Veterans Day

Today is a day of remembrance.

Doubly so at my house.

It is Veteran's Day which in the old days meant that you had to write and illustrate a copy of Flander's Fields. Kids don't seem to do that anymore, which I think kind of sucks. Yes. I know that it is a poem about the dead from Great War (WWI) and there are virtually no veterans left from that war, but I always thought the imagery was evocative. The kids also don't seem to have to learn to recite poetry either (but that is another story).

Here it is....

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

The other remembrance in our house today is for my late mother-in-law. Today was her birthday. I will have the girls call my father-in-law later. I am sure he has been to the cemetery today. Ironically, she is buried in his grave at Calverton National Cemetery.

Pack the Gym

Despite Sunday's turmoil, I really did want Sophie to participate in Pack the Gym night. That is our equivalent of homecoming for basketball, except in our case it is the FINAL home game for the 8th graders. It is a big deal. There is a pep rally at school and a pep rally through all the games.

Sophie has played basketball all four of her eligible years. She may only play two minutes most of the time and has sometimes sat on the bench the entire game when coaches forget that they are NOT coaching the NBA, but she was always on the team. When her sister's team was short of players Sophie filled in. Last year, that meant that she was a permanent part of the her sister's 8th grade team. So she has played 6 seasons of basketball, when she has only been eligible for 4 (she played 8 seasons of volleyball too). She deserves the accolades that come with that evening.

I was trying to figure out how to smooth things over with her coach. And then a miracle occurred. My doorbell rang and there was the coach. I invited him in. We sat down and talked.
He told me that he needed her to play. That she is one of the tallest girls on the team and sometimes plays great ball. And she does. Sometimes. I explained that I am my child's advocate. And that I have seen her frustration when she shows up practice after practice to get no playing time. This isn't a travelling team (like she is joining for volleyball). This isn't high school. These are Catholic grade school girls learning about teamwork, some skills and good sportsmanship. And they can't learn that on a team of 8 if three of them aren't really allowed to play.

We agreed that things got out of hand. And we decided to let it go for our daughters.

And so Sophie got her night.

And she played spectacular ball that night and she played in three separate quarters. It was a rough game. It always is against this team. All of the girls looked alive and played well. But I was happy for my Sophie. She deserved a good night.

SNAPPED

I have been going to basketball games this weekend as there was a tournament.

I have come to loathe these things. Because I have to get there early. I have to sit there and be engaged in the game on the off chance girl gets to play. Now these are not high school games where girls might be scouted by college coaches. These are Junior High Games.

There are 8 girls on the team, but five of them play over 90% of the available playing time. The other three (Sophie included) get to share the dribs that remain. Today Sophie played 90 seconds. Yesterday? She played 2 minutes. Why? Well the excuse this week is because she missed Wednesday's practice. And why did she miss Wednesday's practice? Because I didn't check my email from Tuesday afternoon until Wednesday afternoon. And if you don't make practice, you don't play.

Unless.....

You are part of the magic five.

Then those rules don't apply.

But for Sophie? They are ironclad. Which is humiliating for her. And a waste of fucking time, energy and effort for me. Because I am the one coordinating her running around. Driving her. Staying and cheering. Consoling her as she mourned at the end of the game.

It has become a sick routine.

And today I snapped.

I had her there 1/2 hour early like they are told. 10 minutes before the game starts the coach saunters in. And then Sophie sits there. As to M and E.

The team they played today was really, really good. And it was clear by half-time there was no hope of pulling this game out. Yet those five girls played and played. E got to go in for about 2 minutes in the 3rd quarter. Then M got two minutes in the 4. Celia who was with me, looked up at from her phone with two minutes to go in the 4th and said, "Has Sophie played at all?"

And naturally, the answer is no.

So at the end. As the girls are getting brow-beaten for their shitty performance, I walked up and asked if she wanted to go home. Their last game was going to happen in an hour. She said she wanted to stay and I pointed out that there really wasn't much chance of her playing. Which made the coach turn to me and say, "She doesn't come to practice, she doesn't play".

And that made me insane.

Because everyone knows that those rules don't apply to the "A" team. And I pointed that out. And then I called him an asshole for pushing that line of bull.

It was wrong and I am not proud of it. Worst, I embarrassed Sophie who is the innocent victim.

But it is ridiculous that this continues. That this man screams and swears at them during practices and then bullies them endlessly on the court only to leaving them sitting endlessly on the bench.

I am angry and done. This isn't character building. And Sophie staying is pointless.

Irony Is Dead

I think I haven mentioned before that my Father is somewhat to the political right of Attila the Hun. So, it should come as no surprise that he and my Mother love Glenn Beck.

Personally, I think Beck is an over-the-top clown but I have been surprised and disappointed to find members of my family who believe his schtick. I would have thought the girls giggling when my father started talking about teabaggers would have been enough to shame him out of it, but alas, this has not been the case.

For the record, my Father is a "birther" too. The irony of this is amazing as my Dad was born in Honolulu, Oahu in March of 1942. That would be 17 years before Hawaii was a State in the United States. Which technically questions whether my Father is a natural born U.S. citizen. And no, Dad was not born on the Pearl Harbor Naval Base, so he doesn't have this loophole to cling to. Even better? the first time I went to Hawaii, I was tasked with ordering a copy of my Father's birth certificate which he lost over the years. When it arrived I got to see it. It looks identical to the one presented by President of the United States, except of course, it says, Territory of Hawaii instead of State of Hawaii. Yes, my father denies the authenticity of a birth certificate that is virtually identical TO HIS OWN.

Needless to say, I found Jon Stewart's takeoff on Beck's conspiracy insanity HI-Sterical.

Enjoy, in case you missed it.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
The 11/3 Project
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Health Care Crisis

Why do I smell bleach?

I woke up thinking that it was some kind of sign.

A sign to wash the contagion from my sheets.

Then I got downstairs and discovered the mess. (please note the bottle of Chlorox in the background... assume that it was sideways and leaking when I found it.)

Apparently my sweet pooch who remains upstairs hiding in the bathroom at the moment decided to have a temper tantrum.

At least I am not having olfactory hallucinations...

Oh, and taking a cough and cold pill that lasts for 4 hours might get you TO sleep, but it won't keep you there. Tonight? I am going full metal Nyquil! I need to be functional again.

What is wrong with me

Coughing

I keep coughing.

Not constantly. but just enough to wake me up 3-4 times a night. Just enough to interrupt my sleep.

And not the good kind that makes me think that I a making out with Stellan Skarsgaard, like I did over the weekend. Ahh... those were good dreams. though I am still trying to figure out why I went to Stellan when I have seen son, Alex more recently. Plus, I was thinking of going for Halloween with a TrueBlood theme (I wanted to be a maenad, a la Maryann.). More the reason that the thought should have been Alex.

sigh. Scandanavian men rock. at least at the moment.... Like I would really know...

Cough.

Ugh. How do I sleep tonight.

November 3

And I am really tired. I was cooking breakfast before 7am. Getting yelled at by Kevin and the girls, listened to the dog whine and I am not done yet for the day.

Ugh.

I'm consistently inconsistent.

Well there goes that idea.

Sure, 30 days, 30 posts... ooops!

So I forgot day two....

it must have been because I forgot to take my shot of kombucha which really seems to make my brain kick into gear.

I like this variety, though sometimes I make (grow) my own too. But then I am not squeamish about s

omething that looks like a placenta floating in my tea.