Yep, it’s time for you to go back

The other day, I was playing a friendly little game of HORSE with T-Dog.

Many of you may not know this, but I enjoy shooting hoops.  I never played on a team and would probably really suck in an actual competitive situation, but I used to spend hours of time as a kid just shooting around on my own.  My parents live on top of a steep hill, with the basketball hoops right at the crest of the hill.  If I missed a shot poorly, the ball could get away from me in a hurry and be houses away before I could blink.  After a few treks down the hill, I learned to aim better and save myself from running the hill!

Our little game was going fairly well.  After each of us earning an H, we matched each other shot for shot for a number of rounds.  They T-Dog got a few on me.

He made a beautiful outside shot.  I missed

“O,”  he yelled.

Immediately after, she swished a shot from the other side.  I missed again!

“U!”  he screamed.

I burst out laughing.

“What?”  he asked.

“U?  Um, I think it’s time for you to go back to school!”

(For all those interested.  After fixing my awarded ‘U’ to it’s proper ‘R’, I held firm at my H-O-R status.  After sticking him on two inside shots, the little man earned his O and R.  Then I sank two outside 45 degreers that he missed, getting him a S and a final E.  Suck it T-Dog.  This is Mama’s court!)

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Technology to the rescue

The Infamous Peter is very good at remembering holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, special occasions.  What he is not good at is planning for them ahead of time.

IP owns and runs his own business of which he is the sole employee.  When all the work begins and ends with you, you are on the clock 24-7, ever minute of nearly everyday is spent attached to a client or a project.  I know, I know, it’s going to be hard for you to believe, but I have been known to pout at times due to the lack of attention I receive compared to his keyboard, but I couldn’t be more proud or supportive of my successful hubby.

He’s never lacking in love, caring, and thoughtfulness….what he’s missing is time.

During his 90+ hour work week, IP regularly forgets to eat, so planning ahead to shop for a special occasion never makes it into the iCalendar.  Now, remember I said that he never misses an occasion, so he’s usually ‘that guy’ rummaging through the picked over shelves the day of a holiday, grumbling over not finding what he is looking for, settling for something he is less than thrilled with, all the while trying to come up with a convincing story as to why check-out lane candy and a set of bath towels is the epitome of an excellent present.  (No really, that was a mother’s day gift one year.  He sold me on the idea it was a ‘spa package’ present.)

On Valentine’s Day last year, he tried to do something different.  He dropped into a business the morning of V-Day to order an edible arrangement.  Surprise, surprise, he was too late to get an order in for that day.  Hello rock, meet hard place.  He put the order in anyway, for a delayed sweet treat (good man), and then went the tradition route.  In between meetings, he ran to a floral shop and picked up a quick bouquet, dropping it off himself on the way to a shoot.  Valentine’s Day saved.

~Sidebar~  Men, please be careful when choosing your floral arrangements.  A co-worker received these at work today.  I wonder what he REALLY wants for Valentine’s day…..

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Anyhoo…..

This year, technology and the modern world collided to create a fantastic Valentine’s Day for me and score major bonus points for IP.

When IP’s alarm goes off in the morning, he turns on Mike and Mike in the morning, transitioning from peaceful slumber to crazy work day with the soothing sounds of a little sports talk in the AM.  Apparently, on Monday morning, Mike and Mike set out to rescue their viewers from a potential Valentine’s Day dog house by offering an on-air special.  By ordering through a specific website and using a designated promo code, a husband could get free, expedited, guaranteed by Valentine’s Day delivery on an order.  IP, being the smart man that he is, jumped on that offer and let Valentine’s Day come to him this year…and saved money in the process.

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IP wins major props today.  If anyone needs me, I will be in a chocolate strawberry wine coma.  I will see you all tomorrow….maybe.

 

Live while we’re young

As I’ve mentioned before, every month I go on a Girls Night Out with an incredible group of girls.  We all met over 20 years ago (that just made me feel old) back in our high school days.  Depending on the season or whatever mood strikes us, we try different and fun things on our evenings on the town.  Last night, Tina did the picking and we attempted to relive our youth by going ice skating.

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I like ice skating, of course, I would though.  I used to LOVE roller skating back in the day.  I would show up at Skateland, a local middle school hang out, before the doors opened, skates in hand, anxious to try to be the first one on the rink.  In those days, I used to try to stay on the rink all night, no breaks, never missing a song.  The real challenge came when it was time for the couples skate.  I was not much of a dater back then, so I never to go-to guy to guarantee myself a partner.  In the sixth grade, I accepted an ill-fated roll around the rink from Doug Hagemen and ended up with a broken wrist.  It wasn’t his fault someone fell behind me while I was backwards skating, but I never missed a chance to rub it in all through high school.  Anywho, ice skaing, to me, is just roller skating with your coat on, so I was all for it.

When we arrived at the rink, I felt like I was both reliving my youth….and ancient at the same time.  One this crisp January night, the rink was packed with 12 to 15 year olds, each trying to look cooler than the next.  The only other adults at the rink consisted of  a few random parents who, by the looks on their faces, had drawn the short straw and been forced stayed to supervise their children.  Most of the kids stood huddled in the center of the rink, attempting to make a dance floor on the ice, while staying upright on their skates.  The man who looked like he was having the least fun of the evening, was the police officer assigned to rink duty that night.  I don’t know if they covered “shooing a skate-less teenager off the ice rink” in the academy, but he was really good at it and called in repeatedly to perform this task.

Now me, I am not one of these “sit on the sidelines of life” type of people.  I’m only here once, so I’m going to go out and have a good time of it.  I don’t care if I embarrass myself or anyone else in the process.  I don’t know these people, and if I did, so what?  Plus, I work with owly, grumpy teenagers, I’m not scared off by their scowls.

So I did what I all those other parents should have, I jumped on that ice and OWNED it.  I skated.  I danced to the music.  I sang and made a fool of myself.

Gangnam Style anyone?

Who doesn’t want to live like we’re young?

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Just one of the boys

 

My husband is a very lucky man.  Most men have to beg their wives to be able to give up days watching sports and barter to get ESPN turned on, but not my husband.  I love sports, all sports.  I willing watch ESPN, on my own, with no one forcing my.  Name a sport, I’ll probably watch it.  Baseball, yes.  Basketball, yes.  Hockey, yes.  Golf, yes.  Car racing, well, no.  Hey even I have a line.  Football, duh..of course!

Reason number two he’s so lucky, about a year and a half ago, we decided to remodel our basement.  Behold….The Kerry Cave.

No, this is not a man cave, this is a Kerry Cave, because this was my creation, my dream football watching experience.

Football, oh glorious football.  Oh how I love thee.  If it is fall and it’s a Saturday or Sunday, I will be holed up in my Kerry Cave watching the Nebraska Cornhuskers (GOOO BIIIIIG REEEED!) or my Green Bay Packers (GO PACK GO!) and any and every other game I can find.  If there’s a game on, I’m watch it.

Last season, when my beloved Nebraska Cornhuskers moved to the Big 10, I ordered digital cable the week before the season started, since a number of the games were going to air on the Big 10 network, which wasn’t offered on standard cable.  I then ordered the sports package add-on, so I could get the NFL Network and purchased the Red Zone too.  (In for a penny, in for a pound.)

 

Due to my addition to football (admitting it is the first step), I inherited my husband’s fantasy football team.  He joined a league with a bunch of his college and work buddies close to fifteen years ago and was thrilled to be relieved of it.  He enjoys football, but the hassle of maintaining the league just wasn’t his thing.  He frequently skipped the draft and ended up with a crappy, computer picked team.  Then he would forget to set his roster and, without fail, play guys who were injured or on bye weeks.  I think he did a happy dance when he handed over the reins.

On draft night was last Saturday and I realized something, it’s a really a dirty minded little boy’s league, complete with raunchy names and all.

The name of the league is SOFA KING.  Get it???  Some of the team names are Tongue Bathing Katy Perry and Balls Deep.  Wanting to fit in, I renamed my team.  So what do you think???

Go Pink Taco Go!  Has a nice umm, well, interesting ring to it!

 

Free….not always a good thing

My husband and I play on a c0-rec softball league.  I know, with the olympics going on, you are probably envisioning me as this stellar, super-human athlete.  Well, I hate to burst your daydream, but nothing could be further from the truth.

I like getting out, playing, and being on a team with friends.  It’s fun to have my own activity to go to instead of always being the shuttle driver, but I worry that I’m more of a road block to my team than a help.  I’ve had a few hits at bat and scored once, but glory on the diamond has not been mine.  Every time the ball is hit when I’m in the outfield, I’m quietly chanting…”not towards me, not towards me.”

On a completely different note, I love free things.  I will admit that I have stopped my car to pick up an unwanted item that was discarded on the side of the road.  Hey, it was a free little tykes toy chest.  You would have stopped too.

Back to softball…

After a recent game, on our way out of the ball fields, my son stops and picks up something off of the ground.  He hoists it in the air and proudly exclaims, “HEY, FREE CHAPSTICK!”

Even I know there is a limit to when free is a good thing!

Slip Sliding Away

Aaahhh summertime.  The endless days of fun and play.  Bike rides, swing sets, camping, baseball, swimming, you name it.  All those fun outside activities you daydream about during the school year.

But as the heat wave continues, the day dreams fade and I’m racking my brain to think of things to do indoors, away from the 100+ weather.  Naps anyone?  My kids, on the other hand, were thinking….water, plastic and momentum.

Yesterday they broke out the old superman slip and slide.  I was never a fan.  I’m a neat freak and scared of getting hurt.  These two knuckleheads aren’t phased at all about running full speed towards a deathly slippery device and throwing themselves on it while collecting bruises, grass, and mud in various places.  While I’m not going to participate in the drippy mess, I’m more than happy to document it.

This is what pure joy looks like….

He’s Tebowing

Superstar!

When I watch them experience this and see these faces, it makes me both happy and sad.  I’m so happy that I have been able to give my children this innocence, this happy childhood, these lifetime memories.  It makes me a little sad, because I know there are children out there not being provided this same start in life.  It makes we want to hug them a little more, a little harder….and then spray them with a hose!

Ummmm, yeah

Sometimes I have to just shake my head.

My kiddos had their finals last night for our neighborhood swimming pool‘s swim team.  As I’ve mentioned before, when the kids swim, they all write and draw over themselves as motivation.  My son, apparently, decided that this was motivational.

I thought it was something like angry racing stripes.  He says it’s a unibrow.  Don’t ask.  I don’t know why either.

Here’s the next conversation that ensued.

Me – “I hope it’s wasn’t a permanent marker.”

Trystan – “No mom.  It was a Sharpie!”

Me – (Blank stare…..)

The upside to unibrow is….. IT WORKED!!

The Westridge Waterstorm won their Finals!  Congrats to all the kids, coaches, and team organizers!