A Free Blog – Thanks to the Kids – Part 2

So for the fourth time in just the last seven weeks the boys have no school.  This time the day off is due to some teacher institute day.  You know I looked at the school calendar and realized that there is not ONE SINGLE MONTH where the boys have five days of school for four straight weeks.  They have at least one weekday off from school per month.  In fact when you factor in Thanksgiving break, Christmas break and Spring break the kids have a total of 29 days off from school during the year.  They actually only go to school eight months a year.  When you think about it like that the only job we’re preparing them for later in life is major league baseball.  Professional baseball players work about eight months out of the year.  And since I’ve seen many of these young kids play baseball . . . . well I can say with a fair amount of certainty that we’re pretty much setting them up for failure.  They’re going to need a 12-month a year job.

But that’s not where I’m going with this blog.  I mention the day off from school only because as with most days off I had a house full of boys.  My two boys and three play dates.  I had five boys over for the entire day due to this ridiculous day off which means I spent the entire day playing entertainment director, umpire, and cook.  I was “all-time” QB for their football game, and was yelled at by a number of eight year olds every time one of my passes missed its target.  I was the umpire for their wiffle ball game, which unfortunately came to an abrupt end after one of the boys picked up home plate and threw it over the fence into the neighbor’s yard after he disagreed with one of my calls.  And I spent a fair amount of time in the kitchen making lunch which consisted of 53 chicken nuggets, half a bag of cheese popcorn, half-dozen cans of soda and five candy bars.   They wanted more, but they wiped me out.

But it was while I was in the kitchen making the second round of nuggets that I overheard this conversation between the boys:

“If you date a girl who has an older sister, do you think you get to date her too?”

“No, but I think you get to see her boobs.”

And that’s when I realized that it was time for a follow up to my blog “A Free Blog – Thanks to the Kids,” which I originally posted back in January.

April of ’06 –

My son calls my wife into his room after she’s just tucked him into bed.  It seems his top sheet is wedged at the bottom of the bed.  My wife comes in to ask what the problem is and he says “Mom, my covers are broken.”

September of ’07 –

While telling us about his day at dinner one night, my oldest son tells us that he got hit in the face with a soccer ball during a scrimmage at recess.  My wife asks him if he had to stop playing, and he says “Mom, we’re men, not babies.”

November of ’08 –

My son has the following conversation with my wife:

“Mom, Sally and her parents split up,” he says, very concerned.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Sally’s not living at home anymore.”

Of course, Sally had just gone to college.

May of ’09 –

While out playing soccer in the front yard, my son grabs his soccer ball and puts it back in the garage. He then informs me that he needs a new soccer ball.  I ask him if the one he has just needs air and he says “No, it’s just so old I can’t kick it anymore.”

January of ’10 –

My wife and her good friend, who now lives in Arizona, agree to meet in Vegas for a “girl’s weekend.”  Upon hearing this, my oldest son is very worried and doesn’t want her to go.  “Mom, don’t go to Vegas,” he says.  “You’ll gamble away the family fortune and we’ll be living on the street.”  I seconded the notion but she went anyway.

February of ’10 –

A fair amount of snow has fallen the night before, and we’re getting the boys ready for school when my son looks out the window at all the snow on the ground and says, “It’s a 4-wheel drive kind of day, and I’ve only got 2 feet.”

May of ’10 –

My younger son comes home from a baseball game and goes to change clothes in his room.  A few minutes later he emerges wearing shorts and a t-shirt.   However something doesn’t look quite right so my wife asks, “Are you still wearing your cup?”  He says “No mom, but it sure looks like I am.”

August of ’10 –

We’re in Sterling, Colorado for my wife’s grandmother’s funeral, and we’re out to dinner with aunts, uncles and cousins.  My son asks who’s paying for dinner, and we tell him that dinner is being paid for by great grandma.  He asks, “How?  Did we steal from her?”

And finally . . .

October of ’10 –

My son and I have this conversation:

“Dad did you know that when you look in the dark your pimples get big?  We learned that in science lab.”

“You mean your pupils?”

“Oh yeah, that too.”

You know on second thought maybe these days off from school are okay.

Ode to Spring Kids’ Sports

As parents we do our best to encourage our kids to try different things.  From trying different foods to trying different activities to trying different sports, our job is to make sure our kids give EVERYTHING a chance.  “Try it once” is our motto which ironically will become the only motto we DON’T have for our kids as they get older.  Don’t try drag racing.  And don’t try sex.  And don’t try drugs.  And don’t try cutting class.  And don’t try home-made explosives . . . . . . wait, was that just my parents who said that?  Encouraging our kids to try different things does seem to be age-appropriate.  But since my kids are 11 and 7 I’m still very much trying to encourage them to try everything at least once, and to their credit they have pretty much taken my advice and run with it.

We’ve tried acting in school musicals.  We’ve tried ice hockey.  We’ve tried tackle football.  We’ve tried baseball.  We’ve tried platform tennis.  We’ve tried soccer.  We’ve tried overnight camp.  We’ve tried swim team.  We’ve tried baseball card collecting.  We’ve tried knee boarding.  We’ve tried water skiing.  We’ve tried downhill snow skiing.  We’ve tried golf.  We’ve tried skate boarding.  And we’ve probably tried a few other things that I’ve simply forgotten about.  Most of it has been one-hit wonders where we’ve done it for a season and then moved on (though tackle football lasted one month – Chase decided he liked FOOTBALL, but not TACKLE football – “big difference dad”), but some of it has lasted longer.  In fact as we head into the spring sport season we’re gearing up for both travel soccer for Jack and house league baseball for both Chase and Jack.  And this is right around the time that I’m starting to regret the whole “try everything” motto as it simply leads to more work and more chaos for my wife and me.

Travel soccer requires no less than two practices a week AND a “training session.”  I still don’t really know the difference between a practice and a training session, but they have both.  Then at least one game which is often times in some other town or city.  There’s both a home and away jersey and we’ve lost both already (played a home game in a black San Jose Sharks t-shirt because the home jersey was M.I.A.).  To make matters worse they have indoor practice every Monday night during the winter which means we’re carpooling either to or from practice on Monday which means I have to spend time in the car with my youngest son and his best pal Grant who came up with this last night:

Grant – Hey Jack I think we could have lived with the dinosaurs.

Jack – Really?  Where would we live?

Grant – In a fort made out of big boulders.

Jack – Well what would we eat?

Grant – Baby dinosaurs.

Jack – How would we catch them?

Grant – We would make a knife and then hunt for them.

Jack – What would we use for bait?

Grant – Girls.

Jack – Why girls?

Grant – Because girls have boobs, and dinosaurs like boobs. 

I can’t decide whether I want to volunteer to carpool to AND from soccer or never again.

Then there’s baseball.  Now I love baseball.  Played it as a kid.  Wish I were still playing it now.  Both my boys play it and no doubt as they get older and better the games are getting more and more fun for me to watch. In fact I’m going to be an assistant coach on Chase’s team this year.  Very excited.  But dear Lord it can be brutal, and I’m not even talking about the tryouts where they herd these kids into a gym and have them swing at wiffle balls thrown to them by 8^th graders who are throwing from their knees (literally I’m not sure Derek Jeter would look good swinging an aluminum baseball bat at wiffle balls that are coming across the plate about a foot off the ground – it’s painful to watch).  No I’m talking about the practices and the white baseball pants that seem to be COVERED in dirt and mud within an hour after the boys put them on.  I’ve actually decided that baseball pants are like those invisible marker pages. . . you know the ones where you have a blank page until you use the “special marker” which then reveals designs and letters and colors that weren’t there just moments before. . . . yeah that’s like baseball pants.  Totally clean one minute and then filthy the next. 

We’ve yet to finish the season with the same baseball hat that we were given to start the season.  Last year my son Jack finished his season with a Chicago Wolves hat.  My son Chase finished his season with a Chicago White Sox hat.  We have one team picture that shows Jack in a different pair of baseball socks.  THE UNIFORM, INCLUDING THE SOCKS, WERE ISSUED ON THE DAY OF THE PICTURES!!!!!  WE LOST THE SOCKS ALMOST IMMEDIATELY!!!!!  HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN!?!?!?!!?

But we will be there for every game and even most practices because we are doing our best to be encouraging and supportive parents (although not always successfully).  This means that we won’t see each other or have dinner together as a family for three months, as we split up to watch one baseball game or coach one practice (Kirsten won’t be coaching, though).  And the weather in Chicago in the Spring usually doesn’t cooperate.  So we will freeze through often painfully long games.  My wife has showed up in moon boots, parka, hat and covered herself in a blanket to make it through some of the games. 

The moral of the story . . . .  be careful what you preach.  Especially to your kids.  It  sometimes bites you in the ass.  And you have to smile while it’s biting you.