Cinco de Mayo Celebration

I know, I know, Cinco de Mayo was almost two weeks ago, but I've had so many things to tell you I haven't had a chance to share my fun pics with you (and Teach is getting mad at me because I asked her to take a bunch and then I never used them).

No, I'm not Hispanic, but my SIL is, effectively making my grandsons Hispanic too. Not that it matters, we started celebrating Cinco de Mayo long before Gamer was part of our family. It began as (what else?) a scout project and ballooned from there.

We always cook Mexican food (this year it was sweet pork like Cafe Rio) and we love to bash around a pinata for a while. Gamer is in charge of the pinata. We get it much cheaper if we send him to the Mexican store. This year he brought back some fun and different Mexican candy (usually the sweetness is overpowered by the peppers, but not this time). We got caramels, suckers, marzipan, and some kind of gooey stuff that Crafty absolutely loved.

The pinata got off to a rocky start. It was shaped like a bucket and extremely heavy even though it was only half full. We let the kids whack at it in age order starting with Baby Doll. She was pretty upset about swinging at those princesses...

Then Curly made a valiant effort...and so on, up the line. The Dog Walker didn't try very hard because he said he really didn't want to break it. All the kids started chanting for the Gym Rat. They just knew with his awesome rippling biceps that he would be able to crack it open!

And he did...

He also smashed the dickens out of the candy!

Half the suckers were in powder form, the other half had lost their sticks completely. Tootsie Rolls had been knocked right out of their wrappers! I don't think the kids will hope for the Gym Rat to pick up the bat again any time soon.

Playing Ball...again

When my sweetie and I left town in September of 1983 to start our new life together, it never really occurred to me that my softball-playing days might be over. But then I got pregnant with Bossy, my sweetie withdrew from school, and I had that horrible Arctic Circle job. After that we gathered everything up and moved back to my hometown.

We weren't admitting defeat, we simply had a new plan. My sweetie had taken an electronics class and he was way more excited about it than he was about chemistry. Snow College had just started a new program for electronic technicians...but wait, this is a story about playing ball. I will tell you this other one later.

So we moved back to Ephraim just in time for softball season and even though I was about 5 months pregnant, I was feeling decidedly better. Unfortunately, the ladies on my team were not expecting me back and they had already replaced me at shortstop. I think if I hadn't been pregnant and awkward, they would have given me my old spot, but "as a protection" for me, they put me on second base.

Not that I really wanted or needed protection, my sweetie still talks about later in the season when I slid into home. I was just past seven months along. (Pretty sure I wouldn't do that now.)  In spite of the craziness, the season ended without any significant injuries and Bossy was born the first part of November.

We were still in Ephraim when softball season started up in the spring of 1985. One more season was way more than I had hoped for! Bossy was getting bigger and as the weather warmed up, my sweetie started bringing her to the ball field to watch me play. The playground was close by so sometimes he headed there and sometimes he just sat with her on a blanket.

One day my team was on the field. It was the second or third inning and I don't recall the score. Suddenly I glanced over at my sweetie. He had forgotten the blanket and my little Bossy was chewing on a mouthful of dirt and grass. Well I couldn't have that! I called an informal timeout and marched down the third baseline. My older and somewhat wiser friends were laughing at me from the in-field. Even the other team was laughing! Did all of these ladies let their sweet precious babies eat dirt?

I quickly wiped out her mouth and trotted back to my place. "Sorry!" I called rather self-righteously as I waved to the umpire. Even he was sniggering. I thought I was doing the right thing...but I guess stopping the game over a little dirt was a tad obsessive. Pretty sure I wouldn't do that now...

Play Ball!

You all know I grew up in small-town Utah. In the early 80s, our high school had less than four hundred students in a total of 4 grades. That meant lots of things...some good and some bad...but the worst part was that we weren't allowed to have a girls softball team. (They do have one now though and they are awesome!)

I'm on the back row, third from the left. The two men were our coaches.

Softball was huge in Sanpete County! Each town had at least one team in every age group and some towns had more than one. I started playing league softball when I was 8 years old. They actually started a girls' team because I wanted to go out for Little League with my brothers and there were some people in the town who just couldn't stand the idea of a girl playing with the boys. I think maybe I told you that story before...

We played softball all summer. We started in April and our last tournament was on Labor Day weekend. I loved the sport and I was good at it. I didn't love pitching, but I was the second in line when Yvonne got tired. My spot was shortstop and I had a wicked throw with a lot of heat. (Now that I'm old I don't play shortstop any more. I can barely make the throw to first.)

When I was 17, my YW leader was our first baseman. I played several years with that group and they were awesome! In 1982 we took second place in the county-wide tournament. My friends decided to have a huge party. My mom agreed to let me go because she assumed that Bonnie, my YW leader would be there. As it turned out, Bonnie had other things to do that night.

It was the first party I had ever been at with drinking and at 17, I was pretty clueless. But it didn't matter. My friends knew my standards and my parents...even if I had gotten down on my knees and begged, not a single one of them would have let me have a drop.

When I got engaged the next summer, these amazing ladies threw me a bridal shower one night after the game. When I got married and we moved away, these faces were some of the hardest ones to leave. At the time I had no idea that I would have a second chance to play ball...

What about Baseball?

Bossy said I sounded kind of whiny yesterday so I ran that by my sweetie and he admitted that he hadn't read the blog. So early this morning while I was still trying to get a little shut-eye, he opened the door and agreed that whiny about sums it up.

So sorry about that! I know you don't stop by so you can hear me complain about the crazy life I've created for myself. I'll try to be more upbeat.

I need some advice.

Love this pic of Sport!

You all know that Sport had an amazing football season! His team even won the state championship on their very first try. He just finished up playing basketball with his football friends and even though their team didn't do all that well, he learned so much and now he loves basketball too. He would go out and shoot hoops every day if the weather would cooperate.

A few years ago I swore off spring sports. Oh don't get me wrong, I LOVE softball, but by the time spring comes around I'm just looking forward to taking a break. This year I'm thinking of making an exception. (I know, just after I told you about my crazy life and now I'm thinking about taking on something else...this is what happens when you have this many kids, you start losing brain cells!)

Sport has only ever had one year of baseball and that was t-ball when he was just a little guy. I've been thinking about putting him in baseball to keep the momentum rolling. It would be nice if ONE of my kids really loved sports. When I was a kid, Little League meant you played ball pretty much every day and I'm pretty sure that is still the case. But I don't really want to sign him up in a rec league with one practice and one game each week. It would take him forever to learn to play that way.

So what has been your experience with baseball? The Gym Rat played one year of Little League and hated it but he was older and all the boys had way more experience that he did. The Dog Walker only did rec leagues. Sport is 8 years and still young enough to be teachable, but sometimes he is a little scared of the ball.

I could sure use a little input...

Crazy Days

You ever have those days when you are running from dawn to midnight? Today was one of them! I know I don’t usually do a travel log for you, but just for today I’m going to make an exception. People are always asking me, “How do you do it???” Well, the answer is, “Barely!” Mostly I’m just good at delegating and I try to plan ahead when I have a particularly crazy day like today.

So I told you that it was CountryFest in our little hamlet and two of my daughters were marching with the band in the parade that started at 9:00 this morning.  Bossy got up early and staked out our spot on the parade route. Princess and Prima Donna had to be dropped off by 8:15, so the Drama Queen took care of that and then joined Bossy and her brood to help save places for everyone.

We had everyone else up and dressed (even Scout!) by 8:30. We pulled into the parking lot at the park right before they closed the entrance, so that saved us walking time and we joined Bossy with the wagon and the stroller by about 8:40. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that Bossy knows how to do a parade! She had drinks and donuts and bags for candy. (OK, I know this is weird, but she even brings her own candy and tosses it to the kids just in case they don’t get enough…)

Crafty and Sport were both in their soccer gear since Crafty was planning to leave the parade and go to her game at 9:30. Except that she was having so much fun, we just couldn’t bear to drag her away…I hope her coach isn’t too upset. The parade ended at 10:30 and I slipped away to one vehicle while my sweetie took all the kids and headed for the other. I ran past the Home Depot and picked up our racecar kits so we could build them tomorrow at home, then I headed to the ball field for an 11:00 softball game. I played softball for an hour (we were trounced, by the way), then I headed home.

While I was driving, my sweetie called to tell me he was headed to the soccer fields with Sport for his game. I reminded him to take the treats. I then called the house and told Crafty to change out of her soccer uniform and put it on Scout since her shirt had gone missing. It’s a good thing they wear the same color. The girls had a pb&j ready for me and I snarfed it down five minutes before we headed out the door for the park. Bossy left about 10 minutes before us so she could check in the Pinewood Derby cars for the big race. Sport and Bean-Dip had each made a car and they were looking forward to watching them sail down the track.

The track is a beast!

We got there about ten minutes before the race was supposed to start, which was just enough time to reapply the sunscreen and get the kids settled. I sent the girls to the edge of the park to meet Sport as my sweetie dropped him off and then went in search of a parking place. We waited for about 20 minutes for the race to begin. Half an hour later, Sport’s car was out of the competition and Bean-Dip was still in the running for the Derby’s slowest car (he eventually won that distinction).

My sweetie kept Sport so they could walk through the car show and the rest of us headed back to the house. It was 2:10 and we just had time to get a drink of water, gather the soccer treats for Scout’s game, and she and I headed out the door. When her game was finally over (they won 3 – 6), we hustled back home so she could get ready for her dance recital. It was 3:50 and the kids had to be at the recital at 4:30. We sent her to the showers and started trying to pull together an early dinner (for 16 people!). By 4:30, most of the kids were fed and dressed and ready to leave. (Curly had fallen asleep, so he ate with Bossy's family and then rode to the school with them.)

Princess, Prima Donna, and Crafty had their recital right after the little kids, at 7:00, so they were responsible for having all of their costumes and paraphernalia in hand. Sport was also dancing in both recitals. We drove the short distance to the high school, staked out our usual spots and hunkered down for the show. We fed the kids apple slices and crackers during the intermission between shows. The second recital ended about 8:45.

Prima Donna

Princess

Sport

Scout

Crafty

We rushed from the school, got the kids home, changed from the dance clothes, grabbed blankets and jackets, and headed out the door by 9:10 to go back to the park. Teach, the Dog Walker, and Princess all had a Flash Mob performance to do after the concert. We walked a considerable distance from the parking lot to the stage area where we were able to enjoy the last half-hour of the concert, the Flash Mob, and finally the fireworks.

We got back home just before 11:00, sent all the kids to bed, and the Dog Walker and I ran off to the grocery store to get all the things I had forgotten for Fathers’ Day tomorrow. After putting all the groceries away, I finally sat down to write this blog and feed my sleepy, ornery Baby Doll. It’s after 1:00 AM and Teach will still have to download pics from her new camera. But I hope you noticed all the delegating I did all day. Without my entourage and personal assistants, I wouldn’t make it through a day like this. Thank goodness I did…barely.

Ask Me Anything (part 2)

***Thanks for the questions, Jenny! Jenny wants to know if it gets easier, things like births, potty training, nap-time, and discipline. Are we "master" parents now?***

I can link you to a couple of blogs I’ve already written on births and potty training, but that main question is simple…it gets easier. When I was first having kids I was so worried about EVERYTHING!

When Bossy was about 8 months old I was playing in a softball tournament. We had moved back to our hometown to re-enroll in college there and I was really excited to join my original team. Sometime I’ll tell you about my softball days, but suffice for now that I was a pretty decent short-shop. So there I am, in the middle of the field and I stop the game (pretty presumptuous, huh?!) and yell across the field to my sweetie that he needed to stop letting the baby eat dirt. I was still the youngest player on my team even though I was married now with a kid of my own and all those older and wiser moms just laughed at me.


That’s one of my sweetie’s favorite stories to tell. Now we encourage them to eat dirt! Not really, but I think that I have mellowed over the years so I’m just not so uptight about everything. I used to be super-paranoid about germs…now I just figure if they get a few germs it helps them build immunities. My sweetie used to tease me about washing my hands all the time when we first got married. I think that came from having a food-handler’s permit when I worked fast food. Of course I still wash my hands often and regularly, but I’m not obsessed with it.

The birthing process has also changed for me. Bossy and the Gym Rat came on their own several weeks early. The Drama Queen would have hibernated all winter except the doc said two weeks over was enough. Teach came right on time but weighed over 10 pounds! The Dog Walker was over 9 pounds. That is when the doc said from now on we would induce them all. That worked great until we got to Curly. My water just randomly broke…three weeks early! I wasn’t even sure it had or what I was supposed to do. Then Baby Doll came 4 ½ weeks early! Someday soon I will write the rest of the Birth Stories for you, but every birth is different and when you get into double digits, maybe yours will take less than 9 months too.

Potty training has been easy with some, hard with others. Curly trained himself. My sister trained Teach. The Dog Walker took a little longer than the others. I don’t get hung up on milestones anymore. I figure they will eventually come around and why should I beat my brains against the wall for something that will naturally happen when it’s supposed to anyway?

I have never been a stickler for nap times. I think that when a child is tired they will take a nap. Some of my kids have wanted one and others not so much… Teach STILL needs a nap every day! I know you asked about discipline. That’s a touchy subject with parents but this is my basic philosophy. I HATE spanking or otherwise raising a hand to the kids. That said, I do have to spank on rare occasion depending on the offense. My favorite way to discipline is work. Hard jobs works well for just about everyone. I’ll write you a whole blog on that subject next week.

The third baby is definitely the hardest and having older kids to help with the younger ones makes life much easier. As far as feeling like a "master" parent, most days I feel like I can barely keep all the balls in the air. It feels like I run from fire to fire and never get anything accomplished. But I have always thrived on stress and chaos. I like being the "master" planner, the supervisor, the advocate with the father. And I don’t mean that disrespectfully. I am often the go-between for the kids and their dad.

Does parenting get easier? Yes, at least today I think so, but today has been relatively quiet…no one had to go to the emergency room, I only gave 2 kids medicine, 1 breathing treatment, I only sent 6 texts during school hours to school-age kids, talked to two teachers, and I didn’t deal with any blood. It was a good day and I love being a mom! Oh yeah, there is one thing that doesn't get any easier...laundry!

Fresh Grass and Funerals

I love sports! I love watching them when my kids are participating, but I also have a select few that I love playing. Basketball, softball, and volleyball, not necessarily in that order have been a part of my life off and on since I was about 8 years old. 

Baseball was my first love. I had two older brothers who taught me to play. For some reason I was blessed with a killer throwing arm and I set my heart on playing shortstop on my brother’s Little League team. We grew up in small-town Utah and they didn’t have a girls softball program. When my mom took me to tryouts with the boys, it caused a huge problem. They couldn’t let little girls and little boys play together! Someone might get hurt! 

So they quickly threw together a girls’ league. Anyone from age 8 to age 18 could play on that team (provided that she happened to be a girl, of course). I made the team (everyone did) and sat most of the season. What 8-year-old (even one with a killer throwing arm) could compete with teenage girls? After a year or two they split the teams into several age levels and I finally got my chance. We played from early April until school started the end of August. It was my whole summer life! 

I played until right before I got married and then I played another year after I had my first child. I tried again a couple of years later, but by then we had moved to the Wasatch Front and the teams were much harder to join. Don’t get me wrong, you could sign up, you just couldn’t JOIN. They put me in Center Field where I immediately threw out my arm and was benched for the rest of the season. I didn’t play softball for 20 years and then my best friend asked me to join her as a backup player on a co-ed county rec league. I agreed before I realized how terrifying that prospect could be. I sat and watched the whole first game. 

During the second game they coaxed me onto the field. I still couldn’t throw, but I could catch. They put me on first base. I had never played that position before, but it seemed to work for me. I wasn’t afraid of the ball and some of those men would just burn it in. But like all other fairy tales, that one ended with the season and the team disbanded.

A couple of years later I was asked by my church to be the Women’s Sports Specialist. That meant I had to recruit people to play in our softball league. We had a great time, but I didn’t realize how much it meant to me until my mother passed away. I was in small-town Utah again, arguing with my brothers and sisters about the color of her casket when my dad totally broke down. We left the funeral home under a cloud of despair and gloom. 

My sister’s husband, sensing the breakdown, drove 90 miles an hour to get us back to the good old Wasatch Front. We arrived just in time for the 3^rd inning. Some of the women were insisting that it was time to go, but when I came running across the grass they agreed to one more inning. It was so therapeutic, just being there with my friends, smelling the dirt, and having the opportunity to pound that ball into the outfield. The frustrations and sorrows of the day just melted away and I knew I could face the upcoming funeral and my family. Sometimes life throws us a curve, and sometimes it’s a fastball, but the most important part is just staying in the game.