My soccer boys must face a team next week that we angered greatly last week.
We did nothing wrong. Outside of beating them. After the match, they sat on the turf in various stages of disbelief. An older, more experienced team tested and topped by a band of upstarts. It’s a sweet feeling to pull out a win like this.
And now, we must go to their place.
Moments that shape us aren’t limited to wins. Moments of discomfort and fatigue and dismay contribute to that ever-changing DNA of self. No matter what happens next week, the team we will convene as the next day will in part become a result of this match.
It’s not so much what I’m going to do this weekend that stirs the soul.
It’s what I’m not going to do. I won’t put in more seat time than a NASCAR champ. I won’t pry my eyelids open after another late night and early morning wondering when in the hell I’ll get to write on this blog again.
No, there will be seat time – on the couch, with the laptop, watching football, though.
I’ll throw golf discs and I’ll grill. Also, I’ll read. I want you to read too. This long holiday weekend, wherever you are, check out these posts. Each dropped a mic to some degree as I found them (has it really been three weeks?) and you’ll love them too.
Brownie, the runt of the bunch, survived two brothers and a sister. Leo, then Babyface and Cubbie preceded her over the bridge, as they say. Brownie beat them all by several furlongs, but suffered from diabetes and got increasingly weaker in the past few days.
The toughest decision is the one to make the call.
Brownie was one of four kittens I found while driving home from work nearly 14 years ago. They sat lined up on the sidewalk. I walked toward them and they ran away. I walked back to my car, and they came back to me, crying.
I aim for, oh, 1,300 or so words when I put together these #GirlsRocks posts.
Sometimes, that word count doesn’t do it justice. Frances Reimers tested the standard. That’s what happens when you’ve done a few dozen great things – it’s tough to narrow down the line of questioning (you hear me, Joanna Gammon?)
Her latest endeavor, Firestarter LLC, is a brand consulting firm.
You might have come to conclusion I’m kind of proud of my girls.
It’s not all about athletic accomplishments, although that’s part of it. Their character emerges all the time, in moments especially when no one else can see. I’m most proud in those moments.
Those moments are by no means proof of parenting perfected, of course.
The book List Your Self For Parents (Andrews McMeel Publishing, by Ilene Segalove, Paul Bob Velick and Garreth Esersky) includes 90+ prompts for lists parents compile for a series of snapshots of life with kids. I’ve held a copy for years.
No, this isn’t an NPR report on the effect of on race relations. (I think they did one on the Viewfield crater and its impact on we Hispanic people once). But the power of color is so powerful. It’s most noticeable to me in the sporting world.
When Camdyn and I watched the Denver Broncos play the Jaguars in Jacksonville last fall, we felt at home in a sea of orange.
The color silver, for example – stellar on the Detroit Lions’ helmets. Paired with black in oakland/Las Vegas for the raiders? Gross. Blue and white is golden with the Kansas City Royals – it’s deplorable with that ugly scripted LA logo with the dodgers.
It’s been a while since I’ve done an I Believe post.
Not that I don’t still believe, because I do. Some days, it’s easier than others to see it. Every day, though, we carry with us beliefs. Mine pop up in conversation, email, texts, comment responses, court depositions.
Kidding on that last one.
What do you believe? I’m only slightly (and very slightly) embarrassed that probably 37 of 42 statements here are food-related. Forty-two, also, is not by accident. It’s supposed to be the answer to the universe.
You know me. I’m mostly the agreeable type. Sure, I mutter insults to people who tailgate me and blow past me on the highway – all while snapping chats on their mobiles. But for the most part? Live and let live.
Except for, maybe, refs.
Not all refs, mind you. I’ve had enough run-ins with our striped adversaries to write a post on it. I’d be itchy afterward, though. I don’t really want to get into it. How bad does it get?
I wouldn’t go to Sports Clips for awhile because the stylists wore referee shirts.
I’d like to do these once a week, so why not? There’s a divide between my old, beat-up phone and the new replacement. My Google photos won’t sync. So I have pictures on my new phone I can’t get to online, and I can’t get my online photos from my phone.
First world problems, right?
I’ll pick just five at random, and luckily, I have 300-plus to choose from. Amazingly, none are from the trip Camdyn and I took to Jacksonville last fall to see the Denver Broncos play. That trip has made it into every random smartphone post I’ve done!
I powered through my first book reading/book signing. It was kind of unexpected, but a wonderful experience. I wasn’t sure I’d go through with it, honestly. I won’t bore you with the grim details. Let’s just say I made a well-informed conscious decision.
I vowed I would just show my appreciation for all who showed up!
A funny thing happened. It wasn’t just the cup of wine I had before, or the fact that Christine from the blog I’m Sick and So Are You showed up (how badass am I that my friend who showed has a blog name like that?)