When the kids say something about subs at a soccer match, my mind goes to steak and cheese. Or turkey and avocado. It’s just how it is and I can’t change it. But the distraction is mostly temporary.
When I sub a kid into a game, it gives us a bit of a forum to talk that we don’t normally get.
You’re my mom’s favorite coach, but not my dad’s one girl told me. A new player told me how nervous she was to get in. Hayden didn’t spend a lot of time there, but as she waited to go back in after getting her first yellow card, we both tried not to snicker too loud.
I’ve migrated from Elephant Journal and Thought Catalog to Medium and Success Magazine. Plus, lots of blogs. So many blogs. Especially during the #AtoZchallenge. To write on the challenge and not read is like ordering caffeine-free Coke Zero.
All this reading can lead a writer to other writers. That’s how I found today’s guest poster, Cindy. Cindy writes the blog Simple Steps for Living Life. Learn to save time, money and sanity on her site. Good gravy, I could use to conserve a little of all three.
I don’t have time for all this! But also, I’ve been given 24 hours to figure out how to do it all – that’s a lot of time! (I also think about Michelle Gingras, Stonehenge, and Havarti cheese, but that’s for another post.)
What’s left in the middle is that time is time, there’s no time like the present, you can’t make new time, and it’s time to go. Also, I might not have time to finish this post until tonight, which is sorta like getting to the fair 10 minutes before it packs up and hits the road.
Not that big a deal. But, also twice the serving size. (I even cut it only into two pieces, you know? Two-piece maximum.) When I eat half the pizza, I feel normal. Average. So then that other half looks back at me … tantalizing …
Where was I going with this?
Oh, quality. Well, I still can’t remember the exact connection I was trying to make. But it’s almost lunchtime. And I’ve fallen behind on this challenge. And I haven’t been thrilled with the writing quality. I feel like I should write more ahead of time. I feel repetitive.
Not always. I’ve had to wait for the meat lovers pizza to come out at Cici’s. All with the pressure of other carnivores waiting in the wings. That’s a double whammy: Needing patience, and a plan to put pepperoni pizza in your pie hole before everyone else.
It began really when I started to coach soccer.
The kids were little. The challenge was big. When you coach 6-year-olds, you’re at a disadvantage. Instinctively, every dog, airplane or finger-picking opportunity threatens to upstage you and steal your players’ attention.
You either grow patience, or you retire to the other sideline.
They’ve been rounding up for years. When my hair thinned just a hair, they declared me bald. They joke that my social security number is 47. Thing is, I’m probably the youngest 40-something dad among any of their friends.
The best old-guy insult came by one of Hayden’s friends.
\We’ll call her Anabel. I sat with Anabel and Hayden in an amphitheater at Carowinds theme park. We were visitors with the choir and band, I think. We were waiting for the show about dinosaurs to begin – and they were running late.
When I set out on the #AtoZChallenge way, I had ideas.
One, for N, was New Path. It made sense at the time. It should have been N is for Ninety. As in, I’ve written 90 drafts of this post. There are also 2 hours, 22 minutes until the N day is done. So I’d better at least save the N badge before the world turns to O.
I can’t get over the fact that despite us wanting to take new paths, can we, really?
We can hope to alter our next steps. We don’t have the option of a new path. Yesterday, we set our GPS for a Goodwill in Jacksonville, where we were on a getaway. Only, the GPS took us to a building that looked like it could have been a Goodwill.
We do #gratitudeandshit around here. Why not #kickasskindness? Kindness kind of gets a bad rap. Like, me, in middle school, when someone started the rumor that I curled my hair. Psh. It spreads like wildfire. Or negative Yelp! reviews.
People equate kind with weak. But that’s not always so. That’s why I like when one of my players trucks another player then helps her up. That’s sweet, right? It’s like, not in my neighborhood, !@#$!, then, you okay, sister?
It’s time for the letter I in the #AtoZChallenge. I picked three questions with the letter I from the list. They’re also the oldest I questions, so it’s nostalgic. These were probably asked at least six years ago. There are some hilarious early questions in there.
For example: Are jesters slaves to the queen?
Good one. Can’t wait to tackle that one. I suspect it might have arisen as we talked about my employment options at one point. I so was born in the wrong era, y’ all. Ever get that feeling? At least I can still blog about it.
Even though sometimes it feels that way. A friend in need recently asked if I could just put the Zen on a shelf and be pissed off with her. Yes, I can. My girls’ team said, coach, you know, you can be pissed at us sometimes. We need that.
Oh, I’ve been pissed at them.
I’ve been mad at my team not for bad results, but subpar effort. I’ve been ticked at dudes who are crap puddles to female friends of mine. I’m angry about the Rockies’ rocky start and that if Kobe Bryant farts, it gets the headline over any Denver Nuggets victory.