Tippy Toes and Tantrums

Scheduled Unscheduled Time

The before photo, in the cotton candy's better days.

I forgot that today was supposed to be the first day of the rest of my life. My "yippee! the kids are both in school" day had been delayed a few weeks because of myriad meetings and other merda filling up my free time. I kept looking toward today as my first free morning, but then I forgot until this morning when after leaving the gym I paused and panicked when I realized I did not have a plan for what to do next. Instead of feeling liberated, I hyperventilated.

That was until I came home to see that my pajamas had been knocked to our closet floor and our dog had made a nest out of them, meaning I needed to do laundry. Once I got to the bottom of the closet, I decided to clean up the bags, totes and purses. My messenger bag had the remnants of our early September sojourn to see the Giants: on the positive side were two crisp $20 bills, but the negative side was the remainder of Clover's cotton candy, which looked small and fossilized. Thankfully it was in a plastic bag because it turned to powdery clumps when touched.

This month I've learned that there is always something to fill the time. A call that needs to be made or an email returned. Maybe I need to realize that taking a whole morning off is not for me. I'm not someone who can sit still unless I feel like I've accomplished a good deal already that day, which I know is not very healthy. Two years back, I talked to a friend about a silent, meditative retreat and said I'd like to try it. He quickly had one of those "BAHHH! HAAAAHAAA!" blurting laughs and said I wouldn't make it an hour. Sadly, I think he's right. Maybe I need to accept that the constant motion is how I operate and learn to relax within that because fighting it only makes it worse.

I've tried to work a few me moments into my day since the school year began. I started downloading a zencast (the Buddhists can't just say podcast, it has to be fancy and zen) done by a local meditation center where I've gone a few times and I find that a good way to wind down at night. The second thing was my summer goal that never got off the ground, which was to work on improving my embroidery skills. Some improvement is better than none, in embroidery and life. I hope. Finding $40 helps too.

Welcome to the Ultra Competitive World of...U8 Girls Soccer?

My how a season can change things. Though still six, my daughter's birth date put her into the next higher age division - some eight year olds and under - for soccer, which I expected to be more polished than the six and under division where girls occasionally forgot the no hands rule and they always followed the ball in one giant kicking clump. More like "real soccer," is how my daughter defined the U8 play. Real soccer indeed. Many of the girls may not even be four feet tall, but they play at a level rivaling my old high school team, complete with take away slides, shoulder bumps and attempts at tricky footwork. The skill growth is impressive, but more surprising is the cut throat competitiveness accompanying it.

In the lower division, parents cheered for both teams, shouting encouragement at the kids, regardless of jersey color. I assumed the same approach was somewhat used with the older girls too, but at the first game when I clapped for impressive moves by the opposing team, I could see the other parents look at me askance as though a traitor was among them. They needn't worry because soon the play became so aggressive, I didn't want to encourage the other team at all. One of the opposing girls started stiff arming those in her way, pushing other girls down, even trampling over my daughter, knocking her out of the game for awhile. Suddenly Pop Warner football looked like a safer alternative. At least those kids wear pads.

Despite the ratcheted-up intensity, penalty cards aren't used in this division, which is a mistake because instead of having rational penalties metered out, more angry screaming comes from the sidelines. When the aggressive girl was forearming, shoving and eventually hitting my daughter and her teammates, the refs would stop the game to correct the girl. After she was still fighting despite five or six corrections, things exploded, including one mom who came charging onto the field toward our coach (in an unforeseen twist, it ends up she was the mom of the ref). There was a momentary feeling of "ooooh nooo, this is going to be one of those parent brawls that end up on youtube. I need to get out of here." Luckily the moment was defused and the game was soon over, but it changed our team forever. Our girls won without playing dirty, but by the next game, they instinctively took the game to a much more physical level. There was no way I was going to clap for the opponents, who at any time could knock one of our girls out of the game.

Much of the innocence has been lost by moving up an age division, but it doesn't seem to bother the girls at all. The game is a lot more interesting to watch on an early Saturday morning when the girls play positions and have some semblance of ball control. It does have me wondering, however, if this is how U8 plays, what does U10 look like? As long as no one mimics Brandi Chastain's sports bra slide, we should be fine.

It's Been a Long September

Hippie school graffiti

This month is never ending. It's been pretty hellish - or as I explained to my doctor, "I can't handle the transition month!" - going from summer's relaxed schedule to the regimented school schedule with extra curriculars and all of the meetings that seem to accompany a new school year. Tomorrow is my last crammed-full day for a few weeks and then I'll spend Wednesday updating my October calendar while being thankful September is coming to an end.

Someone had the nerve to remind me this morning that we are 90 days away from Christmas. I love Christmas as much as the next guy, but really? I don't need this, especially because Clover is telling everyone that she's getting a laptop for Christmas. As she excitedly explained it to me, she can't get on the computer without bothering me, therefore the clear solution is for her to get her own computer. She sees Santa as a Make a Wish ambassador, so he'll make sure she gets the computer. I've got 90 days to redirect her or Christmas morning may be full of tears around here.

We had a ladies day out yesterday, going into San Francisco to see Wicked and have an early dinner. Despite not being a fan of musicals, it was fun to take Clover along. Even more educational was the Folsom Street Fair going on nearby. There's nothing that says "Welcome to San Francisco" more than mostly naked guys in leather straps. Clover rolled with it, as if it's something one sees every day, but the older generation - my mom and aunt - were constantly surprised. "Oh!" they'd say after each group of men would pass wearing almost identical S&M uniforms. One gasp was followed with "Don't turn around," which is an invitation to turn around immediately, only to see a man's bare ass. I think my mom grew up a little that day too.

After dinner we stopped for a few minutes at the playground across from City Hall. When I worked there in college, everyone bolted to their car or bus when it started to get dark and we'd always take the elevator down one floor to the garage because the stairwell was the most dangerous place of all. This doesn't seem the ideal spot for a playground, but it's better than the open grass where people would camp out. Plus, Clover had fun, despite our pulling her along as the evening grew darker. I had trouble imagining that this is the park where Montana Newsom will hang out, but then, things change because when I was in college, I never would have thought I'd willingly bring my child here to play during dusk either.

We Were All Over Family Game Night Like Flies on...

Oh my god, is this what I think it is? That was my first thought as I picked up my first card. My second thought was are the Garbage Pail Kids back? I decided to roll with it, which was the thing to do because we ended up having a lot of fun.

A package from Hasbro arrived Tuesday, the day before National Family Game Night, sending my kids into orbit. They were thrilled. Christmas had come early. We received Bop It!, Monopoly City and Boggle, games I'd shown interest in while at a cocktail reception at BlogHer in Chicago, which illustrates what a single Midori Sour does to my head. My kids pulled the games out of the box with great enthusiasm, while I grabbed the Advil because each of these games makes a ton of noise. Even Monopoly City requires batteries (according to Kevin, I haven't looked into it).

National Family Game Night happened to be on Weekly Family Soccer Night, limiting our time. We sat down to dinner as soon as we returned home from soccer. After a few minutes of eating, Rocket pushed his plate aside and asked to go to bed. "BUT! You're going to miss," Clover shouted until I hushed her. She couldn't hold back. "DON'T YOU WANT TO PLAY GAMES?!" I found out her biggest worry wasn't that her brother would miss out on some fun, but that he was the element that made us a family and if the family was gone, so was the game night. Once I reassured her we'd still play, she didn't think about Rocket again.

Because Rocket was sleeping, I opted for a quieter card game, pulling out Pictureka! that I'd received at BlogHer. We'd never played before, so it took a few minutes to figure out the point of the game, but once we got going, we had great fun. Even though young kids can play, it wasn't a boring kids game. We played three rounds - the final round was pretty heated as Kevin was fighting off a shut out. He came back to win the final game, ending the night with a win for everyone, literally and figuratively. Clover made us promise to play again tonight, possibly even Bop It! I'm going to be out tonight, so I agreed with her that yes, tonight is a great time for Bop It!

Disclaimer: The games were given to me for free from Hasbro. And Clover thanks them for it!

Product Review: Eating Right Kids

When the lunch bag full of food and a drink arrived for my kids to test, they were jumping up and down, as though someone had delivered a chocolate cake to our door. Rocket eats like a linebacker, so his enthusiasm wasn't a surprise, but picky Clover's interest caught me off guard. Maybe it was the lunch bag holding the food? Either way, both kids were game, and before their interest waned, I got cooking...or microwaving, as that was the only cooking required.

I'd seen the Eating Right label at Safeway before, but we hadn't tried it out because I don't buy much processed food. (Is ice cream considered a processed food? If so, we buy more than our share of processed food, just not processed food for a meal. Except for the nights where ice cream is a meal.) Eating Right now has a kids line too, which features Looney Tunes characters, and the food we were sent to review came from the Eating Right Kids line, all available at Safeway.

Here's how it looked:

Here's how it was met:

Beef and macaroni - Both kids hated it and wouldn't touch it after one bite each. The smell was not appetizing either. Clover felt conned because she thinks that the use of macaroni always assumes cheese will be there too.

Mixed fruit cups - The kids handled it like they would any other fruit cup: Clover ignored it and Rocket ate both of their servings.

Mixed fruit chewy bar - I thought it was a regular granola bar with chocolate, but Clover pointed out that it tasted like berries. Both kids scarfed it down and gave it a thumbs up.

100% apple juice - Both kids drank it and enjoyed it even though I diluted it, but I think they assume that is how all juice tastes because the straight stuff only comes out on special occasions.

Over all the lunch had hits and misses. These are not things I'd ever pack in their lunch; thankfully my kids ask for PB&J every day (and there are no allergy limitations at their schools). During the winter, we'll pack some warm food like leftovers, but in a thermos and not anything pre-processed.

While this had nothing to do with the food, I hate waste in the form of packaging. My kids are sent to school with reusable containers, no plastic bags or anything that would be tossed after each meal. I assumed everyone else did this too until I was snapped out of being naive when talking to a friend the other day who recounted seeing a trash can full of plastic sandwich bags after lunch at her child's school. Not only is it better for the environment, it's cheaper go reusable and it's not much harder. Every container we use goes through the dishwasher and is ready for the next day. This is all to say that throwing away the container for the macaroni and beef bowl was a little upsetting. 

Disclaimer: Everything reviewed was sent to us for free in exchange for my honest opinion.

So Awesome it Hurt

Rocket's poetry slam

Not to be a pessimist - okay, I have to admit that this is a pessimistic perspective - but my first morning alone wasn't nearly as great as I imagined. Somehow I knew I was building it up in my head to an unreachable level of greatness and sure enough, it failed to be great. First, I had to drive carpool to help out my co-carpooling friend and second, I have the early stages of ebola. It shows how far we've come as a epidemically freaked out country when I joke about having ebola and no one remembers what ebola means. If I'd say swine flu, masks would be slapped on and I'd be hosed down in Purell faster than I could blink (mostly because I'm so tired that blinking requires great effort and time).

I spent the first hour of my time alone fighting the urge to do something. I watched a show I'd recorded while forcing myself to not get up and finish the project for Rocket's school, answer email, or gather receipts. I'm too type-A for my own good. For the record, when I was younger, I thought type-A was among the highest compliments; now I just want to watch Models of the Runway for 20 minutes without compulsively multi-tasking. It's not healthy and I know it.

When I later told Kevin about this struggle against doing something productive during that first hour, he said "Good for you...for resisting the urge to do something." This may read as supportive, but it was said sardonically. Another thing I resisted was the urge to hang up on him.

During the second hour, my cold or whatever it is that includes a cough that sounds like a ball bearing bouncing around in a metal box, got worse and suddenly I wanted to rest. I forced myself to flip through Via, AAA's monthly magazine because I had promised myself I'd read magazines during my free time and Via requires the least brain power to get through. I had to look at a magazine or else I feared I'd fall asleep and no alarm could wake me up in time to pick up Rocket.

So that was day one. While not ideal, it was still awesome in its own way.

A few things I learned:
* I talk to myself.

* It's depressing when I couldn't figure out what was wrong with the "before" clothes on What Not to Wear.

* A Febreze commercial was one of the most delusional I've ever seen. A mom walks into her teenage son's room holding a bottle of Febreze. The room is perfectly clean, like this-house-is-on-the-market clean. My room wasn't that clean even after I went away to college. Anyway, the mom claims her son's room smells and since he has friends coming over, she needs to Febreze it. Her son is briefly skeptical, but then gets into it, totally into it in a way that conveys he must be stoned and trying his best to appear normal in front of his mom. Seriously, lady, crack a window. A room that clean cannot smell that bad unless something hidden under the bed or in the closet is decomposing and no amount of Febreze can mask that.

A New Era Begins

I've never had a paid babysitter for my kids. Family will watch them for an occasional date night and friends have watched them for a few hours here and there now that the kids are older, but overall, for 99% of their days, I've been with them. It's my job, one that I take seriously. Luckily we live in an age when more people realize how much work it is to devote your days to raising children, but there are still people who seem to think being a stay at home mom is nothing but bon bons and Oprah. That opinion is hardest to deal with when it comes from other moms, especially.

This week a new era begins. In many ways for the past three years I've looked at it as a finish line of sorts. Obviously my mom job is far from over, but what is ending is the period of very early childhood allowing energy to ever so slightly shift back to me. Beginning this week, both of my kids will be in school. This Wednesday will be the first day that both of my kids are in school at the same time and I will be alone. The day, Sept. 15, has been circled on my calendar for almost a year and I cannot wait.

Rocket is in school three days a week, pretty much only giving me about nine hours a week alone and even though I'll spend much of that time cleaning, organizing or running to Target, I will be alone with only myself to care for. Doctors appointments will not involve dragging two kids along. Eyebrow waxing appointments will not include an audience. I can triple the number of errands I run without having to load anyone else in and out of the car, and not having to make sure they both have something to drink and do not need to use the bathroom. I can go to the gym during daylight hours. I can listen to NPR without interruption.

I already have a long list of things I want to accomplish on the days both kids are in school, but this Wednesday is different. After dropping off Rocket, I plan to stop at Starbucks on my way home, then once at home, do nothing. I may read a few magazines or catch up on a TV show, but that first morning, I will not do any work around the house. It's going to be quiet and that alone will be perfect.

Welcome back, sanity! My how I've missed you.

(So help me, if the dog causes any problems for me on Wednesday, I will have a nervous breakdown. The dog has a knack for filling any stress-free moments with chaos.)

Fun with Kids in San Francisco

As is our tradition, we head to San Francisco for at least one day on Labor Day weekend when the Bay Bridge is closed for repairs. Some day the bridge will be fixed and this tradition will either end or feature more struggles for parking. When the Bay Bridge is closed, we've never encountered parking problems or large holiday crowds, but maybe I shouldn't tell people that because the common belief seems to be that this is the weekend to avoid San Francisco.

We stopped in Chinatown to walk around, shop and watch fortune cookies being made. The fortune cookie factory is slightly bigger than my kitchen and surprisingly even more cramped, but the kids loved it, especially because you stand only about two feet away from the woman pulling the warm cookie discs off the pressing machine, quickly slapping a fortune on each, then in two simple moves, folding up the cookies and tossing them into a pile. Parts of Chinatown do feel like we're in another country, so hopefully the kids go back to school feeling like they went on an exotic foreign vacation.

Godzilla crushes Chinatown!

We headed to the Presidio to the very cool Julius Kahn park for lunch and play. We'd picked up banh mi from a place we'd heard was the best. I loved the spice, but the chicken was too greasy for me. I need a more Americanized banh mi.

Despite being surrounded by unique playground equipment, Rocket was the only kid in the park drawn to this:

Neither rain, sleet or sand will stop him.

The same plastic crap found in most backyards, and mostly likely dumped in the park by someone finished with it.

"Why, why do you want to play with that when there is so much fun stuff all around you?" I asked. "It has a mailbox!" he responded. Great. Eventually I pulled him away from it and he never looked back.

After that we went to the beach at Crissy Field, which is perfect for kids. It's full of great views and the waves are small so when one of the kids inevitably gets caught in a wave, it's not scary (except for Rocket, who swallowed salt water and later for me when I realized how much sand stuck to wet Rocket and would be following us into our car, even with a change of clothes).

Like almost all sojourns into the city, we ended up at the Ferry Building to pick up dinner at Out the Door and milkshakes at Taylor's Refresher to top off a nearly perfect day. See you next year, San Francisco! (Just kidding, we're going to a Giants game tonight.)

For Those Wondering What it's Like to Have a Sister

Back fat pinch!

For the record, I am neither the pincher or the pinchee in this photo. They're both my sisters. I'm just the one putting it on the Internet for the world to see.

Giants Trees and Their Museum

While in the Central Valley last weekend, we had most of a day to kill, which either meant braving the little motel pool practically on main street for all cars passing to see or take the kids to a National Park. Not being an exhibitionist, I opted for the park.

The kids were great about the corkscrew road leading through the park to the giant Sequoias, taking us up higher and higher across incredibly dry, rocky land, until dropping us on the other side, full of green trees. We walked around, saw the giant trees, climbed some rocks and enjoyed the shady respite from the sun. Some of us even marveled at the cute and bold squirrels that turned out to be chipmunks. Okay, maybe that was me and I may have been corrected by one of my children.

On our way out, we stopped at the museum because our kids insist on hitting every museum known to man. If people started calling their garage sales museum shops, my kids would beg to stop at them all. I made a great discovery at the tree museum: I am not a fan of museums. I like to visit, but at a faster clip than most. My kids went through this small, but nicely done tree museum at a snail's pace. I got the same over dramatic feeling I'd get as a kid, when I thought one more moment of that torture would surely kill me. Unlike my childhood hate of broccoli, this doesn't seem to be something I'm outgrowing. Thankfully, we all made it out alive.