So Timothy’s last basketball game is this Sat. The last time he played, he was three and it does everyone’s soul good to watch three year olds play basketball. They bounce the ball once, it hits their foot and rolls, they run to catch it and accidentally kick it farther away, and the entire pack moves down the court in this manner. Now that he’s older, they take the game a little more seriously.
I’m not a sports-crazy person. I’ll watch a game on TV but I don’t own a Broncos jersey or hat and I’ve never painted my face a weird color for a game. I just wanted Timothy to have a place to run off some energy during the winter and maybe learn a few basic rules of the game. So I have no idea what came over me when I was watching him play and wanting to correct everything he was doing. To be fair, he’s the smallest and youngest kid on the team (because he turned six the last week of the season, they made him play the entire season in the six to eight year old league). But while the other kids were dribbling down the court and grabbing rebounds, he was somewhere in the middle doing The Naked Dance (a dance he invented and perfected at home a few years ago — fortunately he kept his clothes on in public, but I’d recognize those moves anywhere.) He didn’t get the ball once during any game. He made one pass in practice and we all acted like he was Kobe winning the playoffs. I don’t think he got close to even trying to get a basket ever. For a kid (and perhaps, a mother) used to doing well in most things he’s tried so far, it was a good, humbling experience. But when baseball season starts, we’re going to kick some butt.
Kicking and Screaming
So after spending the last six years barely leaving the house, I discovered last weekend that my center of operations has shifted. Between Fri and Sun, we went to two basketball games, one Christmas choir practice, three Christmas choir performances and two parties. I regularly stock winter clothes, diapers, wipes, food, water, blankets, books, toys, a hairbrush, lotion and sunscreen and — somewhere — a toothbrush in the car. I’m now living in it and Parenthood: Phase Two has begun. At least I now have a reason to shower.
Where the h___ did he learn that???
Timothy just said a bad word. We were brushing his teeth and Alexis was playing with a toy in her room that made some noise and Timothy said, “What the h*** was that?” After explaining that we don’t say that in our house during primetime, I asked him where he’d heard it, to which he responded breezily, “Oh, you know…somewhere.” Yes, but where? “Oh…around town.” He’s six. What, exactly, does a six-year old do around town? When asked to elaborate yet again, he said, “TV. And in the city.” At which point I gave up. I think he honestly forgot and was just trying to make me feel better by answering.
Baaaaaaaaa!
Okay, I’m feeling a little sheepish. After complaining about the Christmas play and the Christmas cookies for the play — I got out of most of it. I ended up staying to help for about an hour and a half at the rehearsal and a chef at church volunteered to bake all the cookies (bless his heart). So all my complaining was for nothing. Which just goes to show you that smiling and nodding and passively aggressively moaning to your friends after the fact does work after all. So there.
I’m Just a Girl…
It’s December 2 and I’ve already over-volunteered. I didn’t mean to do it. I’m not even sure how I did. All I know is that last Sunday, I was asking when Timothy’s four-hour Christmas play practice session was and I heard myself say, “Do you need me to stay and help? I can stay!” at which point I had the closest thing to an out-of-body experience I’ve ever…well… experienced. I could hear myself speaking and I was thinking to myself, “Shut up, dummy. You don’t really want to hang out next Sunday with 60 K-6th graders who’ve already been at church all morning and who will probably forget to bring their lunches. You’d rather gut yourself with the Thanksgiving cheese spreader. Shut up, shut up, shut up,” and the Christmas play director was saying, “Really? You’d do that?” and again I was speaking against my will and saying, “Oh, no problem! Sounds like fun!” Fun. Seriously. I said that.
Tonight, the leader of the children’s program on Wednesday nights called and asked if I had a second to chat. I should have thrown down the phone and then set it on fire but instead I said, “Sure!” and by the end of the call I was committed to baking 120 cookies for aforementioned Christmas play and various other Christmas-y events at the church. Again, don’t really remember volunteering but I must have. Knowing myself as I do, I’m sure I agreed readily and probably threw in an “Anytime you need anything!” or something equally ridiculous.
My aunt used to have a Post-It next to her phone that said in bold letters, “Say no to EVERYTHING!!!!!” I think I need to call and borrow it.
