Skip to main content

It's the most wonderful time of the year

. . . Ultimate time!! The high school season is slowly beginning, despite record low temperatures. The two younger kids and I  may never warm up after watching three games in a row.

But it was wicked fun.


The team even did my two favorite cheers. I love the intensity and fun the kids bring to the game -- "Eat the babies!"
 

And, you know,  as an almost-50 year old woman, I don't often think to myself, "I wish I could trade bodies with a 17 year old for. . . just a couple of hours," but when I do, it's during Frisbee games.

They fly.






And when they fling themselves on the ground, as they did repeatedly during the second game? (I would have bet good money they were just messing with us at that point.) They bounce right back up and do wonderful things.

My second girl can throw on a hard mark.



But she was a little winded. I had to laugh when I saw that after a terrifically long point, with many turns, she was taking breaks bent in half with her hands on her knees, a position I know very well from my own forays into running around.

After one long series, she staggered off the field and collapsed. This was just before she pathetically asked me to throw her a Gatorade. . .


I love this sport. I love to play, I love to watch, I love the kids, I love the coaches, I love the other parents.


I do not love the cold. Fortunately it's supposed to get a little better after tomorrow.

And yeah, yeah, yeah, I know everyone everywhere else has it worse than we do. But for me, and where I am? I'm cold. Brrrrr.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

'Cause Baby You're A Firework. Come On Show Them What You're Worth

Five years ago today, I stood in a hospital room strewn with used syringes, rubber gloves and other medical waste, looking at the lifeless body of the man that I shared a life with for over 30 years. I should have been thinking of family, love and loss.  Instead, my first thought was, "Wow, I'm a widow now." Pretty pathetic in retrospect, and when Wingman referred to me just before I left him as "The Bitch", probably not too far off the mark.

But in time-warped speed just a half hour before that, I had already talked to the hospital twice, woken son #3 up to go over to the hospital with me, called Wingman's brother on the way, fought with a gimpy legged night watchman who wouldn't let us in the hospital, and finally took "that meeting" in a small private room where the doctor told my son and I that they did everything possible, but unfortunately (UNFORTUNATELY???) Wingman had passed. My brain was filled with what to do, who to call, …

I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt

Wingman use to call me many things. Obstinate. Overcritical. Certainly bitchy. I even recall on our wedding day that he called me "beautiful". But that was a one-time happening, and I don't recall him ever crooning Eric Clapton"s "You Look Wonderful Tonight" after that. So it comes as no surprise that he never called me "sexy".

And I get it.  When I went to school in NYC, a couple of my friends were stopped by Eileen Ford and asked to come to her agency to model.  They were cute, and one was even, in an exotic way, sexy even back then.  But not me. I was and always will be, fine with how I look.




There were some things over the years that got me noticed...like when I stopped dying my hair and grew it out to donate for a wig.  As part of a lecture that I did on The Avon Walk For Breast Cancer, I had my beautician come in and cut my waist-long hair short. The following Sunday at church, I was a Eucharistic Minister, which at a Catholic Mass is a re…

But She Use To Have A Carefree Mind Of Her Own, With A Devilish Look In Her Eye

The first time I went out with Wingman, he remarked about how much I reminded him of his mother.  When we finally met, I just didn't see it: she was a tall, chain-smoking blonde, with a Lauren Bacall-esque voice, while I considered myself just an average size brunette with no distinguishable qualities.



She and I began our own relationship with stories about our lives, and she won every round of "Can You Top This". At 10 years old, she helped deliver her brother when her mother went into labor at home. Later, her alcoholic mother walked out on the family and was never seen or heard from again, so she dropped out of school to help. At 19, she and her husband eloped, and thought no one knew.  A photographer however, took a picture of them outside City Hall which became the cover of the afternoon edition of the NY World Telegram. (Oops.) A couple of years later, her very pregnant self drove her father and his equally pregnant girlfriend to City Hall in Newark to MAKE them get…