Papoe

Presenting the 2031 World Cup Soccer Star

 
Jury Duty almost caused me to miss Jocelyn's first soccer game. These are three year olds, so to call it a game is being kind. More like swarming bees that periodically dive bomb into the bushes. Apparently playing in front of a studio audience (parents) can call up a nasty case of stage fright. Regardless, I practiced my best soccer mom yell.

She is going to be SO embarrassed when she's older.

A new routine

We are adjusting to a new routine. One that includes waking at 6:00am, ironing for the week, packing lunches, and leaving the house in the morning with clean hair and two children at my heels (note to self: do not forget the children!). That list will grow, I’m sure, as we get further and further from away from the days when I could do a little work and tend to a little child while simultaneously keeping up on the details of Sonny and Brenda’s looming (will-they-or-won’t-they?) nuptials [General Hospital, for you non-soap-opera-watchers].

There have been many times in the last few years that Khary and I have looked at one another and asked, “How did we get to be so adult?” Time is a funny thing, in that one day you are making out in the back of a restaurant when you should be out on the floor (yes, we worked at said restaurant), and then suddenly you have two children and you’re channeling Jane Fonda and Dolly Parton, minus the giant boobs and sexual harassment.

To commemorate my first week back at work we ordered Chinese take-out, I went to my first Bikram yoga class in YEARS (which I thought would help my sore back. I am now stiff ALL OVER), Jocelyn and I spent a little quality time at the horse racing track, and we watched the Packers and Steelers dance their way to the Superbowl (Go Packers!). It was a good weekend.

Now I have to get off my ass because those clothes don’t seem to want to iron themselves.

We march to the beat of our own appreciation

There are a million things that I could list off when I think about what it is that I appreciate about the last year. There are big things: my girls, my husband, my new little niece Izzy (I'm an Auntie!). There are the small things: sleep, wine, peace and quiet.

And then there's the other thing: marching.

We are a sports family. I have mentioned my love for baseball and the Oakland A's. I am immensely proud that Jocelyn has learned the words to Take Me Out to the Ballgame. She threw her little hand up in the air to count one, two, three strikes you're out, and baseball ended. The fall months brought us something new. Football.

Not that football is new. But we have grown accustomed to watching the RedZone Channel (I won't bore you with the details of the channel, since I'm sure some of you don't care a lick about football). The Redzone is only "on" once the games start, at exactly 10am PST. In the minutes prior to gametime they have a digital countdown, and music playing. And this is when we march.

Why do we march? Well, because we are that special kind of crazy. We quickly realized that it made Jocelyn laugh. And now that Aja is coming into her own, we can hold her up and help her march in a circle, and then the girls place chase. And we clap, and we march, and stop periodically to salute. It is a glorious three minutes of crazy family fun. When it's over, Jocelyn asks for more and we sit down to happily catch our breath.

Sunday mornings won't be the same when the marching stops.

Reverb10, Day 14 (I'm a day late. I blame the babies). Prompt: Appreciate. What's the one thing you have come to appreciate most in the past year? How do you express gratitude for it?

It's the playoffs! I'm in love again.

My husband wooed me with baseball.

I am a former lover of the San Francisco Giants. I have returned that love to their rightful owners, the Oakland A’s. My reasons for this change are numerous, and some of them, quite frankly, don’t make a lot of sense (to other people). I have grown to love rooting against the Giants, especially when Barry Zito is pitching (BOO!)—oh wait, Barry Zito’s NOT pitching in the playoffs (HA!)—but the Giants will always have a special place in my heart.

In 2003, Khary and I had just started dating, and by just started I mean that I was keeping my options open. He was an A’s fan, and he couldn’t care less that the Giants had just squeaked their way into the playoffs. But I cared. So being the man that he is, he decided to wait in line for playoff tickets. For hours. I didn’t know this until later, after he handed me my ticket and said we were going to Game 1.

We sat way up in the third deck, sipped cold beer, and watched the Giants beat the Fish (Florida Marlins). I was on cloud nine and I knew this guy really liked me, which made me really like him. But no, he did not get laid that night. I is a lady.

In true Khary fashion, his support of my team only went so far. The Fish came back in Game 2 and 3, and then it was do or die in Game 4. I don’t like to talk about that game, but Khary does, because it involved my beloved J.T. Snow being thrown out at home plate to end the game. And what did Pudge Rodriquez (the catcher) do after J.T. was called out? He held the ball up in the air and shook it. What did Khary do? He laughed.

I could still take that ball and shove it back in Pudge’s face. I hate that guy.

The Giants are back in the playoffs, and we will definitely be watching. My allegiance is elsewhere, but I still enjoy a good game. I may secretly root for the Giants from time to time (maybe when I haven’t had my wine yet) but I take every opportunity to talk trash to the diehards. So here’s a special shout out to two of my favorite Giants fans—Mom and Amanda, I love you. Go Phillies! 

Pudge: I still hate you.

Pudge Rodriguez wasn't about to drop the ball after J.T. Snow crashed into him. (Alan Diaz/AP)

The ultimate seventh inning stretch

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My ultimate family vacation would be one long drawn out seventh inning stretch. A little hop, skip, and jump to each and every ballpark in the country. And if I’m talking about Ultimate, I want the full cooperation of my girls, which means no tantrums, no fighting, and full nights of rest and relaxation.

I would like a suite in each hotel, a gourmet restaurant that doesn’t frown upon children, and a dance floor where we can all shake our groove thangs every evening. I want four star room service and front row parking so we don’t miss a pitch. I want tours of the dugouts, free reign at dugout stores, and cotton candy without the cavities.

I want to run the bases at Fenway and Yankee Stadium, chanting “Let’s Go Oakland,” with my girls trailing behind me, clapping and skipping around each base. I want to spend one game with the A’s announcers so that I can chime in on the play-by-play, and score the game without any interruptions.

More than anything, I want to see the smiles on the faces of my family, and forget about any other stresses that come up in day-to-day life. One of the best things about baseball is the shared camaraderie you can feel with strangers during a few hours of sun and home runs. When it’s with your family it’s the ultimate. 

What is your ultimate family vacation?

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Don't forget to enter the “Do What You Love” Sweepstakes, for a chance to win your own ultimate family vacation. I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.