The World Cup is Here!

When Sam was seven years old, he colored thirty-two flags for every nation in the 2006 world cup, and thus was born a tradition.

The Wall of Nations!
Flags will come down as countries are eliminated.

For the record, we are supporting -- of course -- the United States, as well as Croatia (my heritage) and Spain (because we love them).  

For the record, we are NOT supporting Ghana or Portugal.

For the record, we are psyched, ready, giddy, and not a little bit bummed that this thing called work will get in the way of lots and lots of soccer viewing.

Love.

To players and fans everywhere -- enjoy the next four weeks!  I know we will!

* * *

Two Letters to Kids Who Play Soccer

The first one is not from me. This letter, which I wish I could photocopy and pass out to every parent on the four teams my family is a part of -- or at least to a few hand-selected parents on those teams, was written by Mike Woitalla, a coach with our own East Bay United and the Executive Editor of Soccer America.

If you have kids who play any sport, not just soccer, you should read and share this letter, addressed to Soccer-Playing Children of America. It's really quite wonderful, exemplifying as it does all of our best hopes for what the beautiful game can be for our kids.

Mr. Woitalla's words have been resounding in my head all weekend, as Rick and I split our time between four teams and three tournaments. But as the weekend wore on, and I found myself cajoling sibling spectators into their booster seats for the kajillionth time and laundering uniforms in the middle of the night and dashing to the store for more (some would say better) snacks, other thoughts started pinging around as well, so I composed a letter of my own. It's sort of a complement to Mr. Woitalla's letter...I hope. Read on, dear children:

Dear Soccer-Playing Children in My Family,

This was a wonderful weekend of playing soccer, in sun and shadow, in early mornings and late afternoons. We saw everything from you this weekend, running, dribbling, passing, fighting, scoring, assisting, scissoring, weaving, winning, tying, and losing with dignity. I hope you had fun out there, just like Mr. Woitalla hopes for you as well. I want you to read his letter to you. He expresses eloquently everything your father and I believe in our hearts about soccer and your participation in it. And after you've read it, read this one. These are just a few extra gems that are also important, and equally held dear by dad and me.

First, you've been doing a decent job this season of finding your socks, shorts, and jerseys the day before your game. It's not easy, but I'm proud of you for not giving up, even when you've been sitting in a heap on your bedroom floor for 10 whole minutes moaning that you can't find one of your socks. So far, you've fought through those struggles and come up with the elusive sock. To that effort, I would add one small thing: I hope when it comes time to leave the house for your field next weekend, you've got your shoes on and your water bottles filled. This is so important, and it will help set you up to have a fantastic game. Because if you don't, I'm probably going to scream at you out of sheer frustration, and screaming at you is definitely not a great way to send you off onto the pitch.

And you know how your siblings have been coming to your games for years and figuring out how to keep themselves entertained during long tournament weekends? You know how the little ones have learned that when mom and dad are intently watching a soccer game, twitching with every move, they're aren't ignoring their younger offspring, they're just really, really pulling for whichever sibling is out there? You know how we've been telling them for years, in the car on the way to your games, that someday it will be their turn? Well, that day is here, at least for one of them. So yes, you have to go to some of her games and even watch and even cheer and even pretend to be supportive. It's the least you can do. If you're looking for the least, I'm handing it to you on a silver platter. Sit. Watch. Cheer once in a while. Easy peasy.

And another thing: early mornings really do suck. I know it's tough to get out of bed at 6am to get dressed and out the door to a 7am warm up. You know what's even harder? Getting out of bed before you do, at 5:30am, in order to make coffee for the coach, fix a warm protein-packed breakfast for lots of short people, make sure all the uniforms are clean and ready, and then get 5 reluctant risers to get ready for the day. All with a smile and an encouraging word or two. As much as I love the beautiful game, I also loved my beautiful pillow this morning, and yet I left it in order to be the force behind getting everyone where they needed to be.

Remember, the game is the thing. The game is why we do this. I know you love it, and I love watching you do what you love. A little reminder, then: We do not play this game for cheap knock-off neon-green Messi sweatshirts that look like they were slapped together in someone's garage and then hung on an old curtain rod sporting a $35 price tag. We definitely don't do it for that, and this half of we would really love it if you could let go of the prospect of owning that cheap piece of crap and focus on the game at hand.

Oh, and on a related note: not every ice cream vendor needs our business. The earth will not stop spinning if you don't eat ice cream at every soccer field your magical cleated feet grace. In other words, you are not a professional athlete, and you are not paid in ice cream.

We, your loving parents, will cheer and cheer, and try not to scream or coach from the sidelines (except your dad, when he actually is your coach, and even then, not during the game itself), and in return, we'd really appreciate it if you could recognize who it is that gets you to your games, buys your cleats, your uniforms, your shin guards, your balls, your power bars, your mangoes and your gatorade, drives to your practices, replaces your lost water bottle (well, once at least: after that, you're on your own), drives back to the field well after dark to see if your forgotten ball is still there, and generally gives up life itself to make this game possible for you.

I've told you before: I'm 100% willing and happy to do all of these things because if you love this game, then you should play it, as much as possible and as well as possible. What am I asking for? Work with me. That's it. Just work with me. Show good sportsmanship with me too, your mama, the captain of the team, so to speak, and the only person on earth who cares as much as you do about how your team does and whether or not you have a good game.

I care. So please don't piss me off.

Love,

Mom

ps: I think your father, coach-extraordinaire, more devoted to soccer than anyone you have ever met or ever will, could write a letter of his own. Maybe he will someday. Between all of your practices and games, I doubt he'll have the time. So on his behalf, let me just say this: Never forget how much time, energy, and love he puts into planning and thinking about you and how you are experiencing soccer. No one has or ever will do more for you, when it comes to soccer, than he does. We tease him that he can make soccer a metaphor for anything, but he's right, isn't he? Soccer is just like life: love and hard work will take you far. You dad will always be there watching, hoping, and cheering for you. So go forth to love and play hard.

7 Quick Takes: Volume 38

Whoa!  Did I just blink and another Friday rolled around?  And why does time keep speeding up on me?  Seriously, whose in charge of slowing things down around here?  I would like to file a formal request.  Here's the basic text: "HELP!  SLOW DOWN!"  I sure hope I get a response by next Friday.

Please visit the lovely host of the original 7 Quick Takes and visit the links to other bloggers playing along.

~1~

Yesterday, I offered to take the kids to get ice cream cones if everyone finished their work by 1pm.  Little T looked at me in dismay.

"What?  Ice cweam cones??  Why?"

Her face crumpled.  She fell to crying.

Huh?  I was baffled.  Until she clarified that she didn't want just the cone, she wanted the ice cream to go with it and thought it was very mean of me to just buy the cone.

So yesterday, when my kids finished their work by 1pm, I took them all out for ice cream cones, and I even let them get some ice cream to put on top.

~2~

We have started playing around with the math videos and practice exercises on Kahn Academy.  If you are not yet familiar with Kahn Academy, you should be.  You want to be, you just don't know it yet.  What a cool site!  What an amazing resource!  I ♥ Sal Kahn.

And for further math delightfulness, check out this version of the fantastic Tom Lehrer New Math song:

~3~

We learned how to make these fun paper boxes the other day:

Perfect.  Right when I finally purged all those calendars and children's book jackets I had been hoarding for years.

No matter.  I'm sure I can replenish that supply in a heartbeat, and I expect this to be a fun activity we will do many times.  They make delightful gifts and gift containers.  Thank you Lori and Maddie for teaching us!

~4~

Cooking with Mama Monica

Hee-hee...oh, my, that title makes me laugh.  I'm sure it would make my husband giggle, too.  Ah, the hilarity!  But my limited range in the kitchen is exactly why I am sharing this recipe.  It is the single easiest thing I ever make, and really quite delicious.  Every time I make it, I feel like I'm getting away with something.  So here ya' go:

Rosemary Chicken

I use thighs.  Place your (frozen, if you're like me) chicken thighs in a baking dish.  They don't need to be thawed, another important feature of the easiest recipe ever, since I never remember to thaw things.

1/2-1 cup of red wine
1/4-1/2 cup of olive oil
1/4-1/2 cup of chopped onions (I've used red and yellow, depending on what I have.  Both work.)
1/2 teaspoon of sage
1/2-1 teaspoon of rosemary
You can add a dash of salt: I don't.

Whisk together all of the above ingredients.  Pour the mixture over the chicken.  That's it.  Seriously.

Whoops!  Forgot to tell you to preheat the oven.  Which makes sense, since I always forget to do it.  Anyway, set oven to around 375-400.  Sorry I can't be more specific, but I've got a really spazzy oven, and I'm never sure exactly what temp I've got goin'.   Cover with foil and cook for around an hour...remove foil and cook for another 15 minutes.  Maybe longer.  Test it for doneness.  If you're like my husband, that means cut it open, eye it suspiciously, and poke a forkful in your wife's face and say: "This look done to you?"  I just use a meat thermometer.

Enjoy over rice or pasta.  And bask in the glory.  This takes about 10 minutes to prepare, and tastes like it took much longer.

You are most welcome.

~5~

And a shout out to my 12 year old son, who broke his own juggling record yesterday.   I did not catch the momentous occasion on film, but I did get this video a few weeks ago, to give you an idea of what he is doing.  He got to 50 or so in the video...far below the new RECORD TO BEAT OF 475!

475!  Woot-woot!

~6~

It turns out the Serenity Prayer is perfect for teenagers.  I had occasion to tell mine about it the other day, which reminded me of this prayer for the first time in a long time.  I'm glad I stumbled on a chance to bring it back into my daily life (because I can't control much), and I hope my son makes it part of his.  This is probably better than the Golden Rule as a succinct life philosphy.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can.

And the wisdom to know the difference.

Really, what more is there?

~7~

And if the radically opposing natures of most of my posts have been giving anyone whiplash lately, if you can't figure out if I'm a big sap or a total cynic, if I seem to be sweet one minute and sarcastically cruel the next, welcome to my world.  It's confusing to be me, trust me. But really, what about my kids?  Say a special prayer for them, with me as their mom.  They'll either be hopelessly confused by the world, or ready for anything.  I'm going for better than 50%, so we'll see how that goes.

* * *

7 Quick Takes: Volume 37

On Monday, I prayed to St. Anthony to help me find Friday, and LO! Friday has fallen into my lap. Amen.

~1~

I had a dream last Sunday night that I was buried underneath hundreds and hundreds of soccer balls.

Oh, wait.

That wasn't a dream...that was just my weekend.

~2~

When I was a kid, my family watched 60 minutes every Sunday night. For a long time, we've tried that here in my house, but the kids have been too little, too squirrely, too loud, too annoying...you get the idea. So instead of watching it, we've been recording it and then sometimes getting around to watching it.

But as the kids get older (because they do that, you know), things are a-changin'! We've actually watched the entire show three weeks in a row now, and the kids are starting to see it as part of our Sunday evening. Not all of them; some drift out of the living room and find something else to do, which is TOTALLY FINE. But I am thrilled that I get to watch it, and there's a bit of nostalgia in there for me, as I see my kids getting used to a tradition that was part of my growing up as well.

A couple of Sunday's ago, one of the stories, which was actually two segments worth, was particularly good. (The summer episodes are re-runs, so I'm not sure when it originally aired.) Leslie Stahl reported on Gospel for Teens, a choir program in Harlem, whose purpose is to keep gospel music alive as an art form. The report is an excellent example of how the arts can change, enhance and even save lives. If you have 40 minutes, go watch these two segments: it's well worth your time. (Google 60 Minutes, Gospel for Teens.)

~3~

Today's Homeschooling Tip: A Really Cool Pre-writing Activity!

I wanted the kids to reflect on what a TOTALLY AWESOME SUMMER they had (because they truly did) and I wanted to do a spin off of the What I Did For Summer Vacation writing assignment. So I consulted the resident writing expert (me spouse) and he suggested that we start with a Concept Map. The idea is that you create a visual representation, with words, pictures, or both, of something you will eventually write about. The Map gets to contain all the details and nuances you can think of, without having to be presented in a linear or logical fashion. It's creative and organic, and can lead a student to remember more and more details, add more and more information.

From there, eventually, you can use all of the ideas your map generated to write an essay; your ideas are all out there on your poster, not trapped in your head.

For ours, I created a poster for each kid, with the words MY SUMMER in the middle. From there, their task was to write or draw something to represent all of the fun things they did, shooting off from the middle of the poster. To draw out more detail, we asked things like: Who were you with? What did you do when you were there? What did you eat? What did you smell, see, hear, feel, etc.?

Given that it was the first time we've done this, not everyone jumped in and ran with it...and not everyone will. But at least one of my kids can't stay away from his poster, and keeps going back to it with more ideas and more details.

This activity was a success for us. I think we will use it again, and next time, I'll do one along with them.

~4~

That was a long take! Will try to be briefer.

~5~

Friday morning victory! My kids have 6 soccer games this weekend. Every weekend, we need to be ready with four pairs of shorts, 7 different jerseys (home and away for three kids), 5 pairs of socks, and team sweatshirts from three of the teams. Not surprisingly, I've spent many a late Friday night, and wee Saturday morning hours, weeping while hunting for these items.

Right now? Every. Single. Damn. Item. is found and ready. 24 hours ahead of time!

I am a soccer mom. Hear me roar.

~6~

I am re-reading The Outsiders, by S. E. Hinton, with my son. I first read it when I was about his age. We are trading the book back and forth and keeping up with the same chapters as we go. I'm actually getting teary reading it, and not just because of the story. No, it's the nostalgia that's getting me, the reminder of my younger self and how passionately in love with this book I was.

I keep having to hold myself back from grabbing my son by the shoulders and yelling "Don't you just LOVE IT? Isn't it AMAZING?" Probably, nothing would turn him off faster.

He does love it, though, so I needn't worry.

What book should you re-read?

~7~

And now, on our fourth day of homeschooling for the 2011-12 school year, we are off to the park, armed with books, water bottles and (of course) soccer balls. That's how we roll.

Enjoy your Friday everyone!

* * *

As always, visit the original and click around at the others who are participating today.

7 Quick Takes: Volume 36

Another Friday's come around,

We've made it here both safe and sound.

Glad you're here with me and mine,

Would you like a glass of wine?

I've had several, so up you catch!

And help me with a plan to hatch.

Find a way (or find some elves)

To make the children raise themselves.

So I can spend my days and nights

On silly fun and fancy flights.

On making life an endless game--

Oh wait--my kids already do the same!

Pull up a chair and share a toast

And visit our 7 Quick Takes host.

Visit the others playing along,

And may your weekend be a song.

~1~

Soccer season starts this weekend with a bang: three kids are in tournaments, which means we have 9 games minimum, and 12 if their teams all do well.

I think I will encourage Little T to take up knitting as a sport.

~2~

I just started a great new book: Unbroken, by Laura Hillenbrand. She also wrote Seabiscuit, although I have not read that. I'm only on page 25 and I am really enjoying it. The subtitle is: "A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption."

Usually, I read only fiction. But I've wanted to change that, and when a friend recommended this book to me the other day and put it directly into my hand to borrow, I was thrilled.

Have any of you read it? And/or: what's your favorite non-fiction book?

~3~

I am still adding to my list of movies to use during our new homeschooling year. My friend Nicole gave me another great idea today: Miracle. Thanks Nic!

Please, share your ideas for great family movies. They can be educational in nature, or pure fun, like the original Parent Trap. We will be watching one movie per school week on our crappy TV, and I'm hoping this will be a highlight of the year. And if anyone out there wants to buy me a flat screen TV, purely to enhance my kids' educational experience of course, I am totally open to that.

Also, let me know if you'd like to receive a copy of my List Of Super Awesome Movies For Homeschoolin' Families or For Peeps Who Just Like To Watch Movies, once it's finalized.

~4~

Another homeschooling milestone reached! Lady E ran into the garage today, where I was failing at yet another attempt at organizing chaos, and announced: "Mommy, Mommy! I finally learned how to arm fart!"

She even offered to give me a tutorial, complete with things she tried that failed. That's the beauty of education: sharing what we've learned with others.

I get a little teary just thinking about it.

~5~

There is a brand spankin' new Safeway in my neighborhood. It is gigantic. It is fancy. It has a sushi bar. It has a Starbucks. It has cafe seating. It's decor is all chocolate and mocha. It has hardwood-ish floors in the produce section. It has new disco mini-carts.

I hate it.

It's way too big and takes forever to get through. It's freezing in there. The dairy section is in a different zip code than the produce department. They now have 4,322 different kinds of cereal instead of 3,457. And their deli still takes a kajillion years to make a sandwich. (I know of what I speak: my first job, which I had for four years of high school was in a deli, and I know how to make a damn good sandwich fast. My fingers itch when I order sandwiches at the Safeway deli. Silly me, I though it might be different with a fancy new facility. Not true.)

A Facebook friend of mine put it best when she posted the other day: "I miss my ghetto Safeway." So do I, Carol; so do I.

I do kinda like the disco mini-carts, though.

~5~

Note to self: do not let practically 5 year old children take naps. You will pay dearly for it come 11pm.

And wouldn't you think a mother of five would have learned that by now? It turns out that sleep is seductive, both for the sleeper and for the beneficiary of a sleeping monkey-tornado.

~6~

"Foods" that irritate me: Hot Pockets. Pizza Rolls. Danimals. Lunchables. Smores-Flavored Pepperidge Farm Goldfish. Really?

Just because you can do it doesn't mean it's a good idea. Really.

~7~

A goofy photo for your Friday. I hope this makes you smile.

* * *

7 Quick Takes: Volume 35

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Dickens must have been talking about Fridays with small children.

Here are my Quick Takes for today. Please visit the original 7 Quick Takes and visit the links to other people participating today.

~1~

Sissi (pronounced See-See) came to my daughter's soccer camp today and ran the morning session. She was wonderful: playful and energetic with the girls on the field, and generous with her time afterwards, as they asked her to pose for endless pictures and sign an endless parade of jerseys, back packs, soccer balls, cleats, and even ipods. What a treat!

That's how we roll. We hob nob with International Soccer Stars.

~2~

I have up to now avoided one of the true milestones of parenting: the sleepover. My kids have gone on many of them, but I've never hosted one. I'm a slacker. Tomorrow night, all of that will change, as I welcome 8 or 9 little girls into my home for fun and frivolity.

I. Am. Terrified.

I just keep breathing and telling myself: "Pizza and a movie: how hard can it be?"

How scared am I to figure out the answer to that question? Very.

~3~

I need one of those Kill Your Television bumper stickers. Actually, I need several, so I can plaster them on our cars, my kids' bedroom doors, the refrigerator, and maybe a forehead or two.

Because when I left the house yesterday? These things did not get done to my liking:

After I went to all the trouble to write a nice, pretty list, the least they could have done was follow my instructions. Instead, I came home to a messy kitchen, dog poop in the garden, and only one load of laundry folded. (And no, they are not budding circus performers; juggling is a soccer thing.)

Had I added "watch mindless television" to that list, at least their completion percentage would have gone up.

Lists. I have become my father.

~4~

My son is planning to apply to the Oakland School for the Arts next year. OSA is a free, public charter school, but students must apply and be accepted in their chosen area of arts. Now, I may be biased, but if he is not accepted...

...they need to have their heads examined.

~5~

We have been revisiting the words of legendary coach John Wooden in our house lately, in order to teach our kids always to do their best and to see sports as metaphor for life. Here are some of my favorites:

Talent is God given. Be humble. Fame is man-given. Be grateful. Conceit is self-given. Be careful.

You can’t live a perfect day until you do something for someone who will never be able to repay you.

The true test of a man’s character is what he does when no one is watching.

Make every day your masterpiece.

Google "John Wooden Quotes" for more gems.

~6~

Recommended reading with little ones: Bink and Gollie, by Kate DiCamillo and Alison McGhee, and illustrated by Tony Fucile. We -- Lady E, Little T, and I -- have read this book a kajillion times and we aren't tired of it yet. Check it out!

~7~

And here's a little cautionary tale for all you grandparents out there. Lady E shared this with me the other day:

Just so you know, they will rat you out.

* * *

Thank you Pia, Abby, and the entire WNT!

On the eve of the World Cup Final, I'd like to take a moment to say thank you to Pia Sundhage and all of the amazing women who are getting ready to take on Japan for the Championship tomorrow. You have thrilled and entertained us, you have kept us on the edges of our seats, you have, literally, brought tears to our eyes with your fabulous victories these past few weeks.

I have five kids who play soccer, three of them girls who watch you play and see themselves in 15 years. You are showing them how to be the toughest, most committed athletes possible, and you are showing them the true meaning of teamwork, sportsmanship, dedication, and perseverance. You are raising them right!

I shamelessly used you the other day, when I was cajoling and coercing the girls into cleaning the living room. After pouring on the commands pretty thick, I heard one girl say: "Why are you pressuring us so much?!?!?!" My response was, of course: "Pressure makes us."

And then Pia, dear Pia, after all that pressure, you serve up the perfect antidote! Slow down, chickadees, enjoy the ride.

Go Pia! You are one of the most amazing and inspirational coaches we've ever seen.

We will miss the World Cup competition when it's over, but you better believe we'll be keeping up with all of you. Our greatest hope is that the attention you are getting this week will translate into greater and greater support for women's soccer all year round. Play the beautiful game, ladies: we will be watching.

Good luck tomorrow -- three girls, two boys, and a couple of parents out here in California are getting comfortable on the edges of our seats and are ready for a fantastic ride!

* * *

The Top Ten List of Shame

This post is for you, Viv, because a comment you left today put me in shock. Here's what you said, in response to this post, in which I revealed that my homeschooling life has had some colossal-ly bad moments:

I was feeling all left out, the way you have seemingly mastered life since you started homeschooling. It seems like everyone (bloggy pals) pulled their sh*t together all at once, and I still personify calamity and disaster...effectively becoming the odd man out. It is nice to know that you still have days where calamity and disaster prevail...because really, change a few initials and I could have written that, though I would have thrown in a few extra pucks. I feel decidedly less alone, and like maybe there is still hope for me one day after all. ;)

Reading that response made me realize that I have strayed from a tried-and-true theme of this blog: giving people just enough of a glimpse into the wonderful whackness of AIRY5 to make them really, really grateful that they do not have my life.

Does it appear that I have mastered life? Pulled my sh*t together? Eschewed calamity and disaster? Grab a sippy cup full of wine, my dear -- oh, wait, you might be feeding your seventh little blessing, who is all of what, 7 days old by now? -- or whatever beverage is handy, even if it's a juice pouch (but if it is, don't grab it before taking a long drag on that little straw or you know what will happen), and let me fly my freak flag* for you.

Here is a glimpse into my real life, my very own Top Ten list. Here, I give you The Top Ten Reasons It's Clear That I Do Not Have My Sh*t Together.

10. I never close my bedroom door. I wish I could say that this is because I am wholly committed to being available to my children, that I'm so willing to listen to what they have to say that I have an Open Door policy with them. Actually, it's because I tried it once, and felt so ashamed of and rebuked by the dust bunnies, infant socks, paper clips, and children's art projects that are behind it that I vowed never to shut it again. Keep in mind, I have not had an infant for 3+ years.

9. Once or twice (or possible many more), in a mad dash home from the grocery store at 5:45, still needing to make dinner, I have tossed a bag of pre-washed sugar snap peas at the occupants of my car, and called that the green vegetable for dinner. Or for the day.

8. My washing machine needs to be repaired. But I can't call the repairman, because he's a family friend, and I'm too embarrassed by the condition of the garage to get him over here to take a look at it. I mean, I'm fine with twisting myself sideways through various boxes and piles, in order to make it to the washer and dryer, but to let someone else in? I've seen this guy's garage. No thank you. These are the things that make me clean: the threat of abject humiliation. Even still, there's no telling how long it will take me.

7. I found my dining room table today, after over a month of being unsure if it was still, in fact, in the dining room. We had our monthly meeting with our Charter School teacher today, so there you go: the motivation I needed for that particular cleaning job. I still haven't found my kitchen table surface, my bedroom desk surface, my dresser surface, or, apparently, the surface of my self-respect.

6. My 4 year old has made it to preschool on time fewer than 10 times since school started last August. Once or twice, she didn't make it at all, just because we couldn't locate the wherewithal to get her there. I'd tell you how close we live to the preschool, but that would just be embarrassing. Unlike the rest of this list.

5. In one of the most fiercely waged wars of my life, my laundry is currently (and usually) winning. Piles are advancing like disciplined troops intent on wrecking havoc and destruction. More than one clean basket has now been folded, ransacked, re-folded, and re-ransacked more times that I can count. Dirty baskets lie in wait, mocking me on soccer game days with the possibility that the jersey I so desperately need to find is balled up in a damp corner growing new forms of penicillin.

4. When people tell me how great my kids are, I fight the urge to make sure they aren't confusing us with some other family of seven. Really? These fighting, screaming, rude, messy, clueless, lazy, selfish, defiant, weepy whiners? If they're so flippin' great, why do I mostly want to hide in the closet and play single player scrabble on my iPhone? And if they really are that great, then isn't it just the pinnacle of unfairness that my husband and I are the only people they do not share their greatness with?

3. Every time I need to print something from my computer, I have to move three or four piles of crap just to reach the printer cable and attach it to my laptop. Then I have to move a bunch of other stuff to make room to sit down on the edge of a chair covered in laundry, so I can be there to catch the pages as they come out, since the tray got broken by the fierce tiny grip of a child testing the laws of physics. Then I have to wait a kajillion years for it to work, because apparently it's a very Marin, EST-type of printer, and it's all about the process, and letting the process take the time it needs, and giving the process room to unfold in an organic and holistic fashion, and making me want to hurl it out my second story front window. So basically, printing stuff brings out my rage.

2. Every night, I plan to get the kids up by 7 or 8am the next morning, so that we can have a decent breakfast, do all of the morning chores, address our school activities, and have free time in the afternoon. Every morning, I get up early, sneak downstairs to make coffee, and then crouch over my computer reading news, blogs, and facebook, sipping coffee and praying they sleep until 10. My heart sinks when I hear feet on the stairway. Then I stall for as long as possible. Drink more coffee. Throw some toast out there. Adjust expectations downward.

And the #1 reason I know I don't have a damn thing together: Due to the sorry state of laundry in my home, someone in my family recently had to wear underwear intended for a gender not his or her own, because no clean ones in his or her own gender category were available. And no, I'm not saying who.

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*And the Freak Flag reference comes from the lovely Anna Quindlen, in this piece from momfilter. She said this:

I think having bright lines and boundaries really worked for us, that it made our kids strong and secure because they were clear on expectations and responsibilities. But I wish I had been better able to combine that with letting things go a little bit. Nobody really needs a bath every night. Nobody really needs a balanced meal for every meal. I should have let the freak flag fly a bit more. It’s hard to be a Type A mom. I wish I could have been a bit more B plus, for my sake and their own.

I hear you, Anna. But then, I think my own freak flag could probably stand a little vacation from my door post. And I'm not so much a Type A mom, as a Type A-Z mom who can't find clean underwear...for someone.

Bright lines and boundaries? I'm sure they're here somewhere. Maybe I'll find them in the garage on the same day I get the repair guy over here.

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Dizzy

Yesterday, my day consisted of getting new tires, searching for live crickets, buying live silkworms instead, trying to talk to the rackin-frackin insurance company, dealing with a daughter who keeps pooping in her underwear, working on art projects for Father's Day, watching part or all of three world cup games (we're sad Cameroon lost), going on a handful of errands (including one that earned me a beer with a favorite family), completing and mailing next school year's enrollment forms, and feeding people.

No wonder I am dizzy.

This past Sunday, we drove five hours, 2.5 hours into the foothills for a birthday party and 2.5 hours back. Once again, my love for farmland and foothills was re-affirmed and strengthened. It's absolutely beautiful out there in the middle of nowhere.

The linguist Geoff Nunberg, a professor at Cal, did a radio essay yesterday on the NPR program Fresh Air about how haiku has been all over twitter. You can listen to it here:



I do not twitter, but I like playing around with haiku. So here are two, inspired by my last couple of days.

Haiku for a Busy Day

Much to take care of:
Bank, friends, forms, art, food, futbol.
Done. Good and dizzy.

Haiku for a Road Trip to the Countryside, Where I Wish I Lived

Miles take me there.
Landscape lulls me to silence.
But I don't sleep there.

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Join the Haiku party: post yours in a comment!

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7 Quick Takes Friday: Volume 8

1. What do you call one terrible event, followed by multiple, wonderful acts of kindness and generosity? A big fat juicy blessing in disguise. And not a very good disguise at that.

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2. Children's responses to our recent theft:

Panicky 5 year old with tear-filled eyes just ready to spill over: "Did they take my blankeys?"

Distraught 9 year old: "I JUST UNLOCKED THAT GAME AND NOW I HAVE TO START ALL OVER!"

Clueless 3 year old: "They left a buncha stuff on da flowuh." (No, sweetheart, your room looked like this before "they" broke in; sorry.)

Cool, collected 7 year old: "I hate people."

And last, but not to be outdone by a single, solitary soul, my emotive 11 year old: "F*CK! THAT'S JACKED UP!" Ahem. I don't know where he learned to speak that way.

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3. I cry at Spelling Bees, Kindergarten graduations, and World Cup opening ceremonies. But just for the record, that first goal scored by Mexico this morning was, in fact, offsides. The ref called it right. And I finally get on/off sides. And boy does South Africa know how to celebrate The Beautiful Game.

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4. We went to Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park yesterday.


I thought it would be fun to ride the paddle boats. Rick was not with us, so it was me and five members of the Under 12 Set. The rule on the paddle boats is 4 people to a boat, and one of them has to be 16 or older. One ride costs $20. I could not figure out how to get me and three kids on the boat, leaving a scaredy cat Tallulah on the shore, with...who? Her 5 year old sister, who would have been completely livid about being left behind? Her 11 year old brother, who would sell her for a stick of gum? I wasn't about to plunk down $40 for two rides. So. We hiked the trails instead, and left the paddle boats for another day when dad gets to be with us. I was as bummed as the kids were, truly. Life is sort of set up for smaller families than mine.

That is the downside of having a large family.

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5. Summer officially started for us yesterday. Putting away school uniforms has been blissful. I am really looking forward to having fun with the kids this summer. I hope we go swimming a whole bunch of times. Every year I tell them we'll swim all summer long, and every year I turn out to be a big fat liar. I hope I can end the summer with some Swimming Integrity.

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6. Someone recently asked me what I would recommend for a baby shower gift. Having had one or two of these myself, and having been to a few, I actually have an answer for this! (I usually respond with "Uh, I dunno" when asked questions about babies, their care and feeding, or anything related to hosting parties for them.) Shower gifts are usually of the "care and feeding" ilk, that or the "OMG that is so cute I could just die" ilk. And there is certainly a place, or several, for those kinds of gifts. But I struck on what I thought was kind of unique when I gave a gift of our favorite 6 or 8 children's books to some dear friends of ours when they were having their first child about 7 years ago. Books don't seem to be commonly given at baby showers. It became kind of a tradition that we would give some combination of these books to an expectant family. Giving this gift makes me feel great because these books represent some of our best memories (and current experiences) with our kids. So if you are looking for a creative baby gift, or looking to get some great books for your own kids, here are some of the titles on our gift giving list. I don't want to promote any particular source to purchase these books, so you'll have to google them yourself if you are interested:

A Tree Is Nice
One Morning in Maine
Always Room for One More
My Many Coloured Days -- oooo, love this one. Great for wee one just starting to be read to; we had it in a board book version.
A Time of Wonder -- wonderful and long; good for readers with the ability to sit and be rapt by (or wrapped in) language.
Cowboy Small
Harold and the Purple Crayon

And that's what my memory has fed me today; if I think of more, I will add to that list.

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7. "It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education." -- Albert Einstein; discuss.

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Go to Conversion Diary for the original 7 Quick Takes Friday; she's on Volume 84!

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My Brain is Mush, My Girls are Awesome

Ten soccer games in two days will do that to a brain.

Three of my kids were each in a soccer tourney this weekend, which meant the following:

Saturday
9:00am Monarchs Game
9:00am Rockets Game
9:00am Dolphins Game

Noon Monarchs Game
Noon Rockets Game
1:00 Rockets End-of-Season Party
1:30 Dolphins Game

Sunday
9:00am Rockets Game
10:00am Monarchs Game
10:30am Dolphins Game
3:00pm Dolphins Game

The soccer was great, the teams are amazing, the other families are so much fun to be with, but the real trophy of the weekend goes to my 3 and 5 year old girls, for being such troopers about being hauled from one game to the next to the next and getting into a minimum of trouble the entire weekend. They are total rock stars.

Some day, it will be their turn. For now, they know how to party in the park, charm the socks off of people, scam the snack mom for hand outs, jump up and down to keep warm in the frigid wind, make a game out of throwing bark all over the place, and cheer for their older siblings. Hats off to you, Tallulah and Elizabeth.



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