mexican moon

last night little c played his second soccer game.

he dribbled.

he passed.

he scored for the other team. twice.

and then he cried. the whole second half.

he cried

and cried

and cried

you can imagine my enthusiasm being the mom of "that" kid who won't stop crying.

i contemplated giving him something to cry about, but then i remembered he was my baby. and i love him. and people were watching. and that makes it really hard to hide the evidence.

and then he had a super-hero popsicle and all was right in the world again.

big c brought her friend rachael with her to the game. they're besties. or so she says.

they met on the bus. they're both in 3rd grade. and she lives a quarter of a mile away.

all the fixins of a best friend relationship.

after the game we took the kids to chilis for dinner. rachael explained that she had NEVER been to chilis.

now, i confess that chilis is not one of my favorites. the service is usually slow.  the drinks contain little to no alcohol (and let's face it... after a cry baby session at a soccer game with 3 kids, one would probably require a numbing, make the screaming go away, put on a happy face and pretend you like these kids, type of drink). but that's just me.  and i've eaten there so many times that everything starts to taste a little bit like diarrhea. especially the queso.

not that i would know what that tastes like.

so, we put our names on the list and waited. "5 minutes". 15 minutes.

i had the pleasure of watching a woman smoke a cigarette outside while she and her baby daddy waited for a table. she was at least 7 months pregnant.  it was hot. and healthy.

don't get me started on how i felt entitled to go ballistic on this chick.  grab her by her overprocessed ponytail and give her a piece of me. (just like my dad says). that whole "mind your own business" and "it doesn't affect you" went right out the poop shoot.  she made her condition everyone's business when she lit up, while sporting a form fitting tank, outside a public eatery.

but i didn't want to alarm the kids.

and the aviator would've flipped.

and i was hungry.

fast forward 15 minutes and we've placed our order - 3 kids' meals and a salad. (and a bloody mary. or 2).

the kids worked on their activity menu while we waited.

then they showed us these:

it's a picture of a sick kid from st. jude's hospital.

have they no class?

it looks like we're all going to hell.

in their defense, they had no idea who the little girl was.

at least little c didn't. kid can't even read.

fast forward another 50 minutes. we finally got our food. 3 kids' meals and a salad. seriously?

i'm sure that after the second time the waitress promised us that "your food is coming out right now" i gave her what was originally termed "the look" by my first club soccer coach when i was in the 7th grade.

it's not a pretty look. i think i've given it to the aviator once. it was just now when he walked through the kitchen and accused me of giving it to him when he popped open a jar of pepperocinis. as a meal. after i offered to make him something. oh, he might say it's been more. but he lies.  a lot. with a straight face.

look girls.  see "the look". fear "the look". girls?

little c. you're afraid of mommy, aren't you?

after that, the waitress kept hovering at our table and giving us that pathetic "is everything okay?". and she was squatting and crossing her arms on the table and resting her head on her arms. like a puppy would do if it were 5'6" with curly blonde hair.

that's right. i'm mean. and scary. and i can cut people to the core with my "look". ask around.

and then i tipped her 25% and we left.

and we drove home. and this happened...

big c: "did you know today is a mexican moon holiday?"

the aviator: "what does that mean?"

big c: "well, see all of those clouds around the moon? those are just there because it's a mexican holiday."

the aviator: "does that mean that they're mexican clouds?"

big c: "whuuuuuht?"

silence.

what clouds? and it was september 17th.

goodbye.

- dimply stacy

soccer and the ocean

little c also had his first soccer game last weekend. i lied about his age so he could play. i lie a lot. surely the soccer gods will damn me to hell, but i like to live on the wild side, so i risked it. the youngest division they have is U-6, so i stuck my 3 year old out there to fend for himself with the 5 year old monsters. "mama loves you, buddy. gotta man up sometime." oh, i talk a mean game, but let's be serious. he's my baby. my 3 year old baby. he still has two more years until kindergarten. if anyone hurts him, i'll kill 'em. in their sleep. with a dull knife. i'm serious.

so, the game went like this... 

seriously, child. be cuter.

notice the toy story soccer ball. i agree that this makes him somewhat of a pansy. nothing says "i don't take this seriously, and i'm gonna pick flowers the whole game" like a disney pixar ball. that glows in the dark. and rest assured that this is something that i NEVER would have allowed big c to sport, but, well, he's my baby. and it's cute. and yes, this makes me a bad mom.

now, here's where the magic begins. little c did not wipe this smile off of his face the entire game.  remember my theory from big c's game? soccer is not supposed to be fun.  but the smile is contagious. 

the kid's gonna be great. not this season so much. but eventually.

getting schooled by a little girl with baby pink cleats is NOT a laughing matter. for real.

but then there's the skills. the mad skills.

and the natural ability to look like a soccer player, even with a smile on his face.

but then he poses for the camera, with a huge grin, and the skills go down the drain.

teammate n, with the ball, he gets it. he's good. already.

meanwhile... what are you looking at, baby? the game's the other direction. oh, is it a butterfly? pay attention, dang it. but you don't even have a number. my poor poor numberless, clueless, child. 

the backup plan: taking down anyone in his way.

including his teammates. eat that, little girl.

oh, you're getting subbed out after bulldozing everyone on the field? come to mama.

mama still loves you.

mama would have taken them out for you if you wanted me to.  (and let me add, the coach in the background... for the "other team" ... insert bad word of your choice. little c's feet got tangled up with his kid's feet and he made a big ol' fat scene on the field and accused my baby of yanking his kid down in dirty fashion by the neck. oh sure, i totally kept my composure for that one. ) 

you have a sip, little c. mama has to whoop some... yea, i didn't do anything.

i'm proud of you too. 

see there.  i told you this would be full of pictures of kids who aren't yours. feel free to skim right over those. or send me a picture of your kid, and i can put it up on my blog for other people to wonder why the hell i have a picture of some random kid. 


in other news, little c just told me that he can hear the ocean in my thigh. right after he told me "i love you so much". right before i wiped his butt. right after the "quickest poop ever". the aviator explained that this is because my thighs are so big. he'll sleep on the couch tonight. and now i need a drink. and some hot tamales. 


- dimply stacy

virgin posting

well folks, here we go. after months of listening to people tell me to "start a blog" or "write a book" or "get a life", i'm doing it. not getting a life... just starting a blog. and to be honest, i'm starting it out of fear that my mother-in-law will chew me out repeatedly if i don't start posting some pictures of her precious grandchildren.

so, here they are

this is where they sleep. and where they go to time out. the end.

just kidding.

i guess i'll start with an explanation of what you can expect from my blog.

1. nothing funny
2. grammatical errors
3. oh, i mean no grammatical errors
4. things i bake for others
5. and then eat before i give it to them
6. typos
7. pictures of kids who aren't yours so you probably won't care too much
8. stories about things the kids say
9. can i have your tots?
10. coupons. because it's how i roll.
11. stories about things the kids do wrong
12. stories about nothing
13. fights i have with the aviator
14. i'm hungry
15. things i sew
16. whatever i feel like writing
17. all complaints
18. pictures of food when i'm hungry
19. things i cook
20. anything else i put on here and don't tell you about because it's none of your business
21. i'm sorry about the last one

let's begin, shall we? i think so.

big c and little c had their first soccer games this weekend. big c is not a chip off the old block. this by no means insinuates that i was great, or even good, but i was. WAS. it simply means that by age 6 i was competitive to the point of tears if we did not win, and i did not score at least 3 goals. soccer was not something i played to socialize with friends or have fun. soccer was my passion. at age 6. when asked if big c wanted to play academy soccer, she asked what color her uniform would be. that's a NO. she also asked if she could wear a bow in her hair. moving on...

here's how it went down...

her game face. insert mom not happy.

and then this happened

um, can i get a tissue?

big c appears to be looking up the field, but she's really just smiling

but that doesn't make me any less proud

game over. her team lost. but she sure did look cute on the field. almost like a soccer player.

and did i mention that i was somehow tricked into sort of coaching this team? not cool. i don't want to coach big c. i never have. i find myself yelling at her the entire game. and i know i'm making ugly faces because well, that's what i do. but this is backwoods florida. and nobody wants to coach. so i'll do it. i don't like it, but i'll do it. and she'll just have to get yelled at game after game. i did. thanks dad. no permanent damage there. but that's another story.

stay tuned for an update on cash's game. brace yourself for the cuteness and pure physical strength that can come out of a 3 year old.

- dimply stacy

(i intended to sign it "simply stacy", but i think the slip of the finger was fate. and so it shall be)