happiness, motherhood

Wrigley Rising

Mad Dog and I looked at each other.  The stakes were high.  Do we roll the dice?  Do we go all in?  Do we leave it all on the field?

Yes, yes and yes.

So what if we watched The Professor lose by a painfully tiny margin at game 3?  So what if we might see Cleveland take the Series at Wrigley?  So what if the price tag for tickets made me silently weep?

THE CUBS WERE IN THE WORLD SERIES!

There had already been so many tears.  Tears when we made it to the World Series realizing I couldn’t share that moment with my mom.  Tears when we lost game 3.  Tears, tears and more tears.  You may wonder why I allow myself to be a part of something that makes me cry so much.  It’s in my genes.  I can’t not bleed Cubbie blue any less than I can’t not breathe.  After 42 years of being a Cubs fan, I figured tears were always going to be a part of it.  I knew that ultimately if I was heartbroken again, I would rise up and keep on cheering…and crying for my team.

Mad Dog and I went for it and got the tickets.  We figured we would rather face our fears than live with regret.

Every pitch we watched was like taking a bullet.  I had to keep asking Mad Dog ‘Are you sure about the money?  Will you be able to let it go no matter what?’  He reassured me he was fine but I could see the worry in his eyes.  He was concerned that his extremely sensitive wife would not recover from witnessing a loss of this magnitude at her beloved Wrigley Field.  He was probably right.

Game 5 felt different than game 3.  Maybe it was when Anthony Rizzo changed his walk-up song to the Rocky theme that embers of hope began to ignite.  Maybe it was Kris Bryant’s solo home run that shifted the tides of momentum in our favor.  Maybe it was my lucky socks.  Maybe it was finally damn time that the baseball gods realized the Cubs were due.

By the end of the game I felt faint.  The standing, the cheering, the adrenaline all were taking their toll.  Chapman’s heroic 8 out save to send us back to Cleveland was the most stressful stretch of a baseball game I have ever seen. Game five was epic.  Only to be outdone by game 6 which gave way to the greatest single game 7 in the history of baseball.

When the final out of game seven was called, I think you know where this is going…

Tears, tears and more tears.

Finally tears of joy.

Thanks to the Chicago Cubs, I will now always believe in miracles.

Go Cubs Go!

image

motherhood

The G.O.A.T.

Some evenings the stars do not align and my boys have practices at different times.  This is never a problem if Full Speed is the one waiting for his start time. All I have to do is bring a book for him and he is content to wait it out.  T.Puzzle is more complicated.  Sometimes he likes books and sometimes he hates them.  Sometimes he’s chatty and sometimes he is belligerently bored.  And, being that I am a stubborn sort myself, I don’t allow electronics during the week.  Basically, I’m stuck with him for better or for worse.  Recently, I’ve been able to embrace this time with him a little bit more.  Working on word puzzles with him is a good bet and I find his self-centric worldview to be incredibly entertaining.

As we were sitting in my car waiting for his practice time I was overcome by a wave of love for him.  You remember the kind maybe?  It’s like that moment when you crept into your child’s room to gaze upon them when they were small and peacefully asleep.  Watching the sweet rise and fall of their chest made you feel like your heart would burst right out of yours.  That is the best feeling and one I felt I wanted to share.

“You are so cute!” I gushed.

T.Puzzle’s instant response with dimples blazing, “I know.”

This kid.  He thinks he is the G.O.A.T. (the greatest of all time).

A few weeks back I got a call from his school informing me he had hit his head.  All was well but recently he asked me about it.  How did I know he didn’t have a concussion?  I said that the school nurse had asked him a bunch of questions that he answered correctly which indicated he was fine.  What were the questions he wanted to know?

“Well, she asked you who your favorite person in the whole world was and you said ‘my mom’ and that’s how we knew you were okay.”

“I know you are lying, Mom.  That couldn’t be true.  If the nurse did ask me that the answer wouldn’t be you, it would be me.  I am my favorite person in the whole world.”

A G.O.A.T. is born.

image
Mr. GOAT’s sunscreen application he insisted he DO IT HIMSELF!
children, family, humor, kids, motherhood

The Biggest Goals Ever

I hate to admit it, but sometimes, I am a reluctant soccer mom.  I used to be more gung-ho when my boys were small.  Since I still choose to keep them in a relatively low-key rec league, I am required to be at the fields for all their practices.  Even though my boys are close in age, often their birth dates do not align and they end up on different teams.  This means that they can have different practice nights.  This means that I am at the soccer fields almost every night of the week not including games.  Hence, this is where some of my reluctance creeps in.

This current season has started.  Full Speed was asked along with a few other members of his U12 team to help fill out the roster of his coach’s U14 team.  I left it up to him and he seemed excited to help out.  While the coach was confident he could hold his own skill-wise, I voiced my concern about his size.  Full Speed is a lot of things, but being tall for his age is not one of them.  He’s kind of skinny, too.  I, of course, think he is the perfect size and height to be who he is, but I also am not delusional.  How was he going to stack up against U14 size-wise?  The coach assured me he would be fine and given there is no slide tackling in this particular league, I believed her.  Maybe it was the heat.

image
Full Speed’s early soccer training days.

Full Speed had his first U12 game and even though it was in the morning, it was intensely hot and humid.  His team lost quite miserably but he genuinely had fun with his teammates (they are a great group) and had two assists.  He was happy but very tired after the game.  We took him home to rest up and cool down for the next game which would be against a U14 team.

We returned to the fields well before the opposition arrived.  During warm-ups, I could see Full Speed’s opponents approaching the field.  From faraway they looked slightly bigger than average.  Upon their arrival to the field, they were GIGANTIC.  I’m talking full-grown adult-sized.  I’m talking maybe some should consider playing college football big.  Their goalie was pushing 6’0 and nearing 200 lbs.  Full Speed barely cleared most of their waists.  Yikes.

It was pretty obvious early on, given our diminutive size and the use of several U12 players, we were going to get creamed.  But that’s part of it.  That’s life.  Sometimes you are going to take a beating and it’s up to you how you handle it.  I thought Full Speed’s team handled it quite well.  Nearly all of them kept trying and didn’t give up.  It wasn’t fun to watch by any means, but I was proud of them.

It’s possible because this was the second and much worse beat-down I was witnessing Full Speed endure that day in 100+ heat, but the opposition’s goalie was becoming problematic for me.  In what I believe to be a show of complete disrespect, he stopped playing in the goal.  He wandered around the field, often pushing all the way up to midfield.  Granted, we maybe only had a handful of shots taken on goal, but his disregard for Full Speed’s trying-so-hard team was difficult to take.  From the goalie’s perspective, I’m sure he was bored by the tiny team taking tiny shots.  From a mom-nearing-heatstroke’s perspective, I wanted a goal for Full Speed’s team so bad I could taste it.  The open net taunted me.  I started to formulate a plan.  If we didn’t score soon, I was going to run on the field and take it to the house myself.  What’s the worse that could happen?  I’m banned from the game?  I’d have to go to my air-conditioned car until it was over?  Soooo tempting. Or worse (better?) yet, I’d be banned from the fields for life?  No more fire ants to contend with or sweating until I’m pushed to delrium (I’d obviously passed this brink if I was plotting to score a goal).

I was so hot and I was so frustrated and watching that goalie walk nonchalantly around the field was too too much.  Little Full Speed was up at striker and I have never wanted him to score a goal as much I wanted it in that moment.  Finally, he managed to outmaneuver their defense.  When I asked Full Speed later what is was like going up against defenders twice his size he said his focus was ‘to not get run over or get kicked in the face.’  He had succeeded at both and finally had the ball in his possession.  He broke for that wide open net.  The goalie attempted to race back to meet him.  He got there in time to block Full Speed’s strike.  The goalie anticipated a high kick, Full Speed went small and chipped a low shot right at the goalie.  Since the goalie went high, the ball bounced underneath him and INTO THE GOAL!

I cheered like we won the World Cup.

It was amazing.

Full Speed managed another goal a few minutes later.  This time, as the goalie back-pedaled to the goal, he tripped on his own feet and Full Speed’s teammate kicked the ball at him.  The ball ricocheted off the goalie and set up Full Speed in a perfect assist for a goal.  It was pretty sweet.  Another goal came later on a penalty kick by Full Speed’s teammate.

Yes, Full Speed’s team lost 17(?) (I honestly lost track after double digits) to 3, but those were three of the most glorious goals in the history of soccer.

Go Team!

children, family, humor, motherhood

The Summer of Love

image

Per our tradition, I was seated at the counter flanked by the boys as we ate our final lunch of summer break.  I don’t know why, but lunch at the counter seems more summery than table eating.

T.Puzzle (looking rather forlorn):  “Why does school have to start again?”

Me:  “The first day of school is that bad, huh?”

T.Puzzle:  “It’s so bad we should call it The Day That Cannot be Named.  The other day I hate is Valentine’s Day.  It’s all love and bleh.  I don’t understand why there has to be a whole day about love.  It makes no sense.”

Full Speed (courtesy of a joke book):  “If you’re born in November, that means your parents had a pretty cool Valentine’s Day.”

I laughed so hard I almost spit out my food.  This made Full Speed laugh which only made me laugh harder.  T.Puzzle remained unmoved, I mean, it was the day before The Day That Cannot Be Named after all.

image
T.Puzzle shares his true feelings about returning to school.

image.jpeg

grief, motherhood

The Story of a girl and her White Fluffy Dog

A wise person had once told the girl, “The road to true love is never easy.”  And, they were right.  It hadn’t been easy.  The girl didn’t mind because she was happily in love with her Buckeye.  Their relationship was finally everything she knew it could be and then some.  They had moved in together and lived across from Wrigley Field.  Pure magic.

Sometimes, at night, as the girl waited for her handsome Buckeye to come home after a long day’s work and an even longer commute, she would get a little bit lonely.  She thought about how to remedy this and knowing her Buckeye’s career path was only gearing up, she decided to get a dog.  She had never had a dog in her whole life.  The great thing about being a grown-up is that if you want a dog, you get to have a dog.  The girl was not impulsive in nature so she researched and pondered and then researched and pondered some more.  Eventually she decided she wanted a Bichon Frise because small, white and fluffy seemed like perfection to her.  On the day she drove to a suburb to meet a slew of Bichons, she felt very confident ‘her dog’ would find her.  And, she did.

At first the girl thought she wanted a boy and that’s all she focused on.  She started to get frustrated with how energetic and bitey they all were and wondered if she would leave empty-handed.  Instead, she opened up her expectations and picked up the first female she could find.

It was love at first sight.

The girl couldn’t explain it but this sweet little Bichon-Poodle was meant to be hers.  She was gentle and loving.  She weighed a whopping 3.2 pounds.  She was perfect.

image


The girl brought her home and their adventure began.  It wasn’t always easy or smooth, but the girl quickly forgave her White Fluffy Dog because, well, she was white and fluffy.  She was magic.

Five months after the White Fluffy Dog came into her life, the girl had to go out of town.  She left for a few days and put the White Fluffy Dog’s care into the hands of her Buckeye.  She didn’t think twice about it before she left but she should have.  Once she returned she realized something had changed.  Her White Fluffy Dog still loved her, but now, she loved the Buckeye even more.  At times this would frustrate the girl because she wanted to be loved best, but she got over it.  This dramatic shift in loyalty helped a lot when the girl became a mom.  She was so focused on raising her young Buckeyes, she was grateful that the White Fluffy Dog had the Buckeye to look out for her.  It also helped that the White Fluffy Dog adored the little Buckeyes.  She loved babies, pacifiers, bottles and diapers.  She was always gentle with the little Buckeyes and over the years, tolerated a lot of hands-on rough and tumble play with them.  She adjusted to being a big sister with great aplomb.

 

Life changed drastically when the Littlest Buckeye turned 18 months old.  At this time the girl learned he was severely allergic to the White Fluffy Dog.  As much as the girl loved her White Fluffy Dog, she did what she had to.  The White Fluffy Dog went to live with her Buckeye’s parents.  The White Fluffy Dog lived with them for five long years (extremely long if you ask the Buckeye’s father).

As the LB grew and changed so did his immune system.  On a whim when he was seven, the girl decided to have him tested yet again for his dog allergy.  She almost didn’t believe the results.  Her White Fluffy Dog could come home.  It was magic all over again.

Having her White Fluffy Dog again brought wholeness to the girl’s heart.  The girl could handle all of her White Fluffy Dog’s quirks because of this wholeness.  Yes, the White Fluffy Dog had entered her golden years and was certainly set in her ways, but she was still magic.  She still was that same dog that ran towards you when you were hurting, sick or broken.  If the girl was sad, her White Fluffy Dog would lay down next to her.  The White Fluffy Dog never ran when faced with distress, rather this is when she shined.  There are no words to convey what this meant to the girl.  ‘Everything’ is a good one to start with.  It pretty much meant everything to the girl.

The girl had more time for her White Fluffy Dog as her little Buckeyes weren’t so little.  She walked her every day.  The girl loved these walks.  The girl fed her, brushed her and made sure she had her medicine.  While the White Fluffy Dog still loved the Buckeye the best, she appreciated all the love and care the girl showed her.  She followed the girl everywhere.  The magic continued…until it didn’t.

The White Fluffy Dog had lived 13.5 well-loved years when her body finally started to give out.  The girl was heartbroken.  The day came that the girl and her family had to say goodbye to the White Fluffy Dog.  She had cancer and was bleeding internally.  The White Fluffy Dog was ready to go.  When the White Fluffy Dog’s last moments arrived, the girl bravely held her in her arms.  The girl reasoned they had started out together, that it was only fitting that they were together when it ended.

The space the White Fluffy Dog has left in the girl’s home is enormous.  It is quiet in a way that is unsettling.  The girl now walks around with a White Fluffy hole in her heart.  Her only comfort is knowing that love eventually prevails.

After all, she learned this lesson from the best…

 

image