Finally, more soccer pictures!!

Okay, so you may not have been waiting on the edge of your seat for these...but I have! We had an incident with the camera last week and I was not able to take any pictures of Izzy's game on Saturday. It was dreadful for me not to have the camera. Izzy saved 2 goals from being scored in super fantastic fashion- one included tons of people around the goal and Izzy literally kicking it backwards over her head and out of the goal. Due to that performance her team voted her captain of Sunday's game, which was a pretty big deal for her. If I describe this tournament that she is in one more time, I am going to make myself sick, so I will leave it at "she's playing in a tournament that lasts several weeks" so as not to torture you with the details. This the the defense having their pre-game talk. Are they talking game strategy? Their favorite songs on their ipods? Justin Beiber's haircut? The sex episode on Modern Family? I have no idea, but I am going to invest in a microphone right away.

This is Izzy jumping into action. Can she not use her head? It would make my neck feel a lot better.

Here she is giving another girl a headache. Somehow Izzy came out of it just fine and the ref had to ask #16 of she was going to be ok.

This is her "Leaning" move. In Saturday's game she may have turned up the volume on this move and actually checked -hockey style- and had a foul called on her. When we asked her about it later, she said she didn't mean it, and then in the next breath said it was payback.

Izzy's team mate fractured her heal in that game and it was heart breaking. I don't like to see these girls in pain. Run Forest run!!

Izzy is kneeing the ball out.

This is Izzy scaring the crap out of the other girl.

This is the ball mark that made Izzy smile and say "YES!!" when she saw it.

I don't understand soccer players. But I sure love them!!!

Sports Talk

To say we have been busy is an understatement. On top of having - on average- 5 games per weekend, Morrie also went out of town last week and I had the flu. After 14 days I am still coughing and blowing my nose, but at least I can get out of bed. I consider that an accomplishment.

Last weekend I wasn't in shape to take any pictures, but considering I took 700 the previous week, I'll let it go. We have 2 more weeks of volleyball, and maybe 5 weeks left of soccer. By the time we wrap it up Isabelle and I will be working on her school play a few times a week and then...then...she graduates mere days after the play. It's going to fly by and I'm scared.

There. I said it. I want to put her in my pocket and thank the stars that I have 3 more years with Maria before she goes off to 9th grade. It's like they're going to be thousands of miles away or something. That's how it feels. I am sending them to Yemen. No wait, it's just the local junior high.

This is supposed to be about sports..how do I get off topic like that?

Here is Isabelle keeping her heels in bounds and getting the ball over the net. In a very smelly gym. With no natural light.

Here is she almost ready, but scratching her neck. Super important that I record this moment, don't you think?

Here's my Maria running in the sunshine. So sunny that I didn't need my umbrella. So sunny that I forgot that I laid my umbrella down and and at the end of the game we left. It's still there.

Here is a girl about to knee Maria in the face. Seriously? You know, Maria feels bad as it is because she isn't very tall. This is just adding insult to injury.

Maria likes this picture because she is flying through the air AND she appears taller than everyone else.

Here is another person flying through the air. I will have you know that Isabelle cleared this ball acting normally regardless of the other girl acting like a ninja.

Sometimes I post pictures and try to make some witty comment- and other times I just like to post pictures so my family can see the girls. This is one of those moments. I don't have anything funny or cleaver to say. Just "here's my girl".

I am feeling all sappy now. I need a hug. Mostly because I am still coughing and feeling sorry for myself and I need someone to take care of me. Also because I need to stop hanging out with people who have little kids making me all gummy and squishy for those days when my girls were little. This girl needed a hug too I guess, because she is giving Isabelle one.

She must feel the same way I do. I love that other people love my kids too!


Isabelle thinks she is short. She isn't. She used to be, but she's 13 and 5'2 and she's still got years of growing. Look what she can already do with her looong legs!

She can run really fast with them too.

She can handle a soccer ball with fancy moves too. We survived 5 games this weekend. We are kind of pooped. I ran into a friend at the grocery store tonight and I am pretty sure she has never seen me look so haggard. The only thing that got me through the weekend was my new phone. I have entered the 21st century and I am pretty stoked. I even tested out the camera feature.

He is pretty tired too, can you tell? Can you imagine what he is going to look like when I take a picture of him seeing this post (and this picture) for the first time? It's going to be epic! It's 9pm now and I have to get to bed. God knows when I am going to make it back to this computer to post next, but just know I think about posting a lot! I just am driving to multiple practices each night and rarely get dinner, so the blog has kind of been put on the back burner. Bear with me!

A Typical Week

People often ask me what it's like to have school age kids, or even a teenager in our lives. Even I wondered when my girls were little, what will our lives be like when they start going to school all day instead of being with me? What kinds of things will they be interested in? How will the definition of "mom" change for me with all the new responsibilities that will come our way?

Here is a peek at a typical week at our house:

Monday- Isabelle asked for $11 for a field trip. I amazingly scrounge some up because I don't carry cash that often. She also reminded me that they were having a party at school this Thursday, but I didn't think twice about it because I had already dropped off chips for it last week. That night I dropped her off waaay early at volleyball because I needed to get 2 towns over to pick up Maria at the same time volleyball was to start. I made Isabelle text me every ten minutes to tell me she was ok until the coach got there.

This is typical teenager: She jumped out of the car and ran into the school. Ten seconds later I get a text that says "I'm okay!". I was pretty sure she had made it those ten seconds in tact, but she was kind enough to let me know. I then texted her back that if she wanted her water, then she better come back out to the car and get it.

I picked up Maria on time (phew!) from soccer. She and I made it back home around 7:30 and I think I had toast for dinner while I helped Maria study for her Social Studies test.

Tuesday- Isabelle told me she needed $12 for a math and science notebook that she can buy at school. I am officially out of cash. I get an email that tells me the chips I dropped off for the party on Thursday will not be sufficient and I need to bring a "treat" instead. Siiiigh. Fine.

That afternoon I get a call from home. The girls are home alone and not getting along. I spent 15 minutes on the phone with them getting it all sorted out and hurt feelings back in place. That night, I stop buy a store on the way home from work and they dodn't have anything in the bakery that I had pictured as the perfect delicious cupcake- that would fall under "treat" would it not? It better. I went straight from the store to Maria's volleyball practice where Morrie had dropped her off (and he then took Isabelle to soccer). I watched 14 5th grade girls learn the art of "bumping" a volleyball, while they lip synched to their favorite music that the coach let them bring for practice. I think there was more dancing than spiking, but they sure were having fun! We rolled into our driveway at 8:30, discussing the play that Maria was going to be in on Friday. She was verry excited about it.

Wednesday - It was a crazy morning because it was "Cat in the Hat" day at school and the kids could wear a hat representing a favorite character from a book. Isabelle waited until the last minute to figure this out and re-did her hair 4 times on the way to school so it would fit perfectly under the cowboy hat she had on. Both girls had volleyball pictures that afternoon. $12 each for the pictures, $15 for the 19 year old niece, who helped enormously that day, to take them out for a snack after school before pictures and $20 for her own pocket for managing that whole afternoon for us. I met Maria once again at volleyball practice while Morrie took Isabelle to a training/conditioning class for soccer. Maria was starving after volleyball and she was not entirely pleased that we had to stop by another store to find cupcakes for Isabelle on the way home ($15 for 30 red velvet cupcakes) and then my mom's house to pick up the dog who was playing over there all day. I texted Morrie to please have a plate of food ready for Maria when we walked int he door, because we have learned that when she is hungry, ain't nobody happy. We made it home by 8:00.

Thursday- I send the cupcakes to school with Isabelle and tell her to hand out the chips at lunch one day since they were already at school. Done, and done. I was able to spend an entire 30 minutes at home that night before 6:30. Morrie and I actually sat at the kitchen table together with food in front of us. We were both too tired to talk about anything. I left and picked up Isabelle from soccer and drove her straight to volleyball practice. On the way to volleyball she tells me "Mom, the coach asked me if I would stay an extra 30 minutes tonight for some setting practice". Of course he did! She jumped out of the car when we got there and I went to park. As I made my way into the gym, I saw something dark on the wet pavement. As I got closer, I realized it was Isabelle's soccer shoe that she had accidently knocked out of the car when she jumped out. Thank you thank you thank you to every God, Buddha, Mother Earth, Holy figure out there that I found this shoe!

On the way home I asked her how the party went. She said it was great! I asked if everyone liked the cupcakes. She tells me they didn't have them.

WHAT?

There were 4 of us who brought treats for the party (that 3 grades were coming to). Isabelle's teacher thought the red velvet goodness looked soo good that she wanted to save them for her own class on Friday, because they had enough treats for everyone from the other moms. Are you serious? All that and they didn't even EAT them? I had no words. We were home by 8:45. When we got home Maria tells me that parents are invited to the play that she is doing the next day. Could I go?

This kills me. It hurts my heart. I can't take the afternoon off to come to her play- not only am I 45 minutes away from the school by bus, but I am taking time off next week to be Mom and Dad while Morrie is out of town. This is the suckiest part of being a working mom. I know this hurts her too.

Friday- Maria woke up bouncing off the walls. She was so excited for her play that day. Nobody asked me for money, so I was pretty happy all around. I spent my lunch hour on the phone with Isabelle's new school for next year getting everything sorted out for her registration. It made me all nervous and wishy washy inside as I realized she is really and truly going into 9th grade. I texted her that I loved her and needed to hug as soon as possible.

On my way home from work I picked up my niece from her barista job hoping for free coffee. I needed energy to make it through the triple birthday party we were having for our family that night. My niece is turing 20 and I can't stand the thought!

Morrie handled Maria's soccer practice and before I knew it we were on our way to the party. We weren't there 10 minutes when my stomach collapsed on itself and I became ravenously hungry. Once again I had missed dinner and my sister and brother in law kindly whipped up a delicious piece of chicken to make sure I didn't go all crankypants on them.

The whole goal of our week is to make sure nobody goes all crankypants on anyone else. That is pretty much how we make it throught the week. By the seat of our pants. On a wing and a prayer. Okay, it's really through google calendar.

Our Weekend

This is the snow that cancelled Isabelle's soccer game. Phew! That only leaves us 2 volleyball games and 1 other soccer game to go to!

This is the dog that loves loves loves to chase snow balls.

This is where she sits when she comes back inside and sites for her dog portrait.

Uh-oh! Time to go! This is Isabelle at her very first game:

DOWN AND READY! (they yell this a lot)

I might start yelling it in the middle of dinner to see if anyone responds.

She asked me after the game what she could have done better. Ummm...maybe not be so hard on yourself? Just a thought, after the first game of YOUR LIFE!


OK, throw on some clothes- okay, a lot of clothes, and lets pace back and forth in the freezing weather shall we?

This is Maria coming in too early for the ball, but getting in a nice ankle kick anyway. It looks like her eyes are closed and she is just hoping for the best. That's how I usually play as well.

Weird. Nobody wants me on their team...

This is what it looks like to kick a frozen ball around the field. It makes me cold all over again.

Back to the warm gym I say!

This is all of Maria's energy getting thrown into a serve. She is even gritting her teeth I think. It made it over, and in 5th grade that's all you can really hope for since nobody can return any of the serves. You think I am being funny, but I'm not. Her game of 3 matches lasted over an HOUR. I won't tell you how many times they forgot to rotate on a serve and lost the ball. Then the other team missed their serve and we got it back.

There were looooong stretches of time where no points were scored.

She's eyeing either the ref or the score keepers. Quite frankly, it looks like she paid one of them off before the game.

Once Morrie and I can figure out how to clone ourselves, this will all be a piece of cake. We're hoping to have the gene part figured out by Friday as we have 4 soccer games and 2 volleyball games this weekend. Gulp.

My Worst Day of High School

Now that Isabelle is about to go into 9th grade, I have been telling her stories about my own high school experience, in hopes that she can laugh a little and learn that high school is a completely different universe compared to grade school.
I have already told her about the time I were working in a small group in math and my group was talking about where to buy drugs (I was decidedly quiet), about the time I asked a boy to a dance and he said no (he was waiting for someone else to ask him- and no, he didn't need to tell me that), and about how the girl next to me in Biology tried to convince me to let her copy off my test (except she didn't know I totally and completely did not understand a word of Biology).
I also told her about the good times too- those just aren't as funny as the not so good times.

And so our story begins.

At the end of sophomore year, I was feeling pretty great. I had made some good friends playing volleyball, felt secure in my circle of girls, and we were going to be Juniors! We were going to be able to choose several classes going in to Junior year and I couldn't wait. Upperclassman! They were soo cool, soo mature, and I was going to be one. I had some high hopes for myself. I just knew that my bad hair days were behind me and boys were going to actually like me this next year. It was going to be rad!
I wanted to put in my application for Yearbook for the upcoming year. I was very excited. It seemed like the perfect place for me to start my life as a Junior. I was interested in design, typeface, layout, photography, and here was my chance to put those together.
I waited nervously for 2 weeks and much to my dismay, I was not chosen for Yearbook. This seemed like a repeat of the previous year when I tried out for Cheerleading. I worked really hard at all of the practices, perfected my tryout routine and just knew in the depths of my soul that I was MEANT to be a cheerleader. I could see myself in the uniform. That may have been because my sister let me try on her old uniform, but none the less, this was my destiny. When the list was posted and my name wasn't on it, I walked out of the school as quickly as I could, got in the car for the ride home from school (with 6 friends who lived near me) and had tears silently slide down my face for 20 miles until we got home. It took me a while to get over that one.
The Yearbook news made me crumble a bit inside, but I still had volleyball, right? Plus, I was going to be a JUNIOR. You can't deny the god like status that upperclassman had. They knew their way around, had the good lockers, had 2 years worth of friends, chose their own classes, and had lunch off campus.
I prepared that summer for volleyball tryouts by going to camp with my teammates and was stoked about my life as I knew it would unfold. Yearbook was a distant memory- at least I was trying to squash it down like one. Volleyball tryouts lasted 4 days, and I was happy to have this circle of friends around me again. On the fourth day, the coaches sat on the far side of the gym and talked quietly while we scrimmaged. I remember having awesome block where my team mates high fived me. I looked over at the coaches, but they hadn't seen it. I brushed it off. I was feeling confident. That whole Yearbook memory was fading fast. The coaches read the names of the girls who made JV- but I was a Junior, so my name wasn't on that list. Then she read the names of the girls who made Varsity. Then she thanked us all.
Wait. You didn't say my name. Are you sure? Do you want to double check your list? By this time my heart was a little bit hard. This sucked. What was wrong with me anyway? I had just gotten my braces off, didn't they know my life was supposed to be perfect now? Couldn't they see my straight teeth and immediately tell that I was immune to sophomoric mistakes, that I was a Junior! This was not really in my plan, and I wondered how they didn't know this.
I took a deep breath. I told myself it was okay. I collected my emotions and dumped them in a box and taped it up really good. I thought about going to go to registration the next day where I will get a good locker, and see who was in my classes. This would all be fine. I am an upperclassman now and I would just push that box to the furthest corner of my brain that I could find.
I woke up the next morning and spent quite a bit of time with my curling iron and a bottle of hairspray. I wanted to look perfect for my yearbook photo. If I couldn't help plan the yearbook, then I was sure as hell going to look good in it. Our pictures were going to be in color this year, because we were upperclassman. This was awesome. Finally! I went through registration, got my locker on the 2nd floor, made my way between the buildings and finally made it to the class list. Our Junior class would be divided into 3 groups and all of our classes would be with those people in our group. My group was called "MN". How exciting! I was giddy as I made my way to the list of names. Who was going to be in MN with me? As I ran my finger down the list of names, not one looked familiar.
I slowly re-read the list. What? Not a single person who I had been friends with over the past 2 years was on my list. My stomach dropped. I felt hot. What was going on? I was in my third year and I wasn't going to know anyone? This couldn't be happening. Lunch was going to be off campus for crying out loud. Who would I go with? I felt like I was going to throw up. I left in a daze. By the time I got home, I wanted to be anything but an upperclassman.
Morning came on the first day of my Junior year. The experience of what this year was going to be like, that I had been visualizing all summer, was in the garbage can. I was full of nerves all morning. Getting through math class and French class was not a big deal. I just picked a desk in the back, kept my head down and tried not to sweat. It was coming though. The class right before lunch was Collegio- for normal people you might call it homeroom- with all 60 people in my MN group. This was crucial. I would have to go from this class to lunch, and not a single person had plans to stay on campus for lunch. Was I going to be the only Junior in the lunchroom? I couldn't even think of a dark corner somewhere that I could hole up in for the lunch period. What I didn't know was that I had embarassment of epic proportions coming before lunch.
I picked a desk in the middle of the room, as I needed to spend the next hour looking around and trying to come up with a plan. Would there be anyone who I would be willing to approach about going to lunch? I began to look at the faces around me. Sixty people. I think I felt sweat trickle down my back. One of the teachers asked us to break into small groups for a history exercise. Wait, she didn't say small groups, she said pairs. I looked to either side of me. Everyone in my vicinity turned away from me and paired up people on their other side.

Oh My God.

I frantically searched for anyone to catch my eye- someone. Please. Somewhere. Shit shit shit shit.I think my hands were numb. The teacher looked around to make sure everyone had a pair. Then she said it. "Does anyone not have a partner?"
I was throwing up in my mouth. ohmygod. There were NOT 60 people in my class. There were FIFTY NINE. I had an out of body experience. I felt my arm raise. It may have been shaking. I probably wanted to die. If there was a hole in the earth, I wanted to be in it. Five minutes ago. I felt the blood rush in my ears, drowning out whatever she said next. I think it was something along the lines of "Would someone PLEASE let Andrea be in their group? I will give you 5 extra points if you do. I know you don't know her. Let's consider it a Community Service project, shall we?"
This would be a good time for an earthquake. Or a fire. Somehow, two (actually nice) guys behind me, said I could be in their group. This was horribly miserable. Let's just announce to the entire class that I am a MORON and I SUCK and I HAVE NO FRIENDS. I felt like I had been branded.
I wasn't much help to the 2 guys as I was still pre-occupied with figuring out my lunch hour. Somehow class ended. I wasn't paying attention. People were gathering their things and chatting with their friends. I slowly put my books in my bag and felt like the most retarded Junior ever. Across the room, I saw someone who I knew, but hadn't really spoken with for 2 years. I slumped my shoulders and walked over to her with my bag dragging on the carpet behind me.
Okay, maybe I didn't look that defeated, but it sure felt that way. She was standing with 4 other girls chatting and laughing. I built up some courage from somewhere that I wasn't aware existed and asked what she was doing for lunch. My heart hammered in my head. She very kindly said she was going out and invited me to come along.
Umm...yes! She then introduced me to the other girls. They were surprisingly very nice. I let go a deep breath that I didn't realize I had been holding. The massive insecurity and depressing ache I had been carrying around all morning slowly lifted. We went out. They were nice. They were funny, and they would become my close girlfriends that year. One of them, whom I had met for the very first time that day, would in time, become the best friend I would ever have.
That morning was in fact my worst day of high school. (cue uplifting lusic) Junior year ended up being not so bad (it seriously had nowhere to go but up). I ended up joining the Swim Team that November- because they didn't have tryouts, and nobody got cut! I was told there was this cute guy there from our class who was a good swimmer. I didn't know him, and never would have any classes with him, but when I saw him for the first time...

he in fact

was

pretty cute!

Things were looking up!

We had over 5 hours of soccer fulfillment at one field this weekend. It was about 35 degrees when we arrived at 8:15 in the morning and probably a whopping 40 when we left. I thought they were going to have to remove my toes due to frostbite. Then I came up with a good idea to stay warm: hug Isabelle every time she walked by me. She may have been less than overjoyed.


(can you see it in her eyes? "Please make her stop! Get my mom off me!!")

Isabelle knew that in order to stay warm, she was going to have to make it a physical game.

She is saving a goal from being made in this picture.

She is about to squash this player.

Do you see her arm sneaking up and grabbing the girl in white? I asked her about this later and she had no recollection of it.

I think Isabelle is about to take this girls legs out form under her.

Ball velcros to knee:

We finally made it home after 2 exciting wins. When we got home we had some picking up to do (no big shocker here, since we are never home during the week, we have a lot of catching up to do on the weekends). I won't torture you with the details. Let's just say I used lots of paper towels and windex. I think those 2 items can pretty much clean anything. Everything looks clean when it is shiny. Right? Somehow the piano didn't take too well to the windex.

Just when I thought we had it pretty well taken care of, I looked up and realized we still had our Valentine's decorations up.

Next thing I know, Maria is telling me her ear is plugged, and after 9 days of having a cold, that means a Sunday trip to urgent care (good excuse to leave up the decorations for now!). Confirmed ear infection. Oh and guess what? Apparently our insurance plan has had some changes with the new year, and I had the pleasure of paying $64 for the antibiotics. The same antibiotics that cost me $10 last year. (insert health care debate here)

Well...shoot. When she goes and looks like this, my heart gets all melt-y and I am putty in her hands. I just want her to feel better so I can stop worrying about her and make sure her ears don't hurt anymore. Today I was able to stay home and ask her a 63 times how she was feeling, smoothed her hair back 745 times, asked her to put on a sweatshirt 14 times and told her it was okay to lay down with me as long as she slept on Daddy's side of the bed (I only had to say that once to have her hop right in).

Check this out!

I don't know if this is entirely appropriate. It may be considered stealing or plagiarizing...or something horribly offensive like that for which I will be sent to the Principal's office.

But how about I do it anyway?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

I came across this site: http://www.postsecret.com/ and I pretty much love it.

People send in postcards on which they have written secrets, and they get published to this blog. I thought it was pretty cool- some secrets are heart wrenching, some are funny, and some are uplifting. Some...not so much.

I have posted a few here for you to check out, but let's make sure I don't get in trouble over it and just go check out the website yourself!

Someone will have read that...and they really will take it as a sign and they really will be amazing.

OMG, I love this one!

(My secret? Deep in my heart, down where it is really quiet, i really believe that someday...somehow...i will get to Paris. And when i land, and walk off the plane, and see the city, i know i will cry, because it makes me cry just thinking about it.)