It's Leap Day

I always say that February, despite having the fewest days, feels like the longest month. By the end of February, I am generally so over winter and so ready for spring, I can hardly stand myself.

This year, is no different.

So, having even one extra day to lengthen the month sucks.

On the bright side, we have a friend whose son was born in a leap year, so, he gets to celebrate his fifth birthday despite the fact that he has walked this Earth for twenty years, now. Yay?

Also, the days are getting longer, the weather is getting warmer, and summer is a day closer, despite February's evil plot to drag itself out longer.

You can add a day, February, but you can't stop time! March starts tomorrow!

Booyah!

Dear Mother Nature,

Well done.

Very well done.

Now, don't fuck with my head by calling up a snowstorm tomorrow.

Please and thank you.

Dear Rowdie,

I love you to death, my friend.

Unfortunately, my death is going to be at your hands.

Your hair is triggering my allergies.

My allergies are going to kill me.

So, yeah....your fault.

And, spare me the puppy dog eyes.

My eyes are so gummy, I can't see clearly right now, anyway.

Friday Favorites: Blinged Out

Basketball season is officially in the rearview and baseball starts on Monday. I'm going to miss my basketball bling...

...but I am more than prepared to meet the new season in baseball bling.

Also, I might have a problem with inexpensive costume jewelry. Just sayin'.

On the other hand, well, actually it all goes on the same hand, I do have some nice jewelry as well. Currently, I am loving rose gold, specifically, my rose gold Fossil and Michael Kors watches. I especially like them with bracelets, and, these stacking hoops by Alex and Ani are probably my all-time favorite.

They are super light and match the watches pretty closely.

The best part of each of these pieces was the price; each was on sale at a discount store or discounted on Amazon. I might like the bling, but, not enough to pay retail.

I mean, who does that?

If you say the Kardashians, I will have to cut you.

Don't make me cut you.

Throwback Thursday: Before She Was the Queen

In honor of QB's birthday earlier this week, I am flashing back to her twelth birthday.

The child had been fascinated by the Hooterville ASTRA Club flamingo flockings for years , so, that year, I purchased her a flock of her very own.

I'll never forget how excited she was to see those silly plastic birds magically appear on our lawn, virtually overnight; she was such a cheap date.

Later that day, we finished off her celebration with a sleepover at a local hotel. The girls got to go to a movie (I believe it was Bridge to Terabithia, which, in hindsight, wasn't perhaps the cheeriest choice for a birthday party, but, live and learn, am I right?) and to swim in the hotel pool before heading up to our suite for cake and ice cream bars.

It was a pretty easy party to plan and execute and one that QB still remembers, I'm sure. On the off-chance that she doesn't, however, I am right here to remind her. Also, the picture above features not just QB, but, Katie (far left) and Kaley (second from the right). They're so young! And they're all still friends! And, I get to embarrass ALL of them with pictures from their awkward adolescent years!

This really is the best throwback, evah!

The End of the Road

The boys played their final Varsity basketball game last night. I would dearly love to say that they finally won one, but, alas, no. They finished the season without a single win.

Not surprisingly, the coach announced that he is retiring, so, next year, we will have a new coach. We are all pulling for the job to go to our JV coach, and, given the JV's record (15 wins to 5 losses), we think he is a shoo-in (shoe-in? Who the hell knows? What does that even mean? Where did that saying come from? I am so confused. And, I digress..).

So, high hopes for next year.

I couldn't let the boys end this season on a bitter note, however, so, I did what I always do when I want to cheer them up: I fed them sugary treats.

The cupcakes were well received and, hopefully, took the sting out of the over forty-point loss (we really do need a new coach).

I'll miss watching the boys play. I'll miss the road trips with my friends. I won't miss the smell of sweat and general teenage-boy-aroma emanating from the back seat on the way home from games, but; you take the good with the bad.

Now, on to baseball!

The Teenager No More

When I started blogging, thirteen years ago, my daughter was affectionately known as Baby Girl. Then, simply, The Girl. And, finally, The Teenager.

Tomorrow, The Teenager turns twenty.

TWENTY.

How can that be?

More importantly, where does that leave her moniker on this here blog?

Thankfully, she has a nickname that we use quite frequently around here, and, after getting her approval to use it; she will now be referred to as....

drum roll, please

....Queen B.

QB, for short.

She earned the nickname the day she was crowned Prom Queen, and, you can't mess with perfection, so, no need to go inventing something new.

Tonight, we took her out for an early celebration, after which she blew candles out on her birthday cupcakes (red velvet, naturally) and traveled back to her home, where, tomorrow, she will wake up one year closer to the legal drinking age.

Lord help us all.

A Day in the Life: Basketball Season Edition

Yesterday, we traveled to our last regular season game. The season has been fun, exciting, crazy, and exhausting, with home games almost every Friday night and away games each Saturday. That's two months of rising early, packing coolers, driving through inclement weather, and sitting in cold, drafty gyms on uncomfortable bleacher seats.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

A typical Saturday went something like this:

Up before dawn, generally around five o'clock or so, followed several cups of the strongest coffee I could brew.

Team breakfast. This weekend, it was hosted by the Booster Club President Extraordinaire. Several of the rest of us parents arrived a little before seven to help with the breakfast, but, as with everything else she does, she had it well under control. So, we sat around the table with the boys and did our level best to embarrass our sons. Mission accomplished!

On the road...again. A lot of our away games take place in a cluster of communities located two and a half to three and a half hours away. The drive requires taking the interstate through a winding canyon or a high mountain pass that is prone to falling rocks, so, either way; it can be a harrowing journey. It can also be quite beautiful and, in the right company, a lot of fun. Thankfully, this year, the weather was mostly cooperative and I had the pleasure of carpooling with my fellow Booster Moms, so, the trip was always enjoyable.

Of course, it's all about the kids.

We watch three basketball games-JV boys, Varsity girls, and Varsity boys-this takes about six hours, and, while enjoyable, sometimes requires that we distract ourselves from the numbness creeping into our asses; we generally accomplish that by making inappropriate jokes and taking selfies, as one does.

And, like I said, we watch the kids.

After the games, we have started a tradition of joining together for a meal. The largest number of people we have had so far is fifteen, but we are usually closer to eight or nine. Then, we caravan back to Petticoat Junction (I especially appreciate the convoy line on the rare occasion that I am driving alone; the group usually makes sure to tuck me in the middle so that I am not left alone if something goes wrong. That's friendship right there). We usually arrive home around eleven or so and we are exhausted and ready to hit the hay.

It makes for a long day, but, I had so much fun this season, I won't complain.

We have a post-season game on Tuesday. In light of our not-so-great Varsity record, it will probably be the last game for our Seniors, so I am hoping to be able to take off early from work to make the trip.

If I can't, I'll console myself with memories of the season. Then, it's on to baseball..

Yes.

Another sport. Another dozen road trips.

Bring it!

A Chain Reaction of Suck

Wake up late -------> Burn finger on curling iron in rush to catch up -------> Lose additional time searching for the burn cream -------> Discover that all clean clothing makes you look a) Fat, or b) Frumpy -------> Finally settle on an outfit, discover that top does not conceal bra straps, say fuck it and throw a cardigan on top, resulting in an outfit that makes you look both fat and frumpy -----> Finally settle down with a cup of coffee, just to hear the cat puking up a hairball on your white carpet -----> Leap up to save carpet, spill coffee on outfit and couch.

Is it too late to start over?

Accomplishments of Which I Am Disproportionately Proud

1.  My house is clean. The pet hair tumbleweeds had gotten the upper hand there for a while, so it's nice to see clean floors and hair-free furniture.

2. I cleaned out the fridge last night. That's a chore that was a long time in coming; I unearthed a bunch of desiccated carrots to prove it.

3. The Man-Cub's letterman jacket is finally on order. Again, a chore that should have been accomplished a long time ago. Double thanks to my Mom, who offered to pay for the jacket as a gift to the Cub; he's going to look so handsome, and we are grateful to her for the present.

4. I got caught up on housekeeping chores at work, too. Little things that I have procrastinated about until they felt overwhelming are now firmly under control. That feels pretty good.

5. I did not give into the temptation to eat chocolate today, despite the wicked Demon PMS sitting on my shoulder, urging me to do so.

I May Have a Miniature Problem

And, by a miniature problem, I don't mean a small problem, I mean: I have a problem with miniatures. Specifically, I have a problem with miniature cosmetic products; the hoarding of miniature cosmetic products, to be exact.

I came to this realization while cleaning my bathroom this past weekend (because, what else does one do without a basketball game to drive to for the first weekend in almost two months?); I was in the organizing mode and I decided to take an inventory of all of the minis that I have collected over the past few years.

The inventory was...impressive, in hoarder terms.

I got most of the products from Sephora, utilizing my VIP reward points. If you attempt to do the math behind just how much money one has to spend at Sephora to rack up enough points for this haul, your brain will explode. So, don't do that.

In my defense, I am stocked for life.

Seriously, in the event of the zombie apocalypse, I will still be sporting lush, full lashes and a dewy complexion while hacking my way through the undead with a machete (someone watched The Walking Dead last night).

Also, I hear that minis make excellent stocking stuffers.

Ha,ha,ha,ha,ha!

Like I'm going to part with my stash.

I may be a hoarder, but at least I'm not an amateur.

A Very Vintage Valentine

Today, I went to Neighboring City to take The Teenager shopping for her birthday present (she turns twenty on the 23rd; don't even get me started). Hugh is on his way home from officiating at a regional tournament and the Man-Cub didn't want to go, so, it was just me and the girl.

The fact that today is Valentines Day was made apparent by the number of roses for sale in strange places throughout the mall, including Target and a shoe store, but, The Teenager and I were on a mission that didn't include flowers or chocolates; we were shopping for the elusive Perfect Summer Sandal. The Teenager and her friends are going to Hawaii for Spring Break and sandals were her choice for her birthday.

I did grab a heart-shaped pizza for dinner, lest you think me completely unromantic.

I also participated in our office Valentines exchange last week, despite the fact that I cannot eat any of the candy that I received from my co-workers (Hello, Lent), and, I did pick up gifts for Hugh and the kids, but, honestly, Valentines Day is not the same holiday that it was when I was a kid.

Back then, conversation hearts, carnations, and Valentines hand-made from construction paper and lace doilies, were all it took to make a girl feel special. Yesterday, I helped the Man-Cub purchase a stuffed animal, candy, and balloons for his sweetheart, because, when I suggested conversation hearts and carnations, he looked at me like it might be time to sign the papers at the nut-house.

Sigh.

I had to search the internet for vintage cards, just to make myself feel better. I found a few doozies that made me wonder if the artist's kids rushed to sign that particular paperwork when they got a look at them.

Two-out-of-three cards featuring phallic themes; and we think this generation is messed up.

He Just Needs Some Hornrimmed Glasses

The Man-Cub got a haircut today. Actually, he got them all cut. Like, really cut.

It goes without saying; he looks handsome.

But, he also looks older; more mature.

He looks like someone else I know; someone I miss, everyday.

He refuses to even consider the glasses, but he is proud of the resemblance.

Can't say that I blame him.

Oh, My Heart

I may have mentioned, a time or two, how very awesome I think my son and his teammates are, yes? Well, I'm about to do it, again, so, if hearing a mother brag about how awesome her child is gives you the envy hives, please feel free to click the little X located in the upper right-hand corner of the screen.

I'll give you a sec.

Still with me? Bless your heart.

So, last night, the boys played in a town a little over an hour away. The game was not a close one; we were ahead 71-53 going into the final minutes of the game. The boys had played well and were clearly enjoying themselves, despite two of them managing to bang their heads together during an aggressive play, which resulted in a possible concussion for one and a bloody nose for the other.

Anyway, in that final few minutes, the coach of the opposing team sent a new kid into the fray; the kid had been on the bench the entire game and it eventually became clear to us that he was, in some way, either delayed or handicapped, but, not right away.

As we watched the clock tick down, one of the new kid's teammates put up a shot that was rebounded by the Man-Cub, who casually bounce-passed the ball to...the new kid. Who, took a shot, and, missed.

The shot was then rebounded by another one of our kids, who immediately "accidentally" bounced it back to the new kid, who, took a shot, and... missed.

By now, we had clued into what was happening on the court; so had the spectators from the home team, who, were cheering each time the new kid put up a shot, only to groan with each miss.

On the third rebound by one of our kids, which was again "accidentally" passed to the new kid, my fellow moms and I grasped hands, in solidarity for the new kid, in gratitude for the compassion showed by our boys, and in silent prayer for that fourth shot to finally, finally hit the mark.

And, it did.

The new kid threw his hands up in victory. The crowd came to their feet; their cheers were deafening.

Our boys patted the kid on the back and casually strolled down the court, winding down the last seconds on the clock while their opponents celebrated not their victory, but the victory of a kid who had just made his first basket in a high school basketball game.

Afterwards, when we asked the boys how the whole thing had come about, they merely shrugged and said that they had noticed the kid during warm-ups before the game; when he finally came in to play, they thought he deserved a chance to score.

I love these boys.

I love their parents and their coaches.

I love having had the privilege of watching a selfless act, conducted with such joy and enthusiasm, and I love that it was, according to our boys, no big deal; it was just the right thing to do.

And, for that, I love that I don't feel at all braggy when I say; our boys are awesome.

Because, they are.

We are pretty awesome...

Yes, yes we are.