“Oh, yeah?  You’re going down …..”

Except that clearly, Landon understands the concept of the block-out better than Kellen does.

“So you really think you’re man enough to guard me?”

“Oh, I KNOW I’m man enough ….”

Except notice they are both smiling the entire time …..

“I’m taller.”

“So?  I’m tougher.”

“I told you, I’m going to guard you.  Get used to it.”

“Really?  ‘Cause where I’m from, we call this dancing.”

“Well if you insist on dancing, then I’m going to lead.”

“No, *I* get to lead, I’m taller.”

“Who cares?  I’m older!”

“By a measly six weeks!!”

“Fine, then I’ll just grab your shirt and hang on and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I will slap you like the girly-girl I am, you just watch.”

“You know, this is an awful lot like how we play basketball in your driveway.”

And they still smiled, the entire time.

And the dance starts again.

For the record, Landon’s team was ahead.  And then Kellen’s team was ahead.  And then Landon’s team was ahead.  And wound up winning by three points.  Although I should probably never be glad that my son’s team lost, I must confess, I was.  Because now my nephew’s team advances forward in the tournament, and must play again on Friday a team they played last week.  A team that played so rough, and so ugly, that one of the boys on the other team not only fouled out, but was EJECTED from the game.  What kind of eleven year old gets EJECTED from a basketball game … and not only that, but with the encouragement of his parents in the stands???  As punishment, he was forced to sit out the first game of this tournament, and will be coming back for the first time, to face my nephew’s team again.   Honestly, Kellen’s team has had such a great time, that is NOT how I’d want to end the season.

I am perfectly happy to move on in the lower bracket.  Because guess what?  The team we are playing later this week, also has boys from our school on it.  Boys who stayed to watch part of our game last night, and were cheering and razzing both sides equally, in good humor.  Something tells me that game will be almost as fun as this one was.

And I’m reminded, once again, of the reason we moved home.

Not the best picture, but happy to be cousins, nonetheless.

Because really, not just anyone can take photos as good as this:

Honestly, including someone’s HEAD in the photo is highly over rated.  Why should I settle, and be like everyone else?  I think cutting off the heads could be my own unique watermark.

And why worry yourself over something as silly as FOCUS? 

Don’t you agree?  Focus is highly over rated ….

In fact, photos that are off-center, out of focus, and poorly lit?  Why, that’s practically ART.  Clearly, I SUFFER for my craft.

Who am I kidding?  I’m not taking the blame when Sports Illustrated wants nothing to do with me.  I’m blaming the REF.  Get out of my way, Stripe-y …. you’re interfering with a GENIUS at work.

…. because I really can’t think of anything else to talk about.

(this is what happens when your mom is in charge of ticket sales and she makes you go early and pose for pictures before any of your friends have shown up …..)

Our elementary school kicked off their “Pennies for Patients” campaign for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society on Friday.  During morning assembly, they had a little skit about cancer, and let Kendrie play the part of Captain Chemo.  This is what she told me about it after school:

Kendrie:  “I got to play Captain Chemo and fight the cancer, but the C fell off my sign, so I was just Captain Hemo.  And Dylan played the white blood cells, and Katrina played the red blood cells, and Macy was the plankton.”

Me:  “Plankton ….. you mean the platelets?”

Kendrie:  “Yeah, whatever.”

This, from a girl who survived two and a half years chemotherapy herself.

A few weeks ago, my mom, Kellen and I attended a local concert, celebrating our school’s 100 year anniversary.  Performers were all school students, or alumni of the school, and I think there were over 200 people in the various choirs and band that took turns performing.  It was held in our church and was attended by about 1700 people.  1694 of those audience members greatly enjoyed the wonderful performances.  The other six people, sadly, were sitting directly in front of me.

Six adults, there to watch their middle schooler sing in one of the choirs.  For the two songs he and his choir performed, they were rapt audience members, just as polite and respectful as could be.  For the rest of the evening’s performance, they were quite possibly the rudest people I’d ever encountered in my life.  Talking amongst themselves, leaning over one another to talk  — and not quietly —  at one another, during songs.  Showing each other photos on their cell phones during performances, laughing, cutting up, and even a little bit of chair dancing went on.  They were obnoxious.  This wasn’t an outdoor summer series concert held a local park …… this was a group of volunteers who had spent MONTHS putting this performance together, which was held in a church.  I went from dumbfounded at their rudeness and disrespect, to annoyed, to downright peeved. 

Finally, after about half an hour, I leaned to my mom and told her I had to move seats.  I was afraid if I sat there another moment I was going to burst.  Or worse, hit one of them over the head with my commemorative program and tell them to SHUT UP.   So I got up after the next song, went to the rest room, and then sat down quite a distance from them when I returned.  I greatly enjoyed the rest of the evening.

Problem solved.

Fast forward to Monday evening.  Our middle school and high school choirs, and show choirs, were putting on a concert.  Since Brayden was singing, I attended.  I sat with two other families who also had daughters in the choirs.  We were sitting in our seats, chatting, waiting for the performance to start, and I swear, I thought the lady in front of me shushed us.  Then I thought, no, that can’t be right.  They haven’t even started yet.

But yes indeed, she had shushed us.  And she continued to be annoyed with us all night long, turning her head to look back at us, shaking her head (and her husband shaking his head right along with her) in dismay at our (obviously, unruly) behavior.

For the record, yes, we whispered amongst ourselves in between songs …. typically comments like, “Who is the girl in the 3rd row?” or “That kid in the middle has a good voice.”  During the actual songs, we were attentive and respectful.  We clapped enthusiastically after each performance.  The ONLY thing I can think of that might have honestly bothered that couple was that one of my friends was there with her three year old son …. who, lets be clear, sat in her lap or his dad’s lap the entire time.  He never yelled, or cried, or squirmed, or did anything that a normal three year old might be led to do when its getting close to his bedtime.  He did talk a little, but his parents were always very quick to remind him to be quiet, and good about getting him something to distract him when he started getting bored.  Was he silent the entire night?  No, but overall I thought he acted VERY nicely.  I’m just not sure the couple in front of us agreed, and have no idea what else it might have been that bothered them so.

At one time, the mom sitting next to me leaned over to me and said something about how we were obviously annoying them.  I was glad to know it wasn’t just me who noticed.   And then I couldn’t help but compare our behavior to the behavior of the people in front of me at last week’s concert because clearly, the couple in front of us were annoyed, just like I was last week.  The difference was that we were in NO WAY disrespectful to the performers — any of them.  Even when our own children were not on the stage, we paid attention to the performances.  And let’s be realistic, its a concert for middle and high schoolers, with 99% of the audience comprised of family members.  Is it really reasonable to expect total silence, with small children there?  And I still didn’t think the talking that we adults did was rude or disrespectful.  Really, that woman would have had to have bionic bat ears for our talking to have disturbed her.

At the end of the performance, one of the choir members came up …… apparently, these people were his grandparents.   And as luck would of course have it, the student’s mother is an employee at our school.  Of course she is.

My friend and I just laughed because doesn’t it just figure that the two people we would annoy would wind up having a tie to the school??

As I got up to leave the auditorium, I came to two realizations:

1.  Honestly, we did nothing wrong.  I’m not quite sure why this couple had their knickers twisted over our behavior, but **I** wasn’t embarrassed by the way I behaved, so I wasn’t going to let them make me feel bad.

2.  What did it matter anyway?  Its not like I was ever going to see them again, right?

Until an hour later, when I took Brayden for ice cream after the concert ………… guess who showed up at the same ice cream parlor, and got in line behind us?  The grandparents, the boy, and his mom. 

Of course they did.

Backstory:  As you might know, Blaine and I have a very comfortable working arrangement, and have pretty much since the day we got married, where I plan meals, do the grocery shopping, and cook dinner most nights.  He will occasionally hop in with spaghetti or grilled cheese (his specialty, my grilled cheese suck) but 99% of the time, I am responsible for planning and preparing meals.  In exchange, he cleans the kitchen every night after dinner.  Which is fabulous for me, because I despise that chore almost as much as any other.  When we purchased this house, the cast iron (ceramic?) sink was a beautiful cream color.  The previous owner had either put in a brand new sink right before we moved in, or she was some kind of OCD cleaning freak, because that sink was spotless.  It took us about three weeks to stain it beyond repair, and we’ve hated it ever since.  So for Christmas, I bought Blaine a gift card to the local hardware store, so he could buy a stainless steel sink, something he has been wanting, and which will make his portion of our working arrangment much eaiser to manage.  The plumber came today to install it, and as is typical of our life, a simple job turned into a six hour project.  The clamps didn’t come in the original box, the sink didn’t fit the counter cut out, the drains didn’t line up, etc.   This is the conversation that we had when Blaine got home:

Blaine:  At least it looks good.

Me:  Yeah, but they had to cut the counter top to make it fit.  There is dust and counter top shavings everywhere … on the stove, in the appliances, the floor, the rug, the windowsill, in the drawers ….its a mess.

Blaine:  But the sink will be easier to keep clean.

Me:  I suppose.  Did you notice the garbage disposal is on the right side of the sink this time?  No wonder the drains didn’t line up.

Blaine:  It was on the right side last time.

Me:  No it wasn’t, it was on the left.

Blaine:  Right.

Me:  Left.

Blaine:  just looked at me

Me:  Right?  Wasn’t it on the left?  with the last sink???  voice trailing off ….

Blaine:  Lord.  Have.  Mercy.  Clearly you need to spend more time cleaning the kitchen, if you can’t even remember where the garbage disposal was.