Confessions from the Homefront

1. Cling wrap is an art form - and I suspect Impressionism might be easier to master.
2. If you drop a 32-ounce jar of minced garlic on the floor, some if it will somehow end up on the ceiling.  And some in your nose.
3. Those disposable Gladware containers reproduce in dark cupboards - and they feed the lids to their Gladware young.
4. The outlets in all three bathrooms are not functional, and we're too proud to have our electrician come out and charge us $60 to reset the breakers.  For a third time.  Because we can never remember how to do it.
5. If eating two Fiber One bars for breakfast upsets your stomach, I don’t recommend following it with a lunch of undercooked red beans and rice.
6. Make sure the burners are completely cool before  using the stove-top as a staging area for baking ingredients.  Five pounds of sugar formerly stored in a Ziploc is not a fun cleanup.
7. There aren't enough old dance costumes in the house to satisfy a five year old with a DWTS obsession.  We need more sequins, stat.

The Results

Sage was, sadly, smoked in the 400 meter run.  She was urged by all to run the inside lane, and apparently listened well to her parents and coaches.

She waited until everyone else was off the starting line, jogged from her outside lane to the inside and then took off.  Parenting and coaching lesson #29 - five year olds take life literally.  Fortunately, I was able to distract her from the loss with five Girl Scout cookies, a hotdog, some Doritos, a Gatorade, nachos and some sort of sour candy that turned her tongue all stripey,

And we wonder why teen girls feed their emotions.

Both girls' teams placed in the 400 meter relay, so ours was a happy ride home. 

Softball is supposed to start this week, and a huge thank you to the mom who warned me that the kids share a batting helmet.  Just... ick.  Little 98.6 degree heads wedged into a plastic and foam shell on a 98.6 degree day can only result in serious funkiness.  We'll be picking up our own this week.

In completely unrelated news, the cat that we found in 2009 and who was supposed to be jettisoned into a new and wonderful life in someone else's home is finally getting spayed this Saturday.  She's in heat yet again and somehow managed to escape for a few hours this morning, so the timing could not be better.

That said, she was panting, hissing and beyond terrified when we found her, so I think it's a safe bet that her virtue is still intact. 

I'm going to end this before it devolves into a stream of wildly inappropriate consciousness about her beyond terrible disposition, her current physical state and the poor male cat that wanders our street.

Happy News

I must have been in a sunburn induced coma - we realised this week that Ashton did in fact place in the 400 relay and thus lives to run another day.

The umbrella, hat and sunscreen are already in the car.

Sports

Such an emotion-laden word, especially for those of us who tried, and failed, on the green fields of glory.  It should have been a huge hint to take up knitting when I was unable to muster a single overhand pull-up for the Presidential Fitness Challenge.  Ever.  Thank you, Messrs. Reagan and Schwarzenegger, for that annual reminder that, despite good nutrition at home, a physique that a string bean might envy and energy levels that often left my mother gasping for air and words, I was in fact, not physically fit.

I tried gymnastics, baseball, and soccer.  Some days were better than others, but I generally lacked the coordination to get all four limbs moving in concert towards an achievable goal.  Likewise, I dreaded the running, basketball and tennis sections of PE for all of the same reasons. 

Mom, in possible desperation, enrolled me in dance – and at first it appeared that my arms and legs were once again controlling me, not the other way around.  And then we hit upon drill team.  I might not be able to walk from one side of a room to another without incident, but I was apparently fine with complicated movement so long as someone else planned it, set it to a catchy tune and handed me some pom poms.  Shiny...

Fast forward twenty years.

Given that I have a full set of matching emotional baggage concerning sports, my heart broke into a million pieces when Sage placed in her track and field events whilst Ashton did not.

But Ashton, once again, proved that she walks her own, better, path.  She was the proud big sister, smiling even bigger than her slightly confused and admittedly overwhelmed sibling.  She was happy, confident and simply thrilled to have had a great day outside with her friends.  Pleased to have competed, pleased to be a part of a team, and that’s an achievement that she can keep and nurture and take with her for a lifetime.  That kind of joy is something to cherish, and something that will serve her well as she grows – in good times, and in the inevitable not so good times. 

I love my little bug, and every single day she does something that amazes me, makes my heart swell with even more pride and reminds me that she is her own person, and that she is a better person.

Spring... Texas Style

March is, in a word, glorious in the Austin / San Antonio area.  Warm (not hot) breezy days, nights with just enough bite in the air, wildflowers, and all the blue skies anyone could possibly ask for.  I'm convinced God gave us this small gift to trick us into staying for all the other months that are not March.

All that and more was in full display today. We saw the first bluebonnets along Highway 90 as we drove early this morning to a track meet for the girls, everyone bundled in two layers with our winter coats in hand.

And then the wind died down.

And the coats came off.

And I realized, belatedly, that I had committed a novice Texas weather foul - no hats, no sunscreen.

So, on March 3rd, after a high of only 70 degrees, both children are covered in aloe, Rob's scalp is bright enough to land airplanes, and I am wondering if it is an entirely bad idea to spray lidocaine directly into my ears because it's burned in there as well.