The Almost Possible End of an Era.

This weekend, Quincy and The Kid are playing in their Area Baseball Tournament.  With Coach faithfully by their side.  After six (sometimes very long and very painful) seasons together, the boys may be coming to the end of a run. After this weekend, Coach will likely (unless he is talked into it AGAIN) retire his career as the boys coach.  Probably moving on to First Base Coach to The Kid, Tink or one day Coco.

Without Coach as their Coach, it's possible the cousins may be placed on different teams next year. 

So this seems like the perfect day for a little Flash Back Friday Baseball Photo Montage.

There's been some bad games ('some' wink wink) some great games.  Some hits, walks and strike outs. Catches, misses.. plays made and not.  Lots of forehead rubbing and exhausted facial expressions from Coach.  But still... I'm proud of our boys.  Love you guys. Nothing cuter than a summer baseball pic..

The Kids..

A few days ago, I took Tink to the Dr for her first ever ear ache.  Because I NEVER take my kids to the Dr (they are actually never sick) I had the nurse measure and weigh the kids. I got online to a Child's Height Predictor site and entered the numbers.

(Yes, it got awkward when it was time to enter the Parent's Height, I questioned Coach on whether he wanted me to use his Basketball flier Height or his actual real-life height.)

At the Age of 18, the site predicts The Kid will be
6 ft 5 inches tall.

The site predicts Tink will be 5 ft 4 inches tall.
* Factors such as proper nutrition can reduce the estimated height by 1-2 inches...
likely Tink's diet of french fries and DQ ice cream will place her around 5 ft 2 inches.

It predicts Coco will be 5 ft 6 inches tall.

I say to Coach "Well.. it looks like Coco will be at least a couple inches taller than Tink"

From all the way across the room, Tink screeches "NOOO, she will neber be!!"

I whisper "How did she even hear that??"

She snaps back with her meanest face and finger point towards herself "I jus HEARD it right at MY FACE!!"

Sooo.... her legs may not grow but her super sonic hearing and attitude grow by several feet every day.

The Perfect Time for a Warm Cup of Coco...

One week ago, our family was rocked by a shocking tragedy. I'm sure many (including myself) expected I would blog about my cousin's accident.  Except, I was totally unable to wrap my brain around her situation and therefore, unable to sit at the computer and write about her progress.
As a result... I just didn't blog.
I waited, for a reason to post something more smiley... and of course, Coco took it upon herself to make that moment happen. Yesterday, Coach declared he only owned two pairs of shorts 'wear worthy'.  So we took Pretty Woman to the mall, for his shopping spree.
But watching Daddy shop, got boring and while passing Claire's, Tink decided she was FINALLY ready to take her studs out and purchase new earrings.  I casually jokingly mention to Coco.. "wanna get your ears pierced??"
Calmly, matter of fact, she replied "Yes."
I really didn't believe her.
(She sorta makes up stories.)
We entered the store, in line behind an eight year old girl.  During her piercing, she cried giant sad tears while repeating "Ouch, ouch, ouch.."
The clerk asked if Coco was next.
I eye-rolled replied "I seriously doubt it."
I was totally prepared for Coco to turn on her heel and walk right out of the store.  Instead she stood, stone faced and the moment the older girl exited the chair, Coco just crawled herself right in.  Completely ready.  No big deal.

Smiling in Anticipation...

Using a requested 'purple' sharpie to mark holes.

The moment of the poke, if possible, she was even calmer than her older sista.  No tears.  Too tough.

My baby. With earrings.

Plain pink studs, "jus like her sista"

Now, she said, she is ready for school.

Within MINUTES of getting her earrings, she asked to get a pedicure.  (We said no.) She repeatedly asked. (We repeatedly answered  no.) This little Cheerleader in Training is gonna break us.

Thanks for the cup of Coco.  We needed that.

Warrior Dash 2012

"Nobody's Gotta be a Hero...."
A phrase spoken exclusively for me.

Around Mile Marker #1.
In the 98 plus degree weather....
It became clear, after 3 summers of joining these events: I'm not cut out for this. The heat knocked me out, before the obstacles had their chance.
I only ever joined these events, to feel the camaraderie of being a part of the group.
Therefore:
I'm retiring my running (slow jog/walking) shoes.

To my Crew:

(Part of My Team: Me in obvious post race glow/death, Ditta and General- asking me if I can breathe yet... or just maybe he's unable to stand.)


Munchkin: You have turned into a happy mini machine of svelte power.  I'm impressed.
Ditta Ditta: The Warrior Officials should shave several minutes off your final time just for having to carry those giant guns, up the hills.
Bird: Thanks for keeping your enthusiasm and honesty, while watching your yoga teacher literally bend in half. (unintentionally...)
And The General: My two time partner, proving that carrying a gym pass on your key chain really can make a man stronger.  I was honored to hold your hand, once again. We should randomly do that more often.

You four, should have left me... the 6-7 times I told you to "save yourselves".  But it was sweet, you didn't.

My Coach:  Congrats on again proving to be a Warrior.  During the race... and especially, afterwards with me.  You are amazing.

Gettin Diiirrrrtaaay.

Obviously, if two adults have the opportunity to spend 5 days without their 3 children the first thing they plan to do, is get a little dirty.

Duh... I'm talking about the Warrior Dash! Creep.

I have spent all year, calm and completely unimpressed about running (slow jogging) the Warrior Dash. I have literally 'trained' only a small fraction of the time I did last year. My 'running' has consisted only of the time spent in the 4 Warrior Yoga classes.  I am absolutely unprepared.

Yet, I was totally relaxed and blah about the event.

No big deal.

It didn't kill me last time.  Who cares.  What ev.

Then, The Mrs mentioned a few new obstacles.

A giant muddy water slide down a hill.

Climbing a wall, while thick ice cold hoses shoot down from above.  Etc.

I repeatedly told anyone, the race last year wasn't sooo bad.  Except for the hoses at the end.  I HATED the hoses.  I declared I would bring MANY empty milk jugs filled with water, to gently wash the mud off.

Now... hoses are actual obstacles??

Will water physically hurt me?? Of course not.

But ladies with naturally curly hair and contacts prescripted for the practically blind... DO NOT. Under ANY circumstances: Play around in race riot-like hoses WHILE scaling dangerous slippery obstacles or slide down giant muddy water slides. 

And if that curly haired girl were, for some crazy reason, to perform in these water related obstacles... she would then certainly not add temperatures of 95 degrees into the equation.

Bottom Line: This aint gonna be pretty.

The fastest anyone is gonna see me move tomorrow, will be towards our vehicle after the race, when everyone pulls out their digital cameras.

PS- One year of planning and we only acquired seven empty milk jugs.

PSS- My Battle Cry: "Nobodys gotta be a hero." If you find this Battle Cry suits you... join General and I.  We'll be the couple holding hands, far in the back, barely speed walking and spewing sarcastic jabs at the 'real athletes' leaving us in their wake.

Ironic

It appears, I am actually a much more effective and productive Stay at Home Mother... when I am not actually Mothering. Weird.

In just the last two days, I have laundered every stitch of clothing in this house.  Including the bedding (I then made our bed and folded the sheets over perfectly, like in a hotel!) I even cleaned the laundry room, itself!  Not to mention, moving furniture vacuuming.  And because I was bored: I even brought up the garbage cans from the curb (which we all know is actually a male job...)

And you would assume, I would be napping left and right... Except, I turns out: if you have 8 hours of sleep, totally uninterrupted by little girls having nightmares or little boys refusing to fall asleep... then you are actually, not that tired during the day. 
I know!  How crazy is that?? Revelations 6:14

But I did have a little girl call me from Arkansas last night: using her sad voice and telling me she missed her home... and that snapped me out of my Perfect Housewife Euphoria. But it amused her to find out, her perfectly effective mother, has even made an appointment for Maggie Mae to go to a Beauty Salon appointment on Saturday. (Fact: the dog is totally basking in the calm glory of no children.)

Welp... I'd better get back to my cleaning. Probably be the last time it happens, til school starts back.

Like the other half lives...

Just within the last hour, my parents left in a rented van, with my three children on vacation to a family reunion.  And they will not return... until Sunday.  What??!!
This will be the very first time, Coach and I have been alone in our home, in the past 7 1/2 years! (Our last charted alone time in this house lasted approximately 29 hours.) Not to mention, this will be the first and only time in nearly 11 years, I have been without at least one child, for more than 3 days.
Needless to say, it's bout to get KaRazy up in heres!
Now, Coach will be business as usual, working his 50 hr work week.  And I have 5 yoga classes scheduled.  (Not to mention that little Warrior Dash on Saturday....) But these are examples of some of the KaRazy I've got planned for the next 5 days:
- I will not fill any sippy cup, at any time, for any reason (nor will I open a Capri Sun or another juice box of any variety.)
- We will be entitled to full and complete TV rights.  Which means: if we please, we could watch True Blood or The Walking Dead in the main living area, on the big TV, without our finger situated just above the Pause button. (Neither of those shows are actually on, over the next 5 days... but I'm just sayin.)
- I will have the freedom to pee, whenever I may choose, without a small child watching, lurking on the other side of the door or upon realizing I have to pee... they then having to pee IMMEDIATELY and just before me... in the same bathroom.
- I will not cook, one tray of chicken nuggets or prepare a single Peanut Butter n Jelly (not even if Coach begs)

I also plan:
- to clean my home.  REALLY clean my home.  And then not immediately turn WITHIN SECONDS.. to find a Barbie on the couch, The Kid's dirty socks by the door or pink toothbrushes, toothpaste or hair ties on the bathroom counter.
- I'm gonna take a nap. Or two... maybe three.
- I will have no reason to referee a little girl scratch fight, ending with one or the other screaming "You're not mine sista anymore!"
- I will not wipe any butts (hopefully Coach can handle his own) or clean any faces or yank a brush thru Tink's tangled hair as she smacks my hand.

Now.. of course, by this weekend, I will start missing my babies.  Coach does not snuggle as cute as Tink and Coach is not as funny as Coco and Coach rarely quotes random Titanic facts during dinner.
But Coach is sorta cute...
and it will be nice to have him to myself.

This morning, at Bible School:

We are in the Art room and I am helping Coco start her project.  She is standing, bored and not wanting to work on her craft.
Just then, Father Rickey walks into the room.
Coco turns, bumps out her one hip, lifts her eyebrow and looks with a (well well what have we got here...?) expression and loudly says to me:
"Hey... what's Jesus doing IN HERE??!"

What I love, is NOT that Coco thinks Father is Jesus but that Jesus obviously does not impress her all that much... and clearly DOES NOT belong in the Art Room. (per her opinion).

Maybe with Coco, Father should consider a little less friendly kindness and a little more ol' fashioned Catholic Honor Thy Fire and Brimstone.... if he wants to win any celebrity influence over her.

Maturity

Last night, I returned home from yoga.
My children, having been left safely with their father.
It was a beautiful summer evening.

As I walked in the door, all three kids are hopping around, excitedly (and loudly) exclaiming in unison, "Dad kicked a football over the house!  Daddy can kicked da football!  Mom, Dad kicked a football ALL THE WAY up ober the house!!"

I look over the table to my husband, with my (seriously, are you kidding face) "Really?? You were purposely kicking the football over our home?"

Coach replies (with wide innocent eyes accompanied by a confident smirk) "What? I cleared it by a mile."

Me: "Real mature".

Who says he's actually 30, anyway?

Look Very Close...

and you just may spot, a scene rarely seen in nature.  So elusive, so precious... look closely, The Kid and Quincy BOTH on base.  Could this really be tru??

I started the game, pretty much giving up hope.
Declaring to Sweetbreads.. "I hate this game."
Totally over, the Hitting Slump of 2012.

Then, for the very first time under the Big Lights, late... into the night... BOTH boys got on base.
And if that wasn't enough...
The Kid hit two doubles. Went 3 for 4.
And as if he wasn't ALREADY getting hugs and candy,
End of a tied ballgame, two outs,
The Kid is up. I think, "Oh God, please NO."
We've been here before...
a wave of black washed over my body.  I felt weak. I nearly vomited. I'm pretty sure I held my breath for 6 solid minutes. Ball, strike, strike ... hyperventilating...
10:20pm pitcher throws... The Kid hits a double!
Then steals Third.
Another batter up... but Coach sends The Kid ...
(I jump up and scream RUN FAST!!)
AND THEN HE STOLE HOME TO WIN THE GAME!!!
What??  What the wha??? Yes, you read correctly.
That was no misprint.
Fi. Na. Lleeee... The Kid looked like a baseball player.
Miracles really do exist!!

Happy Birthday Grammy!

It feels like just a week ago, I wrote a totally moving Mother's Day Post to Grammy, about her being a hero.. a great mother... an inspiration..yada yada.
Is there really anything else for me to say??

So I figured: I'll just let someone else, take the stage.
A birthday post written by The Kid,
to his Twin, his Grammy:

Happy birthday to the fun, adventurous, Grammy that was a big part of my life. She's the one that took me to New York, the one that made seeing the ocean possible, and the one that will take me to Arkansas this month.

 Grammy, along with my parents was always there for me. She was my field trip buddy. I look back and remember the trips to the canal. The beautiful vacation houses, along with the vacations. I remember the happy day when you moved to Dwight... again. But most of all I am blessed to have my Grammy.

 I just want to say happy birthday to one of the biggest puzzle pieces that make up me. HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRAMMY!!!

P.S. I hope this moved you enough to buy me a new iPod. With a camera.

-The Kid

(ummm... seriously, I did not add or edit one single word.  That's all completely The Kid. He sat at the kitchen table and wrote/typed ALL of this totally by himself.  I am VERY impressed!!)

Spoken From Tink:
"Grammy- you take me eberywhere.
Um and you are taking me on anoder bacation."
(eyeroll) "umm and I lobe her and I stay da night dere to sleep." (shoulder shrug)

Spoken from Coco:
"Lode her.
I lode you da most.
And her birfday ....get presents.
And ummm whad else? What? What?? And I lode my Poppop and purple."
(Followed by a spin and hip-shake)

Happy Birthday, Mom.
Thanks for loving my children,
just as amazingly as you loved us.
(actually... maybe even more)
They are becoming better little people, with you in their lives. (you.. and the color purple.)