Things My Parents Were Right About

One:  Tea is the Answer for Everything

In England whether you are celebrating or commiserating, getting promoted or fired, whether you are at home or at work, a cup of tea is never far away.  When your best friend’s boyfriend leaves her, the expected solace is “Let’s put the kettle on and have a cup of tea.”  When you give birth the nurses hand you a baby and a cup of tea.  There is no bad time for a cup of tea and if you find yourself in a situation where you do not know what to do, offer to make a cup of tea.

Two:  Let the Boys Come to You (this one from my Mum when I was a teenager but it is true at any age)

At the time in our teenage lives that you needed to have a boyfriend to belong and I did not, my Mum reassured me and distracted me until I measured myself less by the company I kept and more by the company I could be.  She was always there with a real compliment, a firm belief that I was attractive to the opposite gender, and of course a cup of tea.     

  

Three:  The Tide Turns Under the Ocean

Whenever I was down in the dumps and not sure what to do next, my Dad would reassure me that the tide changes under the ocean where it is not visible to the human eye.  It was his way of saying that our luck has changed long before we know it.  It always seemed that soon after he reminded me of this, things started to change for the better; that ounce of hope was all that I needed.

Four:  Be True to Yourself. 

When I was about twenty I headed to RAF Cranwell for a battery of tests to determine if I would be invited to join the Royal Air Office as an officer.  The examinations went well and I proceeded to the interviews.  I was given scenarios that I had to work through verbally and was asked what I would do in my role as an officer if I discovered that the fellow female officer I was sharing a room with was a lesbian.  At that tender age I genuinely did not understand the question.  It must have been very clear from my face that I did not understand and they rephrased the question to, “What would your duty be as an officer if you found out your fellow officer was breaking the rules by being a lesbian?”  I was confused but dug into my values and answered honestly that I did not believe that someone’s sexuality determined their ability to perform their job.  They sent me home shortly after that and I felt torn by their decision.  I called my Mum and Dad from a payphone and said I had let them down and I was on my way home.  My Mum asked me what happened and after I told her she said, “Nic, we will always support your dreams but you’re just like your Dad – ready to stand up for what you believe in and not made to take orders.  We are proud of you.  Come home…we’ll have the kettle on.”

Best of Friends

I don’t know what we are going to do with our middle two fellas.  Don’t get me wrong, it is not that they cannot get along.  We have quite the opposite problem; they get along so well that there are not enough hours in the day for them to say everything they need to say to each other!  Their bond is wonderful and definitely better than hearing voices raised in sibling rivalry.  Their ongoing discourse has become particularly noticeable at bedtime when the rest of the house is settling down.  One of our beliefs, that we like to think is important, is the benefit of a good night’s sleep.  This sounds reasonable and our youngest and oldest have a similar Pavlovian response to their pillows in that as soon as their heads hit them they are asleep.  

The other two share a room by desire and what ensues at bedtime is nothing short of comical or ridiculous, we are not sure which.  Their ritual reminds me of my dog Jack.  He used to step into his doggy bed, circle it three times clockwise, slump the full weight of his body down into the cushions and then let out a very audible sigh that seemed to say, “What a stressful day I’ve had.  I had better get some rest.”  With that his head would flop on his paws and his heavy lids would give in to the sleep of the righteous.   It takes the middle two at least twelve to fifteen minutes, while talking non-stop, to ceremoniously peel off five articles of clothing, and that is counting each sock as a separate item.  These articles are then left wherever they are standing at the time so unless they are actually standing in or on the dirty laundry hamper, and weirder things have happened, this twelve to fifteen minutes does not include their dirty clothes making it to a logical landing place.  

Then the ritual of readying their beds begins while they discuss some other topic that intrigues them.  Both like lots of pillows and fewer covers so what happens next is the plumping of about five pillows each followed by the careful placement of these pillows around the tops of their beds, looking something like a trench wall made of sand bags, and is concluded by pulling a single cover over them.  This takes about five minutes and if Dad and I do not show up within the next two minutes one or the other typically leaps out of bed to come and remind us that we have not tucked them in yet.  Routinely we remind them that we cannot tuck them in if they are not actually in their beds but the mild sarcasm is usually dismissed and then we move onto the fake reason that we have to be out of our beds.  This can range from the need to brush teeth, which should have happened about twenty-five minutes earlier, to moving a poster from one spot to another because it might fall down and frighten someone in the middle of the night.  Now that we are out of bed we have to go through the pillow bashing session again just like Jack circling his basket.

Then the covers are pulled up and we finally get to deliver goodnight hugs.  We are reminded every night that they like the hallway light left on and we remind them every night that it can stay on if they settle down and go to sleep.  This rarely happens and usually they have started to chat in stage whispers before we are up the half flight of stairs that separates us from them.   Within ten minutes there are often snorts and guffaws or if they are seriously discussing something, the constant chatter of their voices.  At this point we turn off the hallway light as a warning and that serves its purpose for about a nanosecond before they resume their conversation.  From our observations it seems that one or the other tires and the other keeps on talking for a couple of minutes before realizing that their audience has fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion.  When they do realize they give that big sigh that Jack used to give and their head finally sinks into the mass of pillows and their eyelids drop.  All chatted out they can finally have a good night’s sleep…goodnight!

Life Lessons in Hockey

We spent most of this weekend at a hockey tournament with the fearless Panthers.  There are so many life lessons in sports, hockey included, that it brings out the preacher in me.  I observe such moments of greatness that I want to keep lecturing the boys and applying all I see to their lives and their development.  E very one of our boys excelled this weekend, those that played and those that cheered.  

On the first day of the tournament the 10 and under teams played for six whole hours.  Life Lesson Number One started before the team even stepped inline boot in the arena. The team had only one sub and in an effort to give them each a bit of a break a second sub was rounded up; the feisty brother of a player.  Luckily his gear was in the family vehicle so they suited him up and added him to the roster.  This brand new member of the team is six years old but sees no limits and age and size is no barrier.  He held his own and gave the players a few extra minutes of recovery here and there and made all the difference.  Life Lesson Number One:  Never accept limitations imposed by society, others or self.

The team was losing their second game and heads were starting to sink and shoulders cave.  As they headed into the second half down four goals to the team that would ultimately win the championship, something shifted.  Suddenly the team, who had been playing well all along, was playing like they wanted to win.  They gave the champs a run for their money and left the rink with their heads held high and in a bracket to play for third or fourth place.  Life Lesson Number Two:  While you may feel like you’re losing, you’re actually on your way to winning.

When the team emerged for their next game they seemed double their previous size.  They knew they had faced a great team and had so far held them off more successfully than any of the other  teams.  They also had a new strategy that helped them to play to their strengths.  Three of the players are very capable of passing and scoring and that became their only job, one of the players is a great defender and complemented the goalie beautifully so he stayed back.  One of the players has not played in a tournament before and is fairly new to hockey, but he is very intimidating on skates.  His mission was to get in the other team’s way and stare them down.  It worked like a charm and six goals later the Panthers had their first win.  Life Lesson Number Three:  There is a time to branch out and a time to stick to what you know; choose each wisely.

In their fourth and final game the team was exhausted, as were their opponents and our team’s defender was injured.  We fed him bananas to help with his cramps and waited and hoped.  Without him we had one miniature, albeit undeterred sub and a very tired team.   Number 3 looked up from his haze and said, “I can do this” and off they went looking stronger than they felt but knowing there was a medal on the line.  They played with character and resolve and won the bronze.  Life Lesson Number Four:  When you think you have nothing left, dig deeper.

While all of this was going on we had greatness off the rink too.  Our hockey player’s older brother had begged before the tournament to be allowed to be in the box for his brother’s games and assist in “coaching” the team.   The coach let him and he was positive, respectful and encouraging to the team, an assistant coach of which to be proud.  Our other two do not play but they came and cheered on the Panthers and did not complain even once about being bored, tired or hungry, and truly they would have had every right to be a little testy during the course of six hours.  They were fabulously patient, cheered on the Panthers and even though they ultimately had to wait until 10:30pm for dinner, they never uttered the words that they hoped the team lost so that we could leave and go and eat!  Life Lesson Number Five:  We have a great family!

PS – By the end of the weekend we had bronze medalists and silver medalists.  The silver medalists won all their games except the last one for the championship, which they narrowly ceded in overtime; couldn’t be prouder!!

Wine and Cheese

This week we decided to investigate our more cultured sides and went to a wine and cheese tasting.  There were four of us, three of which can usually be found sweaty and in bike shorts when together, and the fourth our trusted coach, supplier of Pringles and cold beer after a long hot ride, huddled together around a pile of crackers and some fairly good cheese.  For the record, this event was not going to be about the cheese.  

Going to a wine and cheese tasting is not a side of ourselves that we typically air in public for three reasons.  The first reason is that we live in Colorado and the usual style of our days and our lives is casual and grounded.  This is a nice way of saying we are too lazy to dress up unless strictly necessary and going to a wine and cheese tasting somehow sounds like we might need to wear makeup and something fancy.  In fairness, since both women were wearing boots, rather than sneakers or flip-flops, with our jeans or leggings we did consider that we had made an effort.   The second reason is that we are more likely to indulge in burritos and beer in large quantities rather than dainty plates of cheese and crackers.  When we eat out together it is often post-ride or post-run and therefore the body demands more than the portion we were brought which might have fed one of us at a normal sitting as an appetizer.  The amount of food on our table necessitated that we share nicely.  The third reason is that one of our party, whom I shall decline to name, is apparently unable to pronounce the names of any wine and if he were not such a wonderful person and I didn’t adore him would be a great embarrassment to the rest of the party who was fitting in rather nicely thank you Brad...whoops!

What we collectively know about wine is about as much as you could write on the label of the wine bottle in thick felt pen.  This did not daunt us and what we found was that this is the very reason you enter into the wine tasting agreement, especially in good company at the end of a long week.  We were to choose six tastings and then select one for our full and final glass.  This gave us the opportunity to taste losing face; if you did not like it there was no shame.  I stuck to reds and made a diabolical face at the first sip of a blackberry wine.  I wanted to try it but it confirmed my previous experiences that an abundance of fruit in wine tastes like cough medicine to my very un-discerning palette.  My favorite was the Tempranillo, which was very uncouthly called “tempura” but that other member of the party I told you about.  We tried to explain that tempura is a Japanese dish but the lovely lady serving us was egging him on.  

We laughingly experimented with a vocabulary that has a lot of adjectives with meanings other than their common day parlance.  Someone said “tannins” a few times before I asked what they were and no-one could really answer and then we settled into our more usual banter about our weeks, our boys, and our goals.  It is so easy to be with good friends, who also happen to be good people, that even though we probably learned nothing more about wine, we knew what we liked and that was more than enough.  I raise my glass to being in the company of best friends…cheers!