Hey Batter
14 Sep 2010 1 Comment
I have not played softball competitively for…uh, a really long time. Like 15 years. A lifetime. My 16 year-old self cannot even believe I just typed that sentence. I once had dreams of playing for reals, being an ump, I would be playing in leagues until I was 90, of course. Rounding the bases in a wheelchair, whatever, I would be doing it for always. It was just a part of who I was. And then…life got in the way, I guess? That seems lame.
I injured my left knee in college in a skiing accident. After walking on crutches for several weeks and wearing a knee brace, I was too chicken to play anymore, afraid I might get hurt, afraid my knees would be shot and I’d be limping my way into old age. And after I was finally healed, things just…happened. A boyfriend became a husband, babies were born, and the next thing I knew it had been years since I had worn my cleats.
And then one day I signed up to play for a co-ed team at work. I didn’t even really think about it. Of course I would play. Knee? Shmee. I’ve had two kids, I wasn’t afraid of a little knee pain. Plus, I have insurance now. hahaha So last Thursday found me shopping for cleats and batting gloves, and being ridiculously nervous about a game that didn’t matter. Except that it kind of did, to me. I was out to prove something to myself, to my kids, to my husband who had never seen me play. And so I played. I caught, I pitched, I got two hits, I struck out a cocky dude twice, and by the end of the night I was hurting. A lot. But I did it. And I’ll do it again this week and next week and the week after that.
I remembered who I once was, who I thought I would become. I showed my girls, girls can play with boys, don’t be afraid of the ball, Mommy can do it and so can you, if you want to. It felt good.
Things I Will Do When I Am Not Working Eleventy Million Hours per Week
25 Aug 2010 Leave a Comment
in 9-5
- Clean my house. It has been so very sadly neglected.
- Clean The Grannymobile. It is rather pittish.
- (Help) write and mail my kids’ thank-you cards. Three months after the fact. Oops
- Take Lokie to story time
- Volunteer at Arwyn’s school
- MAKE SOMETHING
- Cook a meal or two
- Catch up with friends
- Walk
- Take pictures
What a Way to Make a Living
05 Feb 2010 1 Comment
in 9-5
So, I’m sitting on the couch with my laptop while Lokie sits beside me with a bowl of raisins and watches Sesame Street. I have no idea what I would do without Sesame Street and I never want to find out. She can say Abby, Ernie, Elmo, Cookie and I don’t even feel bad that several of her vocabulary words are cartoon characters. Arwyn learned to count by watching Sesame Street, so if it was good enough for her, it will work for the baby too, right?
Enjoying this time with her while keeping one eye on the clock. One week in to my new working gig and it’s a crazy new world. Run here, run there, drop off kids, pick up kids, laundry, dishes, learn a bunch of new crap, try to remember things that I’ve long ago forgotten, feel like a moron, try to remember who has the kids today so I don’t go to the wrong place to pick them up, pay bills, overdue library books, little sleep, lunch money, packing bags, throw something frozen into the oven and call it dinner, somebody let me off this ride!
It has so many good parts: I’m working! And making money! I’m learning something new every day and no one here thinks of me as a mommy. I’m using my brain for something other than creative ways to sing the alphabet song. But there’s a trade-off, you knew there would be, there always is. I’m so packed-to-the-gills busy my head spins and I don’t know how people do this. I’m not even working full time and in one short week my life has become an insane merry-go-round with no signs of slowing down. I’m stretched thin and I know some things are going to have to bend or give or let go completely. And I’m struggling to make sure that none of the important stuff slips through the cracks.
An Announcement
26 Jan 2010 1 Comment
in 9-5
No, I’m not pregnant. Yes, I’m sure.
It seems this stay-at-home mama just got herself a big ol’ freelance gig. What this means is I have spent several stress-inducing days fielding and making phone calls and sending emails, frantically trying to find care for my girls in one week. Thanks to the wonderful generosity of friends and family, I think we finally have all bases covered, if I can just keep the schedule straight. For the next three months I will be working 5-6 hours per day at the office. This is a huge change for our family and I’m anticipating some growing pains along the way. I start on Monday. Commence freaking out.
