Good Morning, Good Morning, Good Morning to You

This is one of my favorite pictures...

but for some reason Blake finds it embarrassing!

Blake had just turned 5, Paige was 2,

and I was still firmly in my 20's :)

I am the queen of snooze on weekdays.  I know that as soon as I peel my eyes open, I am officially at work so I generally allow my repeatedly blaring cell phone alarm to ease me into the day.  I usually end up crawling out of bed when I hear the kids come sneaking into our bathroom to steal the shower.  I have no idea what is so much more appealing about using the bathroom in our bedroom when they have one right in between their very own bedrooms.

At some point this morning, I mistakingly turned my alarm off instead of hitting snooze.  When I finally woke up and looked at the clock, which read 7:20, I was hit with the dreaded realization that I hadn't heard the pitter patter of my children's feet.  The house is completely silent.  I scan our bed for any stowaways but it is only me and Henry.

Blake's and Paige's alarms are set for 6:45 and they are always upstairs by 7.  On the very rare occasion that I have to go drag them out of bed, it is never pretty.  It is bad enough that I am not a morning person, so I am very happy to have three other family members that tend to jump out of bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.  But when they are tired in the morning, it is NO good.

So I take a deep breath and put my feet to the floor knowing that I am in for a bumpy ride this morning.  I turn the corner to head downstairs and what do I spy with my little eyes...

Two children so enthralled in their books,

they didn't even glance up when I took the picture.

 It looks a little like a 'Good Morning to Me'!

Swinging for the Fences

It is that time of year to switch out "the gear".  Time to put away the bats, balls, gloves, and cleats.  As the focus shifts to football, I thought it would be a good time to reminisce about baseball and softball from the season that is quickly slipping away.

Avon Youth Baseball -
Blake had another great baseball season.  This year he moved up to the peewee level which means a lot more realistic style of game.  Gone are the coach pitchers and catchers.  At this level, the players play all of the positions and the coaches get to just be coaches.  Also gone are 'the swing until you get a hit' and 'everybody gets a chance to bat' type rules.  Welcome to three strikes and your out and three outs to an inning.  Blake really enjoyed getting the chance to pitch and catch.  I enjoyed watching the boys out on the field, looking so serious in their uniforms.

Albany Softball -
This was Paige's first year of softball and she was so excited to practice and play.  The rules for her league were similar to Blake's.  The girls teams have a much larger age range so the older girls pitch, catch and play the infield while the younger girls catch and play outfield.  Paige really loved getting to play in the catcher's position but would get a bit distracted while playing in the outfield.  Regardless, she looked forward to every game with the "Red Roosters".

Minnesota Twins -
 I don't think there is any doubt that the Twins did not have a spectacular 2011 season.  But that didn't make it any less fun to watch them play.  We went to several games again this year.  Henry and I were able to make it for the home opener and to a Twins/Yankees match-up with some good friends.  We also made it to a few games with the family, including one where we sat right behind the visitor's dugout!  The weather this summer made for beautiful outdoor games, very much unlike the kind of weather we experienced last year.  Hmmm, but then the Twins had a much better record last season.  I'm not liking that correlation one bit!

View from the seats behind the dugout.

Camp Memories

Happy Camper!

Blake attended the final week of Elks Camp again this Summer.  And once again, he had an "awesome" time.  I must say it was much easier for me this year than last year.  It is strange having zero contact with your child for an entire week.  It is of course made easier by the fact that he is surrounded by friends (and that we are good friends with the family that runs the camp).  I know he had a great time doing good old-fashioned summer camp activities like archery, bonfires, contests, swimming, crafts, and of course plenty of skits and songs.

Since this week was just for the campers, we decided to add a little book-end fun for the non-campers.  Camp drop-off was on Sunday so we enjoyed some Saturday festivities up north with a couple families.  We turned Sunday into an event as well and dropped the boys off at camp by pontoon and then spent some time hanging out on the lake.  The following weekend we decided to "sneak" up to camp with a couple families to check out what an evening at camp is like.  We were only there for a short time, but it looked like so much fun!  (And from a mother's point of view, it also appeared to be very organized, clean, and safe... so that was fun for me.)  To top it all off, we saw the Northern Lights from the boat after we left camp that night.  I don't think I have seen them since I was a kid...very cool!  It was a fun way to spend some time with good friends as the summer winds down.  But no fears about losing touch with them over the winter because, of course, we'll see them all at the rink very soon!

Three excited boys on their way to camp.

The sisters decided to take their own transportation.

After drop-off at camp, the Dads picked up the sparkly boat and we headed to the sandbar.

Bonfire on the final night of camp.

Everyone trying to take pictures of the Norther Lights.
It didn't work.

 Blake is already looking forward to next year.  And Paige too, since she will be old enough to be invited to attend.  Hmmm, I'm thinking an adult summer camp sounds fun.  But then again, I think there have been some movies made based on that premise...

He'll Give You The Jersey Right Off His Back

Despite having crazy hockey schedules for the kids, we only ended up missing two SCSU games this entire season.  They didn't have the greatest year, but we are still fans.  I will say that I would be more than happy to never hear "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba ever again.  They played the whole obnoxious "I get knocked down but I get up again" thing every time they got scored on.  I was about to write a letter, compose an e-mail, or make a phone call to tell them that either they need to start playing a different song or quit getting scored on.  One or the other, because I was about to lose my mind.  Fingers are crossed that both change for next season!  Because, we'll be back.  After all, we have been going to games since the time when we only needed two tickets for the four of us to get in.  Blake could still sit on Henry's lap and I was waddling down the stairs to our seats with my big belly full o' Paige.

This year, the last home game of the regular season was a throwback jersey and silent auction night.  Henry has been waiting a long time for this night.  It's kind of a long story, but don't worry, I'm gonna tell it.  Two years ago, Henry tried to win Garrett Roe's game jersey in a silent auction because #9 was Blake's favorite Husky hockey player.  It came down to Henry and another guy bidding back and forth in the final minutes before the auction ended.  Finally, the other guy tells Henry that he would really like to have his son's jersey.  Henry was bidding against Garrett Roe's dad.  Henry, of course, stops bidding and the two chat for a couple minutes while Henry explains that Garrett is our 7 year old son's favorite player.  So Garrett's dad gives Henry his e-mail address and promises to set up a special meeting for Blake.  Blake did get that special meeting which included a tour of the locker room, meeting the players and coaches, getting autographs, a photo, and even one of Garrett's game sticks (see post "Super Bowl Homeboy" from February 2009).  He was on cloud 9!  Needless to say #9 became a favorite player for our entire family.  And Henry still wanted that jersey.

So fast forward two years, it is now Garrett's senior year and last regular season home game of his SCSU career.  There was no doubt on Saturday, that we were going home with that jersey.  After the game, all of the auction winners were invited down on the ice to meet their players, take a picture, and get the game jersey.  The kids were so excited to get the actual jersey off his back, Paige even said she was going to smell it.  For those of you that don't know, hockey stinks.  No one else wanted to smell that jersey.

After the game (Which turned out to be a great game and a huge win!), we head down to the ice and wait our turn in line.  When we get to Garrett, there are hand shakes, hugs, and smiles.  He tells Paige that he likes her eyes (they were glittered from Blake's game earlier in the day).  She takes it literally, and you could almost see her melt.  Yes, we make her smell the jersey.  Yes, it stinks.   We took pictures and chatted for a few minutes.   Then it was time to go.  As we are walking off the ice, Blake turns back to Garrett and says, "Thanks for the memories."  Now, it was my turn to melt.

The kids fought over who got to hold the bag with the jersey in it the entire way home.  Now, with the wall location already determined, I just need to get it framed.  It is just a hockey sweater, but what it represents is undeniable: hockey, family time, innocence, smiles, heroes, joy.  Yes indeed, thanks for the memories.

A Woman's Work

I hate ironing.  I didn't always hate it, in fact, I used to enjoy it.  I spent countless hours in my teenage years ironing mountains of shirts and lab coats for my stepdad.  It was a mindless task that had a beginning and an end, plus I kind of liked the smell of Niagara and Magic Sizing spray starches.  I don't know when I started to despise the task, maybe when it became something that I HAD to do instead of something that I could do if I was bored and wanted to be productive while watching TV.

Henry has asked me multiple times to consider getting his shirts dry cleaned or at least professionally pressed.  Alas, I just cannot bring myself to pay someone to do this daunting task for me.  And it infuriates me that I cannot get the shirts perfectly pressed myself.  Therefore, I am bound and determined to do it myself.  And, until I figure out the right method, Henry will have to wear the semi-wrinkly shirts with the knowledge that I have given it my all.

Maybe shirts aren't made out of the same fabrics as they were in yesteryear.  Maybe my stepdad just wore wrinkly shirts.  I have no other explanation for my inability to get the damn things perfectly smooth.  I actually googled "how to iron shirts".  The method suggested was to douse the shirts with a spray bottle of water and proceed to iron the shirt inside, then outside, and repeat if necessary.  Yes, I do this.  And yes, I feel the sting of defeat as I place the still semi-rumpled garment on the hanger.

Then comes my other complaint with men's clothing.  Who's bright idea is it to use patterns (StRiPeS) that make you feel like you are going to vomit as you are ironing them?  I know I am generally to blame for purchasing them, but you don't realize the mistake until the first time you lay them out on the board.  I just finished ironing and being dizzied by the shirt pictured above.  Then, as I was hanging it up, I notice a stain.  ARGH!  (Yes, I'm a pirate.)  Seriously, I'm thinking of checking the tag for a warning about seizure inducing characteristics.

I promised Henry last night that I would iron the mounting wardrobe that taunts me every time I walk through the laundry room.  And I will.  It is my job.  My challenge.  And my seemingly unbeatable nemesis.  I will use the knowledge that I have gained throughout my years, and in my quest to be a domestic goddess (that was supposed to be funny, seriously), to provide my family with pristine dress wear.  I will not be ashamed when I see crinkles and wrinkles, but feel pride in the fact that I will not give up, and maybe next time, I will do better.

I have always loved to learn and I take comfort in knowing that I can learn valuable lessons that will help me in my pursuit of perfection.  For example, I learned while in Mexico, that ironing clothes while wearing a bikini after drinking numerous margaritas can lead to abdominal burns.  I didn't seem to mind, at the time, perhaps drinking margaritas while doing housework is the solution!

I am now saying to myself, "Self, writing this blog post was an exceptionally fun method of procrastination."  Now back to the ironing...

A woman's work is never done.