Hmm. It's almost hard to rewind that far.
Friday was field day for the elementary school kids. A good time was had by all.
Little's session was in the afternoon. I almost choked when I saw his hair. Nice, right? I did the green and joked about how he looked like the green Mr. Potato piece. Apparently, that left the sides and back a blank canvas for wild & crazy stripes and polka dots. Gorgeous. He had a ball.
Yep, I'm that mom that takes the little siblings to these optional outdoor events. MOTH even dropped by in the afternoon. Good times, man, good times.
Let's see . . . school got out at 2:30. We pulled off an impromptu play date with some favorite neighborhood friends and I picked the munchkins up just in time to load the car & head to volleyball. Big's team won in two games . . . . 25-8 and 25-12. Beauty. Jason's Deli for dinner. Gawd, I love that place. I'm sure my salad was well over 800 calories on it's own, but I felt the need to live a little. I didn't add cheese. Or bacon. So that was pretty successful, in my book. Home. Showers. TV. Last week's survivor. Yeah.
Saturday . . . . was a lot of waiting around. Hair had to be done. We mostly chilled. And then left for Middle's meet. She was a rock star. It was so fun to watch . . . .
1st on bars.
5th on beam.
4th on floor.
7th on vault.
And 4th all-around.
We had the best hair day yet.
Bars is hard to get good still photographs. Maybe because they aren't still. Add strings on fluorescent lights and no flash photography and you have a recipe for crappy pictures. All of the parent section feels it. We have several good cameras click, click, clicking away through the whole meet to capture just a few really good shots.
Coaches tell the girls over and over to NOT look at scores. Don't look. Don't look.
But we parents look at scores. And when your kid gets robbed, it's kind of hard not to take it personally. This week, her beam routine was spot on. She was a rock. Only two little bobbles and otherwise rock steady, very clean, nice lines and super sharp. But she got robbed.
It was a gut punch to the mother.
Maybe I should follow coaches direction and not watch scores. Still, she took 5th and she (because she was listening to her coaches) didn't know the difference & was just glad to have a medal hanging around her neck.
|I love to see girls on a podium. They really are ALL winners in my mind, but there is something extra sweet about seeing our team girls take 1-2-3. It feels like all those long hours of practice are paying off for them in the emotional arena.|
So . . . . that's the Rocktoberfest summary. By the way, I discovered THE secret to getting Little through four hours of gymnastics meet. Legos, baby. I bought him a brand spankin' new lego set and put it on the kitchen table for him to oogle all week. "At Middle's meet . . . ," I kept telling him. They had barely started the first event and he was under the bleachers building. It took him into the third event. Genius. Mimi, by the way is very happy to watch, flop on the floor, play with her pollies or help keep scores. The little sibling supporters are rock stars, too, when it comes to gymnastics meets.
Being the last session of the night set us up for a really late return to home . . . I packed jammies and by the time MOTH and I had them all in bed, it was time to zonk out.
Today brought our annual "try this one . . . no, this one . . . okay, does this one fit?" session with ski clothes & winter gear. Ugh. That's the word that comes to mind. We ended up sitting pretty though. Everyone needed new boots, but Big moved into skis that we had, Middle is keeping her length and Little went longer. Everyone's set for clothes. Praise be for hand-me-downs. We got all of that taken care of this morning before volleyball. Yeah. Good times, again. With some season rental returns and some credit & a great coupon, we outfitted everyone, including me, for under $200. Sweet.
Do you have this kind of dinner in your house? You empty the fridge and hope like hell that you don't have to put anything back in? That was it. A schmorgassboard sort of supper where everyone gets a little something they want . . . . It's kind of random and I always find myself praying that nobody pukes that night . . . . it would be a dreadful mixture of regurg. But, it was a successful clean-out. Everyone is clean, full, and in bed.
And that's the last 48 hours.