Saturday, August 29, 2015

High School Hilarity

So, the boys--no, make that ALL of us--have survived one whole week of the brand new academic session. As the traffic reporters seem fond of saying: "Things are moving fairly smoothly, with no major incidents to report." However, there are some stories (of course)...

For today, let's start with Tales of the Teenager: Derek cracked me up when I retrieved him from soccer practice on Tuesday by relaying the following: "Remember our hippie English teacher I told you about? Well, today he had us close our eyes while he played music in the background...and read us poetry!" By the way, both his expression and tone of voice conveyed as much disgust as if he'd just...I don't know...sniffed his own soccer cleats. (Trust me on this one...words can barely convey the...putridity. See? They're so bad, I have to make stuff up!) So my response could not have pleased him when I immediately exclaimed, "That sounds awesome! I wanna come to his class!"

(But seriously...is that allowed? It just brings me back to one of the best instructors I ever had in my entire educational career. He was a flower-child-in-spirit, who told us we could call him Tony if we wanted...sometimes perched on  his desk to chat--um, "conduct a lesson"...and had those of us in his 1st period AP History class pitch in a dollar each to purchase an electric kettle so we could have coffee or hot chocolate because "it's too darn early to be here and I'm not allowed to have a beverage unless everyone does." God, I loved that man...sorry for the digression down Memory Lane...where was I?)

Then, I believe it was Thursday night when Derek informed me that he needed me to do something for his homework. Worn out from the multiple days of signing forms and filling out papers and...whatnot...that happens each August, (and does not get any less tedious or annoying with each repetition, imagine that...) I wearily asked him what was required of me this time. It turns out that his Chemistry teacher wants to train his students to use precise language when describing things, so he gave them an exercise where they had to write about a molecule that they had a model of in front of them, bring it home to a parent, and have them attempt to draw it from their child's explanation.

Ooh, cool! I'm game--but I should mention that I have absolutely NO artistic skills whatsoever...and it's kinda hard anyway to translate a 3-D object to a 2-D recreation on paper. So I did my best, but wasn't terribly satisfied with my finished product. (Is anyone surprised? I didn't think so...) But...I remembered Husband's Molecule Model Set...from his own days of studying science at Penn State. Now, we (okay, "I") have mocked him many times over the years for holding on to this antiquated kit, even packing it and moving it from Maryland to North Carolina...but I've gotta confess that it came in handy in just such a...scholastic emergency. When I finished, Derek told me it was pretty close to the original, and I suggested he take a photo to show in class the next day. Somehow, he appeared utterly scandalized by this perfectly reasonable idea.

"Well, then, how about I email your teacher?" I innocently offerred (mwah hah hah)."Mom...NO!" he gasped, "I do NOT want Mr. R to know that my mother went...full-on-nerd...with the molecule set!" (Snickering to self....aahhh, the joy of Torturing Your Teenage Offspring...I think I'm gonna get an A+ in this subject...and it's looking like a fuuuuuuun year already...)

Anywho, next we have soccer ('cuz, you know, it IS the center of all of our lives....or whatever...). When I attended the parent meeting at the beginning of the season, one thing the Head Coach mentioned reaaaallly stuck with me. He was describing team policies, and how the coaching staff tries very hard to help the boys stay out of trouble as much as possible. At one point he said something like, "I think of it as, the cupcakes are still gooey", pointing to his head and grinning wryly, "so they don't always make the...smartest decisions." (Oh, my gosh...how much do I L-O-V-E that analogy? Yep, I'm totally adopting that, starting now...) They also had concussion baseline testing, both neurological and in questionnaire format, in which, for example, the players had to estimate how often they experienced symptoms such as "short-term memory loss, brain fogginess, and inability to focus". When Derek was telling me about this, he huffed, "I don't know what they expect me to say...I'm a 15-year old boy...I feel this way on a daily basis!" (Hahahaha! Yet so true...)

So later in the week, it should have come as no shock at all that he came home from school and ever-so-casually led off a conversation with, "Apparently our new thing at lunch is walking around and screwing with people." (Oh...goodie? Can't wait to hear where this is going...) He continued, "Yeah, one of my friends has a Referee App on his phone (well, of course he does...) so we go up to someone, bump into them, fall down, and he uses the app to blow the whistle and give them a yellow card." Oh. Good Grief. My first inquiry naturally had to be: "Did you get in any trouble for this?" When he responded "nah", I could admit...that sounds pretty hilarious. Except that in a super-genius move, Derek performed this feat one time on the concrete sidewalk...scraping the HECK out of his arm in the process. It was all good, though, as another one of his buddies jumped in to pretend to provide medical support, stabilizing his head and asking him mental-orientation questions before agreeing that he could be moved. Ay yi yi...

Yep, those high school noggins could definitely could use a wee bit more time in the oven, right? But hey, at least they're using their considerably creative powers for...entertainment....rather than...wait, on second thought, let's not give them any other options! And just think, only 35 more weeks to go...siiiiiighhhhh

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Getting to Know Greensboro

The fact that I was working this Summer caused the boys and me to miss out on our usual Friday Field Trips. So with only a few precious days left until the return to academia...and all the hoopla that accompanies it...I threw together one last mini-getaway. And, in order for Husband to be able to accompany us, we broke tradition and scheduled it for a Saturday...thus Team WestEnders ventured westward...to explore the little town of Greensboro, North Carolina.

Our first stop involved a battlefield. (I know, right: shocker! Eventually I'll run out of them, but for now, the cannons keep calling to me...and no, I do NOT have any rational explanation for this...tell ya what, let's just go with "history fascinates me", okay?) The clash at Guilford Courthouse during the Revolutionary War was a relatively minor blip in the course of the colonies' fight for independence from the British. It involved two reportedly talented and seasoned generals--Nathanael Greene and Charles Cornwallis--grappling for control of the southern region.

In the end, although it appeared that Cornwallis's more organized and disciplined troops had prevailed, they also suffered heavy casualties, causing their commander to decide upon a retreat toward the coast. Meanwhile, Greene's losses were lighter, and he opted to turn further south and concentrate on recapturing South Carolina and Georgia, rather than follow Cornwallis to Virginia. Greene successfully regained those areas from the British, while Cornwallis encountered defeat in his campaign, and ultimately surrendered in Yorktown 7 months later, effectively ending the war and ensuring the rebel victory.

Okay, have you had enough lecturing for one day? Yeah, me too. What really mattered to us was that we had a lovely time strolling through the wooded park, admiring the statues...and acting all silly with the artillery (ahem...BOYS...what can you do?) From there, we sought out a lunch spot I'd found when researching our excursion. Manny's Universal Cafe--it was one of those tucked away in a neighborhood, off-the-beaten-track, "great reviews on Trip Adviser" kinds of places. My assessment? Super-slow service, but what you were waiting so long for turned out to be absolutely delicious, home-cooked food. Worth it in the end for a brief rest from all of our running around...

Next we made our way to the Greensboro Science Center, which includes an aquarium section and an outdoor Animal Discovery Zoo. I'll be honest...we kind of geeked out over the whole experience...but some of our favorite highlights would have to be: dipping our hands into an enormous water tank to touch stingrays as they glided by; cowering in the presence of tarantulas and snakes in the herpetology room (they were behind glass, but still...creep-tastic...); marveling at gibbons as they leaped and swung around their enclosure--one with a tiny, fuzzy newborn clinging gamely to her belly as she flew through the air. Extremely entertaining...and educational! Seriously, what more can you want?

We had about an hour to kill before we had to show up for our final item on the evening's agenda, so we stopped off for a shady, restful, commune-with-nature kind of interlude at the Greensboro Arboretum. While the Male Posse dug into the snack stash I'd packed for just such an "Oh, my gosh, it's been HOURS since we last ate" emergency (Yeah, I know my family) I wandered around in a sort of...walking meditation...while enjoying the flora.

At last, the time had arrived for the Grand Finale: a minor league baseball game. Yes, folks, we were gearing up for a Single-A meeting between the hometown Greensboro Grasshoppers and their division rival, the Hickory Crawdads. (Who comes up with this stuff? Ridiculous...yet genius at the same time...) We were there for the ambiance, because the 'Hoppers, as they are affectionately known, came into the night's proceedings with a less-than-impressive 16-38 record, good for dead last place in their league. (Who held the top position? Um...the Crawdads...it did not bode well...)

As far as the action on the diamond...I can tell you that I've seen better pitching...and fielding...when watching 12-year olds in the Little League World Series on ESPN. It was...well, pretty much "comical", to say the least. I'm sure the players--professionals though they're supposed to be--were not aided by the cacophony of hops-fueled yelling emanating from several rows behind us. These undeniably enthusiastic...yet often obnoxious...fans were supporting the visiting team...and it was all well and good when they were encouraging their preferred players, with personal cheers that called them by name.

But as the night wore on, they also began taunting the Grasshoppers...such as counting the walk-of-shame steps back to the dugout after each and every strikeout (it took us some time to catch on to what in tarnation they were doing...for a while we were like "So you know your numbers up to 20...whattya want, a cookie? 'Cuz we're certainly NOT offering you another beer, that's for sure!") Apparently they paid attention to the pre-game announcements as well, since at some point they began needling the umpires: "Hey, John, what's with that call? You're killin' me out there!" Ay yi yi. However, in the end, Greensboro had the last laugh, crafting a come-from-behind rally, scoring 4 runs in one inning, and winning 7-4. Ha! Take that...crustaceans!

Befitting a minor league franchise, the Grasshoppers have their own special gimmick...a black lab who sits with her trainer beside the dugout and retrieves bats and balls during the home half of each inning. She's not only adorable and beloved by regular attendees, but evidently she's participated in 643 straight games. And to top off the surprising and satisfying victory, we even got a fireworks display before heading home.

Whew...what a complete package of a day...we got history...science...botany...physical activity (22,000 steps, according to my handy dandy Fitbit) and sports, to boot! Now there's nothing left to do but send the youngsters back to school...so their parents can rest up!

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Summer....and Soccer...and School...and Stuff

This week seemed to me to have a certain, subtle sensation pervading it...like a slight twinge of nostalgia...or a lingering feeling of opportunities slipping away...or the bittersweet scent of OH, MY GOSH, SUMMER'S OVER, HOW THE HECK DID THAT HAPPEN? Yeah...that's the one.

For me, it could have been the first week of work, (yep, new job, more on that later, you know, when I actually start and all) but the HR lady wasn't available for me to come in and fill out the paperwork yet, so I'll be joining the semester-already-in-progress. For Derek, who finally found out on Monday that he made his high school soccer team, the very rewarding and exciting news came with a teensy downside: practices all week at 7 a.m. (Gulp. He has actually stated that going back to school will be at least a relief--if not necessarily a pleasure--as it will allow him to stay in bed past 6...)

The CHHS Tigers did have a nice change of pace on Tuesday, when they played their first game of the young season. Husband and I were thrilled to be spectators, cheering them on to a solid 3-0 victory...although in the future, I will absolutely need to purchase one of those dorky seat cushions to bring with me, 'cuz Holy Bony Butt, Batman, those dang metal bleachers are HARD.

Meanwhile, Riley happily continued the Perpetual Weekend routine he's been following during the break...waking up to his own internal alarm...lying in bed either reading or playing on his phone for a while...eventually meandering downstairs for breakfast...viewing some quality daytime TV with his brother. (I swear the two of them have gotten hooked on reruns of Bones, which again is totally my fault because they caught me watching it fairly frequently...eh, at least it's science-y, right?) Then of course there's the Outdoor Interlude and the Period of Video Games. Yeah, academics are just gonna mess up his carefully crafted Life of Leisure, I tell ya.

And speaking of school, on Wednesday we got to pick up Derek's schedule for his Sophomore year. He didn't get one of his first-choice electives, but hopefully he enjoys the alternative....or if not, we went through the Class Change process last year, so we know the drill. By instantly texting his friends, he found out these details: his History teacher has a reputation for being "nice". And several of his best buds are in her class along with him (perhaps testing that quality...time will tell...). Some Upperclassmen on the soccer team informed him that his Chemistry instructor is demanding. ..and his English teacher is apparently "a hippie". (To which I replied that one of my all-time favorite teachers in high school was a proud flower child...and super-smart, laid back, and an absolutely awesome educator...so I have my fingers crossed that he he has the same experience).

Then Riley got a call from his 1st period teacher (Language Arts, this year), so he'd know where to show up on Day 1 of 7th grade. He won't receive his full course schedule until he arrives on Monday, so he's left in anticipation of what order he gets his chosen electives. He'll find out soon enough....mwah hah hah!

While we had already done the supply run, we did have to make several trips to sporting goods stores this week, thanks to soccer. Since the coaches didn't make their final cuts until almost the 11th hour before their first match, only jerseys were distributed. Thus--although we possess multiple pairs of green and yellow socks from club play--we were required to obtain white ones. The first set we bought had a couple of stripes around the top part...which we subsequently found out is strictly prohibited...sigh. Back out we went, for a completely, 100% PLAIN pair.

Next, the coach shared a truly horrifying story with the impressionable youngsters, about a medical condition called Testicular Torsion. Evidently this befell a member of the team in the past, and it involves an enormous amount of excruciating pain...and surgery to remedy it. Derek (shuddering) said that the man provided a graphic visual demonstration by twisting his keychain...thus scarring the boys for life...while also ensuring that they would rush home and ask their parents to take them out for compression shorts, which are supposed to help prevent the problem. Now, I obviously don't possess the...ahem..."equipment" in question, so perhaps I'm not qualified to speak of this...but I just don't understand how this happens...while one is merely running up and down the field. (That's okay, please don't feel the need to explain it to me, I'm probably better off not knowing....)

Finally, Derek came home from practice yesterday and said, "I forgot to tell you that in high school, you have to dress up on game days." "Oh, right," I nodded, "I remember that from way back when. You're supposed to look presentable, representing your team when you go visit another school." He gave me a slightly confused look, "Nooo...we change before we leave...we just have to wear nice clothes for our own classes." Oh...kay...that makes less sense...but sure, we'll just go with it.

Of course, my child doesn't actually OWN any fancy apparel, as he refuses to don anything but shorts and t-shirts when he emerges from the house. "So," I sighed, "what do we need to go buy you?" He replied brightly, "It's up to the Captains, and they just told us that khaki shorts and a polo would be fine!" Well...awesome! Don't get me wrong--it still means we have to undertake a shopping trip before Monday, but it could be a lot worse, I suppose. When I think about it, though, I'm not really surprised by the informality of the Dress Code...because every time I see the Varsity Head Coach he seems to be wearing a yellow Chapel Hill Soccer shirt, cargo shorts...and flip flops. Derek assures me that this is his standard uniform, even during the school day...and the man teaches Physics, for crying out loud. (And by the way: L-O-V-E it...just one more reason he seems like a great guy...)

So, that's the weekly wrap-up...and incidentally, I'm very grateful that I had the time I needed to run around and get these things done as they cropped up--this brief respite between jobs couldn't have come at a better time, as it turned out. (Yeah, I totally planned that...or, whatever....) Now we have a chance for one last Family Field Trip to round out our Summertime fun (and let's not forget an excursion to Kohl's for the "Soccer Outfit") before the crazy hamster wheel that is the School Year begins anew on Monday.....wheeeeeeeeeee......

Monday, August 17, 2015

More Maryland Meandering

You know how, in a whirlwind vacation where you're hopping from place to place, seeing as many loved ones as possible, fitting in as much activity and entertainment as you can, it's good to pencil in a brief respite somewhere in the middle, to allow for a bit of relaxing downtime? On this trip, we called that "Walkersville Day". On Friday, Husband went to the office for his last meetings and whatnot, while the boys and I headed further north to join the friends who would be putting us up (and, well, "putting up with us"!) for the weekend.

About that excursion...let me just say, here, that after a little over a year away from the Extended D.C. Metro region, I guess I had forgotten (or blocked out...or purposely misremembered....whatever gets you through the day, right?) the utter NONSENSE that defines traffic on the local roadways. It was about 10:30 on a Friday--safely past Morning Rush, and well before the Evening Nightmare--yet there were just...too damn many cars. And their drivers were operating them in a manner that I can only describe as "quite erratically unpredictable" and also...um..."just plain stupid". Even worse, somehow each and every one of them was IN MY WAY. Holy Gridlock, Batman, chalk this one up to "things I do not miss since I moved"!

However, we did eventually arrive at Hotel Hill-people, and were greeted with a calm and restful atmosphere. That is, of course, relatively speaking...with the presence of 3 boys (aged 12-15)...and one tween girl...who had just picked up her new kitten (adding to the household's already-existing 2-feline menagerie). So, yeah, maybe there was a wee bit of chaos...but at least we didn't have to drive through it! And really, any day that includes chatting with old friends, and is capped off by beer and pizza--that's a good one, yeah?

The next morning--I've lost track, but I think it was Saturday at this point--Team WestEnders returned to my dad's, to spend more time with the family. Later that evening, we would be traipsing to Baltimore for our one and only opportunity to see the Orioles this season. (Yaaaayyyyyy!) As it turned out, my sister's boss had gifted her with the company's seats for the night as well, so she would be bringing the nephews and 1 of their pals...thus ensuring that the cousin-bonding...and goofiness...could continue well into the night.

Now, Camden Yards is one of our favorite spots on Earth, so we were thrilled to be there--despite the August heat. Early on, we watched the Os fall into a 3-0 deficit, which was not terribly pleasing. But then we got to witness Chris Davis hit a home-run bomb that the As outfielders didn't even bother to make a run for (or even glance up at, as a matter of fact...it was that much of a sure thing). And while I was out on the concourse on a quest for popcorn, the home team tied the score...setting up a potential dilemma. You see, while I do love baseball, I have about a 3-hour tolerance limit for sitting and paying attention to an actual contest. So...I have been known...on occasion...to lobby for leaving prior to the last out in the 9th...when I've had my fill, or it's a slow game, or we're being blown out by the opponent...or what have you.

This is not, as you would imagine, a popular stance with the 15 and 12-year olds....hence the possibility of conflict. I believe the words "Fine! You can just WALK home!" might have been uttered to the sputtering, indignant "We're staying no matter what" contingent. Besides, we were ALL pretty exhausted from the extravaganza o'fun we'd squeezed into the previous 3 days. And we had a looong, potentially icky (because yeah, it usually lives up--or down--to expectations of difficulty, unfortunately) commute back to NC the next day.

But it was all knotted up, cruising into the bottom of the 9th inning...when Chris ("Crush", as he is affectionately known to Orioles loyalists) Davis saved us by bashing another round-tripper to end the stalemate...and the argument. So now we're totally spoiled...each time we come to our special Summer game at Oriole Park, we expect to see a spectacular finish, and a WIN. (Okay, Baseball Gods? Thanks a bunch..we will gladly provide a sacrifice...of  hotdogs... in your honor...) Bonus: for the first time ever, we even got to see the unique ritual known to all Os supporters: the Adam Jones pie-in-the-face delivery to the Player of the Game as they're being interviewed on the field afterwards.

We've caught it on TV before, but I didn't realize that at the home stadium, the crowd signals Adam's arrival by issuing a synchronized, 40,000 people-strong audible roar of anticipation, because they know darn well what's coming. So it's hilarious that he can't even sneak up anymore. And Chris very calmly removed the microphone he was wearing to speak to the reporter, protecting it from the gooey goodness he was about to receive, and graciously accepted his...squishy reward. Even more hysterical, he then replaced the headset as if nothing had happened, and continued to film the segment...without even opting to wipe his face. Priceless, I tell ya.

Whew....that was a whole lotta excitement for one evening. From there, it was back to the Hill Country, for a snooze. One final breakfast the next morning, and it was time to bid farewell to Maryland once more. The Male Posse took Husband's car, as I had a last engagement before getting fully underway--coffee with a former interpreter-colleague. And since I usually vent about the southbound trek by disparaging Virginia in general terms, this time I've decided to target my rant more specifically. Springfield: sucked (for no apparent reason). Quantico--with all due respect to the Corps, whom I hold completely blameless for the situation: sucked (also no obvious cause). Fredericksburg: hmm, how can I sum up...suppose Dante had written Traffic Inferno...Fredericksburg would surely comprise a Circle of Hell in its own right...eternally.  Richmond: uncharacteristically, sucked (due to an accident....just to keep things fresh). Route 85: you guessed it (this one attributable to construction zones taking away lanes...grrrrrr).

And, there you have it. We did eventually stagger into Chapel Hill, shell-shocked from the 7 hours of car-bound....delightfulness. (Oh yeah, that was just me....the boys all seemed fine. They must have been in the Non-PMS Vehicle...) Anyway, it was a wonderful visit, filled with all kinds of memory-making experiences. So to everyone who made our time in Maryland so awesome: thanks for everything...see you in December!


Friday, August 14, 2015

Olney Odyssey

So, with Husband still having to keep the proverbial nose to the grindstone, the boys and I designated this as Olney Day. First we met one of my friends at the local bagel joint for breakfast and coffee (or chocolate milk, as appropriate). Since they'll probably read this at some point, I'll make sure to note that the boys were very patient and understanding while the women chatted  to their hearts' content. (At least, right up until the moment they began inventing some sort of competition that involved knocking their empty plastic bottles across the table at each other...aaaannnd were subsequently advised to go the HECK outside for some fresh air...)

Then we had some time to kill before our next food-themed reunion, so we drove through the old neighborhood and surrounding area to see what had changed. (The short answer: the never-ending saga of home building and road construction has seemingly continued unabated in our absence...yaaaay...) We even had a few minutes to stop by a store we used to like, to purchase commemorative magnets--for Riley's school locker, our fridge in Chapel Hill, and my car, next to the NC license plate--that would serve to remind people where we originally came from (similar to the one shown below).

From there, it was time to move on once more, and join 2 of my college girlfriends at one of Team WestEnders' most-beloved eateries, the one we miss when we're away, and that we try to get back to each time we return, if possible: California Tortilla. And yes, this meant that the darling children had to sit pleasantly and peacefully for yet another couple of hours while the ladies talked about stuff that was of no interest to them whatsoever....which they did...until they got too bored and opted to go outside of their own volition. (I also suspect the level of cooperation I received from them was directly related to the fact that they were being FED quite handsomely in exchange--I do know how to work my audience, yeah?)

With about an hour left until Derek was scheduled to rendezvous with some of his middle school buddies at a nearby park, we hit up another popular hangout spot: the public library. Free WiFi network, unlimited supply of books and magazines...cushy armchairs...what else could you possibly want? When we dropped Derek off at the basketball court to--I'm not really sure, but I suspect "have tons of goofy conversations and...other silly teenage boy...stuff"--Riley and I proceeded to wander around on foot, soaking up the atmosphere of a rare, non-humidifed, 80-ish-degree August day in the D.C. Swamp Region.

Finally, I requested that we make one final, slight detour, at Lake Needwood for a stroll through the woods. Because soon we would have to gird ourselves to for the epic Battle of the Commute, as the clock had now reached Montgomery County Rush Hour (From Hell...it's just kind of implied and understood by the natives...and former denizens...) while we tarried on our social calls. I have to say, the forest was lovely, and the water looked so serene and appealing...but the overall effect was somewhat marred by the numerous neon yellow signs posted prominently on trees every couple of feet, warning you to stay out of the lake, due to the presence of "blue green algae"...which could lead to liver failure if ingested. Well, now...that sort of puts a damper on the whole "natural beauty" thing, doesn't it? We'll just admire from a safe vantage point on the trail, then...

Anyway, we did enjoy the scenery, at least, before fighting our way back to the hotel one last time on the overcrowded, traffic-snarled roadways. It was a full, rewarding day of catching up with old friends, revisiting special places, and most of all, having a whole lotta FUN. Not a bad way to spend a late-Summer Thursday, if I do say so myself!

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Merry in Maryland

One of the reasons it felt like the right time to leave my job had to do with the fact that Husband would be traveling to Maryland for yet another business-related command appearance this week. (Or, you know, "Management Training Session"...or whatever the crazy kids are calling it these days...) You see, school and soccer will be starting up again very soon for the boys, and this represents our last chance to visit the family, friends, and places we used to haunt "back in the day" .  So, he drove the Hyundai Express northbound on Monday, to show up for his meetings and whatnot, and the boys and I took the later, more leisurely Subaru Shuttle on Wednesday.

Since he would be tied up with work stuff anyway, we skipped stopping at Husband's hotel, and instead powered straight through to my father's house, There, we enjoyed the usual scene--mostly involving cousins running amok (front-yard baseball, Capture the Flag, street hockey, basketball...among other varieties of silliness). While the kiddos kept each other occupied, the adults--me, my siblings, and my dad--took advantage of the chance to conduct relatively peaceful chats and catch up on all the news....before the chaos that typically characterizes an Extended-WestEnders dinner...where 5 out of the 9 participants are under 16. (And...um..."loud talkers"...did I mention that?)

After the meal, my niece, my sister and I escaped for a twilight Girls-Only Stroll, while the herd of boys...I don't know...chased each other and rolled around like puppies for a bit longer...as they tend to do. Finally, my sister and I settled down on a blanket to stargaze, hoping to catch some of these much ballyhooed Perseid meteors streaking across the awesomely star-speckled night sky, uncluttered by ground lights as it remains in my dad's neighborhood. (We did spot a few, but gave up after about an hour of becoming increasingly chilly--oh, right, that would be just ME--without quite enough payoff to make a continued effort worth the time. Someone told me today that supposedly the best opportunity for a spectacular show is "just before dawn"...but this phrase is utterly ridiculous and doesn't make any sense to this sleep-loving chick...so clearly it just wasn't going to happen...)

Then it was time to say "hasta luego" but not "adios", because we're coming back on Saturday to spend the day with my family again. NOW it was time to head to the hotel and reunite with Husband...just in time to go to bed. Scintillating conversation: "Hi, dear...it's been a verrrry long day, and we're exhausted...good night!"

Thus ends our first day as visiting dignitaries from the South...or...um....participants in a Southern Exchange Program? Players to Be Named Later? Eh, whatever....we're just happy to be here!

Saturday, August 8, 2015

It's just not working for me...

Sooooooo...about this whole "re-inventing yourself"...thingie...turns out it's not necessarily such a... straight path as I might have wished. Let's recap: after a year of searching, I was hired for a position, and I accepted, thinking I'd finally stumbled onto something offering that elusive "right fit". I felt grateful and relieved that the stressful, difficult cycle had come to an end....no more scanning online job boards/applying for openings/waiting/being rejected or--more commonly and worse, in my opinion--hearing nothing. However, 6 weeks later I've decided that I was, in fact, mistaken...and I need to move on yet again.

Let me quickly and firmly state that there was nothing wrong with the job itself--a solid company, lovely people, pleasant place to work, yadda yadda yadda. Nope...it was a classic case of "It's Not You, It's Me"...but, you know, in a "professional" rather than a "dating" sense. For one thing, I'd been working 3 days a week for the past 14 years in my previous job (yep, that would be "ever since Derek was born"). However, in this particular position they adamantly wanted someone there Monday through Friday, during a very fixed timeframe (which totally made sense in terms of the assigned duties and whatnot). "No problem," I thought. "The kids are older now. I'll be getting off at 2:00. I should have plenty of time to get...all of that "other...critical...household junk"...done."

Um...yeah..Not. So. Much. I constantly felt like the proverbial "chicken sans head"...or...ooh, I know: a reeeaaallly bad circus performer, attempting to juggle flaming knives, and dropping them on her feet instead! (Yeah, yeah, so I'm a Drama Queen...tell me something I DON'T know...) Also, rather than spending time with the boys this Summer, taking field trips and doing fun stuff like we always have, it seems like I barely saw them. I realize there are many, many mothers who work full-time and do it perfectly well, or who manage to keep everything under control in much tougher conditions ...I've just discovered that I'm not one of them. I think, ideally, I'd prefer something 4 days a week, giving me that all-important "grocery shopping/Target/Costco/whatever the heck else comes up" window...without spilling over into the evenings (which are dedicated to shuttling children to soccer practices) or weekends (you guessed it: soccer games).

And yes, there is definitely an element of guilt at play, here. I mean, why can't I be...Darla-Do-It-All? The answer is, I suppose I could...but for me the equation felt...unbalanced. The amount of satisfaction I was receiving from working, plus the amount of money I was actually contributing to the Bottom Line...did not nearly equal the level of discontent and discombobulation I was suffering from while trying to coach both the Home and Away teams and--even more crucial to this highly-organized, tightly wound individual--keep things running smoothly, in the manner to which we've all become most accustomed and comfortable.

So...bit of a figuring-it-out-curve to this whole "Life's Journey" process, yeah? Fortunately, I've often described myself as a "lifelong learner" anyway, so that makes it a bit easier to swallow. And really, this experience has been a valuable teaching tool--helping me identify what's most important to me, and focus my priorities a little better. (At least I believe so...we'll see how it goes...) So for now, it's back to the hamster wheel of sifting through available options and sending resumes into the black hole of cyberland and hoping for a response. In the meantime, speaking of Stuff That Matters, I suddenly have a gap in my schedule to fit in a last-minute jaunt to Maryland before the merry-go-round of school and soccer truly starts spinning in dizzying circles (...as it tends to do). A short-but-precious Family and Friends interlude, then it's back to the old grindstone...with renewed purpose and a clearer sense of....whatever it takes to find just the right mix of meaningful employment and dedication to taking care of Team WestEnders.

There's gonna be a LOT going on...but in the meantime, it's Saturday night, and being all grown-up and such means I've earned myself an adult beverage. Cheers! (And stay tuned...)

Monday, August 3, 2015

Yet Another Soccer Story

In the midst of a Summer characterized by lounging about the house...wasting time...and being as purposely unproductive as humanly possible, Derek recently had to switch gears and...make a decision. (Gasp! In case you're wondering: yes, the process DID almost cause him bodily harm. Fortunately, he wrestled through it...) You see, back in the Springtime, the high school soccer coach had held an "interest meeting", to discuss next year's team. Derek, of course, attended that informational session...yet managed to provide almost no concrete details about it to his parents when all was said and done. (I know: shocker, right? Ah...teenagers...gotta love 'em...)

However, one thing Coach C. had mentioned that stuck with my son was the potential for a camp-type-situation in the Summer, to focus on conditioning and skill development. And whattya know, the time for that seemed to be approaching. As it turned out, I obtained the relevant facts just in time, since the camp would be held the last week in July and we had to sign up immediately in order for Derek to participate. So here came that choice I alluded to earlier--did he want to essentially give up 4 days of his freedom...to run around in the heat and generally work his butt off training for the soccer season...a week before he absolutely had to? He waffled about it for a couple of days, his only stated concern being "I'm not sure I have 12-hours-a-day of soccer in me!"

But in the end, he wisely determined that the upsides made it worthwhile to go--such as the fact that it would be held at UNC (3 miles away), and run by their professional NCAA coaching staff, who would be sharing their invaluable experience, techniques, and wisdom with the players. Another obvious perk was that Coach C. would be there as an observer, basically scouting his own potential players a week before tryouts...which you can't help but think might give them an edge when it came time for him to select his team's roster.

Therefore Derek geared himself up for the whole thing--drills, strategy sessions, cardiovascular workouts, games...and whatnot. (All of which would undoubtedly involve copious amounts of exertion...and sweat...) Mostly when he returned home between blocks of training, he reported that it seemed to be going well...but there was one glaring exception. When we registered him, the only option was "with meals"--which sounded absolutely great at the time. They'll feed him there, and we won't have to bother with packing food, keeping it cold, worrying that he has enough, etc. So the first evening, he went to the cafeteria for dinner. Strangely enough, this actually involved a parent shuttling him from the fields--which were not located exactly on campus--to the dining location, and then back for the evening match. Husband took the first shift, and when Derek got back into his car after eating...he promptly....ahem...regurgitated his delightful meal...including copious amounts of red Powerade that he'd consumed...all over the car. (Which I then temporarily dubbed the Yackmobile...thanking the heavens it wasn't MY vehicle!)

Oh. Dear. That, by the way, was Derek's first, extremely unpleasant, run-in with campus cuisine...needless to say, he was much less than thrilled. (But I've heard it said that UNC's food is really quite good--so I can only assume that they're using a different service for the lowly campers who are only there for a couple of days!) Upon finishing for the night and telling me the story, he cheerfully relayed that as soon as he'd thrown up, he felt perfectly fine. And he added reassuringly, "It didn't affect my playing at all!" (Awww, thank you, honey--because that's definitely what I was most concerned about! Sheesh...) Incidentally, the next day at lunch he only attempted 2 bites before feeling queasy and giving up. So we gave up on that, and instead started sending him with fruit, and energy bars, and lots of his own snacks. (So much for that extra $75 the camp charged for food!)

Meanwhile, the middle 2 days were the longer, more intense ones, and Derek would come home dragging with fatigue. In fact, one day he passed by me in the hallway, and when I asked where he was heading, he lethargically raised one arm a couple of inches, waved it weakly in a general-forward direction, and...grunted. Seriously, he was so exhausted that "caveman" was all he could muster in the way of meaningful communication at that point in time. But by the second afternoon, he summoned just enough pep to deliver a (totally fake) mini-rant: "That's it, sports are STUPID! I'm taking up...shuffleboard! Yeah! Just as soon as I learn how to play!" Then, having spent his available energy reserves, he flopped facedown on his bed to enjoy a restorative coma until it was time to go back and kick the ball around some more.

The other big laugh came on the last day, when apparently--according to Derek's colorful commentary afterwards--his squad faced a team full of "19-year olds...with full beards!" (Because that's Derek's standard description of kids who are older and more physically mature than he is, these days...) Furthermore, Coach C. put Derek in to guard one of the larger, faster players. Derek reported that although the guy got past him repeatedly, he always caught up, and managed to prevent him from scoring. This evidently caused Derek's teammates to begin referring to him as...D-Money....which they would gleefully yell from the sidelines whenever he won an encounter with the opposition. (No, we will NOT be adopting that particular nickname at home, thank you very much....)

So there you have it. Derek survived his grueling pre-season soccer tuneup and is ready to face the actual tryouts...which began this morning at 7:30 a.m...and continue this evening at 6:30 p.m. (Does that make you tired just thinking about it? Yeah, me, too...) After the early shift, Derek told us that the upperclassmen have kept his new moniker...so here's hoping that D-Money is playing well, and is chosen for the team! (Fingers crossed, please, everybody! And stay tuned...)