Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to all my mommy friends, my mom, and my wonderful mother-in-law!  I'm so glad each and every one of you are a part of our lives!

We spend Saturday at the Houston Zoo with Mike's parents.  The kids had a blast - thank you so much for coming to visit, Gigi and GoPaw!

Such a sweet pic!

I've said it before and I'll say it again - Sophia doesn't like men very much, but she sure does love her GoPaw!

Look at my sweet kids - they really make it all worth it!

On Sunday, after church, we spent the day at my mom's house with lots of family and some dear friends.  I'm not sure how it happened, but apparently the only picture I took while at my mom's house was of my brother Aaron wearing a watermelon on his head . . . I have a video, too - but I love him too much to post it!

Yep, you did that.  But honestly, if you hadn't done it, I was about to do it.  So, kudos to you!

Overall, such a beautiful weekend!  Again, Happy Mother's Day to all!

Kid Sports

While I'm on the subject of crazies . . . I've always heard stories of crazy people at children's sport games, and I honestly haven't understood it.  But I do now . . .

As you know, Sammy is playing T-Ball.  3 year old T-Ball.  For the YMCA.  Their motto is "Work Hard.  Play Hard.  Pray Hard."  And through our fall soccer season, and most of our spring T-Ball season, I've seen that motto in action.  Until now.

Today, we played a team which will remain nameless.  It was our second time to play this team, and the kids are really sweet, and most of the parents are as well.  Except the head coach.  I thought he was a bit off the first time we played this team, but now, he's really gone too far.

This coach picks up every single player from the bench and carries them to the tee.  He places them on the ground, then perfectly arranges their feet, and places the bat in their hands.  Then he places the bat up on their shoulders and walks off.  And each child hits the ball into the outfield, beyond second base.  In three year old T-Ball.

Let's talk about their fielding game.  Anyone who's seen three year old T-Ball knows that it pretty much looks like herding cats.  In other words - total chaos.  The ball is hit off the tee (after SEVERAL swings), and lands somewhere close to where the pitcher's mound should be.  And every child, from the pitcher, to the third baseman, to even the first baseman, runs for the ball.  Sometimes they all pile on top of the ball.  And even wrestle around with the ball, until nature (or the coach) decides who should throw the ball to first base. 

Not so with this team.  Every player stands perfectly still in their spot.  They do not move, unless the ball comes exactly in their direction.  And they are placed perfectly in their spot by their coach, who pulls printed off field assignments out of his back pocket and rotates them each inning.  Yes, the three year old T-Ball coach has field assignments.  Are you kidding me?

The first time we played this time, my husband jokingly said that they must have had secret tryouts.  Now, I know that they did.  And I also know that they must practice every day.  Because none of the three year olds on our team play like that.

Now, don't get me wrong - perfectly placing each batter, printed field assignments, yada yada yada - all that is funny.  And it's good discipline.  But, these kids are three.  And let's talk about how really crazy this coach is.  Every other team that we've played, the games have lasted two innings.  But this coach insists on continuing to play until we've played at least one hour.  Which means our kids are playing for three innings.  One inning might not make a big difference to you or me, but to a three year old, it's an eternity.  These poor kids are exhausted.  They're crying, they're laying on the ground, and it's really sad.  Even his own team's players are exhausted.  They just don't have the attention span to make it beyond two innings.

And as for his teamwork and sportsmanship skills . . . when our team was up to bat in the second inning, the coach's son fielded the ball, and then threw it at our player who was running to first base.  Now, don't get me wrong, kids are kids, and they will do stuff like that.  However, instead of having his player apologize to the little boy who got beamed in the shoulder with the ball . . . he picked up his son, carried him to our player who was now being consoled on first base, took his son's mitt in his hand, and tagged our player, stating "No, you tag him with your glove."  Then he placed his son on the ground and stalked off.  No direction of an apology, no questioning whether our player was ok, nothing.  All game face.  Are you kidding me?

This is behavior that I would expect in a 12 year old Little League game.  Not a three year old YMCA T-Ball game.  I wonder how it feels to be a parent on this coach's team.  And I wonder if I would have the courage to speak up if I was.  What is this coach teaching our kids about teamwork and sportsmanship?  I'm really not sure, and that concerns me. 

Meanwhile . . . want to see Sammy hit a home run?  Or at least a run to first base anyway?

The Pancho Peach

This is a story that's been a long time coming, but I can't keep it a secret any longer!  About a month ago, we were going to the Mary Jo Peckham Park in Katy for a friend in our playgroup's birthday.  We arrived a few minutes earlier than our friends.  I had brought along a large play gym for Sophia, and set it up with a blanket underneath so she could crawl around and cruise along it at the park.

We hadn't been there more than a few seconds when a woman walked up to us.  She was wearing a large mexican pancho, the kind you can buy in any border town.  It was white with black stripes.  She was pushing a Graco travel system stroller, holding a baby not more than 5 months old, with a little boy about 3 years old sitting in an infant carseat in the stroller.  Yes, the 3 year old was in the infant carseat. 

Pancho Mama says "Where did you get that?" I respond, "at a garage sale, it was like $15." And she says, "Can I buy it from you?" Blank stare. "Um, well I'm using it right now." "I know, but can I buy it from you, because I need something like that." "Well, I think I might be using it for a little while longer." "OK." Pancho Mama strolls off, pushing the stroller with the little boy now walking beside her.

More of our friends show up at the park, and Pancho Mama strolls up again, stands right by us, and laughs when everyone else laughs. Quite weird, but no big deal. Pancho Mama strolls off.

Someone takes out bubbles. Pancho Mama runs up, pushing the stroller. Stands right by us. Laughs when everyone else laughs. Pancho Mama strolls off.

I take out sidewalk chalk. Pancho Mama runs up, pushing the stroller. Stands right by us. Laughs when everyone else laughs. Pancho Mama strolls off.

We light the candles on the birthday cake. Pancho Mama runs up, pushing the stroller. Stands right by us. Sings when everyone else sings. Pancho Mama strolls off.

My girlfriend Debra and I are standing next to each other, and another friend Julia is sitting across the table. Pancho Mama runs up, and says to Debra, "Are you guys a moms group?" I look around, see Sammy on the slide, and run over, abandoning Debra to be accosted by Pancho Mama. Meanwhile, I slyly look back - you see, Pancho Mama has already randomly tried to buy something from me, and is acting quite weird. I'm not dealing with that - I can smell crazy from a mile away now, and I'm done with that!

I asked Debra to share with me the details of her conversation with Pancho Mama . . . Here's her side of the story!

Pancho Mama -  Hey are you guys a mom's group

Debra - Yes, we are

Pancho Mama -  Like mom's international?

Debra - No, like meetup.com (thinking there is no harm here b/c there are several katy area groups on there)

Pancho Mama -  Oh like what is your group name?

Debra - (starting to kinda panic in what to do/say) so I say really super fast katygroup

Pancho Mama - oh ok, are your dues high?

Debra -  not really? are you in a mom's group?

Pancho Mama - Good, I was in mom's international, but the dues were so high and all my friends moved away and now it is just me.

Debra - Oh, I am sorry.

Pancho Mama - That's ok. I just really need to find a new mom's group.

Debra - Yea, that's cool.

Meanwhile . . . Our friend Julia is watching the entire conversation.  She's witnessed me escape, she's witnessed Debra's dagger eyes to me, and she's witnessed Debra squirm now.  I think she's guilty by association - what do you think?

So, Pancho Mama remains but a memory for a while.  However, this past Friday, almost a month and a half since the last appearance of Pancho Mama, she showed up again.  We went to the same park, this time for my children's birthday playdate.  We hadn't been there longer than 30 minutes when Pancho Mama showed up again.  This time in a peach colored polo shirt.  No pancho.  But due to alliteration, she will henceforth be known as the Pancho Peach.

The Pancho Peach hung around our group the entire time she was there.  When anyone tried to engage her in conversation, she told us about her former mom's group.  She also would randomly walk up to people in the park and stand very close to them.  It's all a bit strange, and I'm not quite sure how to respond.  On the one hand, one of the reasons why our playgroup exists is to provide a support group for stay-at-home moms, as we all know what a tough road it can be sometimes.  However, on the other hand, the behavior is strange, and I'm pretty much done with wacko people. 

What do you think?  Where do we go from here?  What if the Pancho Peach arrives at that park again?  How do we handle this - help the Pancho Peach learn some social skills?  Or move on?

Thanks to Debra, my guest blogger for the day!  :)  Also, share comments of other park weirdos!  I'd love to know we're not the only ones with park stalkers!

The Queen Bee

Mike and the kids gave me my mother's day present early.  Two days early, to be exact.  Perhaps because I asked for it, or perhaps because they were so excited!  I was excited, too . . . sort of.

For Christmas this past year, my gift was a Pandora clasp bracelet.  Ever since, I can count on receiving a Pandora charm to add to my bracelet for pretty much any occasion.  It's always exciting to see what's been picked out, and I enjoy looking over my charms and reminiscing.  So I was a bit taken aback to see this one . . .

The Queen Bee

My first thought was, "The Queen Bee-yotch?"  Really?  And this is supposed to be flattering?

I've done a bit of research, though.  And I've decided that I am quite honored.  You see, the queen bee actually has the most important role in the bee colony.  Most bees live in colonies, and each member of the colony contributes equally for the good of the entire bee society.  But the queen bee is the most important member, as without her, the bee colony collapses.

I feel pretty honored - I think it means I'm important.  And I'm needed.  And loved.  Which are all good things to be.  Happy Mother's Day to me!

Stinker

Who would have known that my daughter would be a stinker, too . . . she's quite the drama queen since she turned one a few weeks ago.  Her new favorite plaything?

Yep, toilet paper.  I thought only dogs did this?  Oh well, she does have a puppy on her shirt!