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!

This Rooster

It is Chinese New Year so I looked up my zodiac sign for some insight into 2012. I was born in the year of the Rooster and found out that the forecast is great and the future is bright!  As far as instructions go, those contained in my outlook are clear to me so while not someone who traditionally reads my horoscope, I cannot imagine that perhaps allowing this to influence my actions can hurt at all.  Rather, if this direction only serves to help me be more aware of my communication and those around me, I would consider this a successful year.

“The main thing for Rooster is a goal and an idea which he should strive to achieve, otherwise his activities would lose their meaning, and he risks just staying in a place in his development. In addition to absolute leadership inclinations, great ambitions in the year 2012 of the Black Water Dragon will require from him the ability to communicate, work in teams, actively and quickly respond to problems and be more attentive to close ones.” [i]

I get excited when I read this.  No promises are made, no guarantees of amazing good fortune, nothing more than good wholesome personal responsibility.  If I want more I must strive, work hard, and expect that not everything will always go exactly as planned.  This is known as personal development and I need it as much, if not more than the next Rooster.  This may not preclude me from whining or feeling a bit sorry for myself from time to time, however I now confer on every reader the right to tell me to snap out of it when I do.

I agree my communication could use some work.  No surprise to anyone that knows me that I am considered a “Controller” according to a recent personality type assessment.  I have always had a tendency to be a wee bit bossy, as well as a master of understatement apparently!  This heavily influences my communication style; I interrupt, I think I know the answer before the question has been asked, and I sometimes give directions without asking others’ opinions (especially if you live with me and are under the age of fourteen).

Sometimes, these communication flaws mitigate my ability to work well on teams, although I genuinely love team work.  The camaraderie, the insights into self and others, and the results are more rewarding than being successful alone, which is rarely possible in my experience anyway.  I need to listen more and talk less and I will be a better team player.

I believe I am good at responding to problems, creatively and tactically.  I can usually tell the difference between a problem that needs more information before action should ensue and when immediate action needs to be taken.  The only exception concerns my boys.  On those thankfully rare occasions when they are hurt, truly hurt and in unbearable pain I cannot function normally and other people have to give me short easy instructions to follow. 

This leads nicely to the final piece of my 2012 outlook; to be more attentive to close ones.  I have realized recently that being busy, getting everyone where they need, and providing is not the same as being attentive.  I want to really listen to our boys and to my husband and my friends with a willingness to learn.  I’m going to dig deep this year and even though the rooster is not known for flying very far, I hope to soar.

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[i] http://www.gotohoroscope.com/2012/chinese-2012-horoscope-rooster.html

Spinning Plates

My partner in crime used an analogy this week to which I could instantly relate.  He spoke of plates spinning on sticks, and trying to balance them all.  My plates are the fellas, supporting the love of my life as he builds a business of his own, being a good Mum and Stepmum, writing, my career, and working out.  The plates are all ones I want to balance and sometimes that act is filled with empowering adrenalin and at other times with stress, guilt and feelings of failure.  

Sometimes the plates seem to grow from saucers to dinner platters and spin out of control and at others they whirl in synch making a harmonious humming sound that is pleasing to the ear.  This week has been a typical week in our lives, filled with fun and activity and people needing to be in different places at different times.  It has been a week of balancing spinning plates and trying not to let any fall.  On Monday we let everyone settle back into their routine having returned to school for a couple of days the previous week.  The plates are spinning at a medium pace and nothing looks like it is ready to topple.  

On Tuesday we did a little divide and conquer with one parent heading with one boy to soccer sign up and one with the other three fellas to shop for jeans.  I learned that the only acceptable jean color for one is black, the only acceptable style for another is skinny, and that the other is very easy to work with and therefore he was the only one that found acceptable jeans that evening!  The plates are spinning but wobbling a little bit too because one boy has two pairs of jeans to make it through the entire week; this means more laundry, another plate on another stick.  

On Wednesday our teenager called to say that his finger had been jammed in his locker.  My immediate reaction was that this was a big plate on a very thin stick ready to launch into mid-air.  Thankfully, he seemed to be calling more because the school had asked him to than because he was in dire distress.  I spoke to the school nurse who suggested I might want to come and take a look at the fingernail just in case.  I headed out the door with another boy in tow, performed a school drop off and headed to the other school.  The fingernail was not a pretty sight but fortunately not swollen.  We agreed he would tough it out and I returned to the car to head to work.  I arrived thirty minutes after my intended arrival time.  No plates had fallen although a couple had started to slip.  After school we headed out for haircuts something we had planned for that week so we were healthily on track.  The plates slowed down a little as I sat peacefully waiting for handsome shorn boys to reappear and I started to consider what I might write about this week.  My theory is that if I write at least once a week I will develop a habit I can grow, otherwise, the plate that falls and shatters is my writing plate.  Thinking about it in retrospect, Wednesday was a good plate day because we even made a trip to the gym in the evening.  

On Thursday I worked from home for half the day and took the other half off because we had a couple of appointments.  One was to send off passport applications which is quite an undertaking between American and British birth certificates and a Green card.  The plates are spinning at a fast pace prior to arrival at the Post Office, breakneck speed when I see the length of the line, and then slower when we realize that there is no-one in the line for passport applications.  The Post Office is a plate all of its own and I do not think that requires any explanation.  We make it in and out in 35 minutes which I consider to be a tremendous success.

On Friday I felt like I erased several tasks from my list at work which made that plate spin in a perfectly balanced fashion.  I really like it when that happens.  I came home at a reasonable time and all the fellas were interested in skating so we took four happy campers, plus friends, fed them all and let them tire at the skating rink.  The somewhat lame adults stationed themselves in a booth with their laptops and worked on designs and websites.  Although we sat hip to hip, we couldn’t hear each other over the loud music but worked away harmoniously side by side.  We had made it through another week without shattering any plates!  A fruitful week at work, happy fellas, working alongside my partner, and jotting down an idea that matured into this -  that is the ultimate plate balancing act!