Mom of a Goalie

My oldest son has decided he wants to be a goalie full-time, so now I am officially the mom of a goalie.  And let me tell you, it's a lot harder than being the mom of a player.  That's my experience, anyway, having had it both ways.  Whenever a goal is scored, other parents look at you.  They don't look at the parent of the kid who didn't challenge the opposing player on the breakaway who scored the goal.  They look at you.

And it's much more nervewracking to be the mom of a goalie.  I'm basically a basket case.  It has got to get easier.  Tell me it gets easier!  Sometimes I literally can't watch the game.  I have to restrain myself from yelling, "Protect the goalie!"  And: "Where's the D?"  (Notice the hockey lingo I just toss out so casually now.)  I do yell things like, "Go, go, go!"  And: "Get it, get it, get it!"  (I'm pretty articulate.)

Maybe other mothers handle it better than I do.  But I remember a parent one year whose son was goalie for a game, and the score was 10 - 0 against his son.  I saw his face at the end of the game and he looked ill.  He passed a hand over his forehead and said he needed to go home and have a drink.  I completely understand his reaction.

I think every hockey parent should have a child who plays goalie.  Just once, so they can see what it's like.  And to have their child get shelled, so they can develop some empathy.

Maybe then we wouldn't have parents still cheering loudly and obnoxiously when their team is already winning 7 - 0.

Maybe we wouldn't have parents who jump up and run down to the glass and pound on it when their child gets a goal.

I'm all about cheering for the team, and the players.  But even when we're winning now, I stop cheering if the lead gets too large.  It's about sportsmanship, and not running up a score.  What does that teach the kids?  A win is a win; does it have to be a massacre?  And I think about the other goalie, and the other goalie's mom.  And I cheer for both sides.  A good save is a good save, and a good play is a good play.  Did I mention we're playing in houseleague, and not the NHL?

Today was very stressful because not only was it a playoff game for my son, but then he was called up at the last minute to play goal for an older league.  When he was on the ice with the older and literally sky-high boys, he was honestly half their height.  He looked like a midget.  I have never wanted to swoop down and lift him up and take him away with me more than I did at that moment.  He just looked so small.  Thankfully he's a laid-back kid and he doesn't seem to get stressed out at all.

I'm very proud of my son and I think he's an amazing goalie.  I'm glad he has found his niche and I think hockey is a beautiful game.  And now I need to go on a nice long run to try and relax! 

Fun with the Flu!

All three of my children have just suffered through the flu.  And of course they didn't have it simultaneously; it was week after week after week.  I'm still suffering from sleep deprivation.  (I don't know how I did it when they were babies.  It was years of a big hazy blur in which my two main thoughts were: 'They're so adorable' and 'I'm so tired!')  Of course you want to be there for them so I would sleep beside them at their request. And then you're up taking temperatures and giving medicine and providing Kleenex and drinks of water.  And making soup and tea and giving crackers.  My daughter would be sitting on the couch, a miserable dripping mess, surrounded by piles of Kleenex higher than her head and still sniffling and looking pathetic.

It's funny how it changes your perspective, though.  I was particularly worried about my son because his cough sounded so horrible, and he didn't look good.  His colour was off and his eyes looked a bit glittery and he wasn't himself at all.  He would lie on the couch wrapped in a blanket.  This is my rough and tumble boy.  The boy who is never, ever, ever tired out.  The one who has so much energy he could power the whole neighbourhood!

One day he started acting out a little.  I was reading to him in bed and he started turning the light off and on even though I told him not to.  He wasn't listening to me.  Hmmm.  I started feeling cautiously hopeful.  Then he was fooling around and he fell off the bed.  Also he started making silly jokes.  It was undeniable.  He was better!  I was SO happy!  Finally he was back to his old self.  It felt fabulous.  Bring on the misbehaviour!

And I knew my four year old daughter was back to her old self when my husband started tickling her, and she responded in a way that just didn't seem to go with her glittery pink dress and her cute little ponytails tied with purple ribbon.  She instantly assumed an MMA fighting stance and yelled, "BRING IT ON, DADDY!"   My husband shot me a surprised look, but he kept tickling her.  Then she yelled even louder: "I'm going to take you DOWN!"

Ah, the joy of having older brothers!

Tree Growing Out of the Escarpment

I love these pictures of a tree growing right out of the rock of the escarpment.  The roots cling to and snake over and through the rock.  It's amazing.  I think it proves the saying: 'Grow where you are planted.'

You Have Messed Up My Entire Life!

My boys were, as usual, arguing.  One of them complained that his brother had just messed something up for him.

The other shot back, "Oh yeah?  Well, YOU have messed up MY ENTIRE LIFE!"

He really took it to the next level with that statement.  Talk about upping the ante!

And then, ten minutes later, they were sitting on the couch with their arms around each other. 

This love/hate thing is really hard on parents.  Sometimes I put them in their rooms for fighting and before they are even done their time-out, they have forgiven each other and are scheming about what to play next.  They have forgiven each other even before I've forgiven them for fighting!

I tell them we love them exactly the same, completely equally; that they are different but our love is the same.

I know there is love there, somewhere...deep, deep down inside.  Really deep.  Sometimes hard to find.  But there...right?

Those Crazy Gummy Bears!

My daughter was watching the 'I Am A Gummy Bear' song on Youtube.  Her brothers had introduced it to her. 

I would think most parents have heard it by now.  It's a catchy little song and the gummy bear dances and kids love to watch it.  At one point the gummy bear does something that is a bit questionable, and my daughter said to me, 'That's inappropriate, isn't it, Mommy?'  (Let's call it 'booty shaking'.  And I for one do not have children who EVER do this.  Not once.  I barely understand the meaning of the term.)

She learned the word 'inappropriate' very early.  I'm just speculating, of course, but this may, again, have had something to do with her big brothers who seem to take particular delight in anything deemed inappropriate in any way, shape or form.  Anyway, I told her that she was right. 

She paused to think, and then said thoughtfully, "I guess that gummy bear doesn't have a mommy or daddy then!"

It was nice of her to equate someone being inappropriate with not having parents, but if that's true, then...I am in big trouble!  (Did you hear that, boys?)

Do I Look Like A Paper Towel To You?

 Is it just my kids who do this?  My children will go to hug me, but really they are wiping their mouths or noses on me.  It's yummy.

I will think they're being so sweet and then I will realize they're just using me as a big Handi-Wipe.

It was bad enough when they were babies, and my shoulder constantly had dribbles of milk on it.  (Sometimes it was on the front of my shirt too, which was very attractive.)

I thought it would get better.

Now, they also wipe their sticky hands on my clothes and my arms.  I really appreciate this, let me tell you.  As I scrub off chocolate or a variety of food residue, I feel all warm and fuzzy.  And adding to the enormous pile of laundry I always have just makes me feel - oh, I don't know - content.

I'm glad they feel comfortable with me and everything, but a line has to be drawn.  Boundaries must be established!  I love them all dearly, but how hard is it to grab a napkin?

Another thing I never thought I would say as a parent: 'Do I look like a paper towel to you?'

No One Said It Would Be Easy ('No One Said It Would Be So Hard' - thank you, Coldplay)

"It's lucky for you that I have more things to do in the morning than you do,"  my son remarked casually, after complaining that he has to feed our cat.

I fell over in shock.  At least, I think I fell over, but I was in too much shock to be certain.

I guess this is where the egocentricity thing comes in with children.  I opened my mouth but it took awhile for the words to march out, because they were in shock too.

I finally stammered, "You get up, eat the breakfast I make for you, put on the clothes I have washed for you and set out for you, pack the lunch I have made for you and the agenda I have signed for you, which may or may not contain cheques I have signed for the school as well as forms I have had to fill out."  And that's only for one hour in the morning!  And you're only one of my children!

It's too bad that as humans we have to make the same mistakes over and over.  I know that's how we learn.

But I'm having the same arguments and issues with my children that I remember my parents having with me.  The 'Who left the apple core on the table?'  The 'How can you walk by the stuff to go up the stairs?'  The 'Stop leaving your laundry on the floor!'  (Oh, sorry, that's my husband.) 

Full disclosure: I leave my laundry on the floor too.  I've decided that if I can't beat them I'll join them.  Works great for the whole house atmosphere thing, but that's another post.

And it's funny, because as I'm telling my children all these things I'm also forgiving them, because I remember I did it too and I didn't mean anything by it; I was still just focused on having fun and learning and I didn't mean to annoy my parents.  But as parents we still have to teach our children.  We don't want them to grow up and be uncivilized.

I'd like my childrens' partners to appreciate their manners at some point.

Some days I am not entirely certain that will ever happen.  But I keep trying.  That's all we can do, right? 

And you hold onto those small moments.  Like the other night when I had washed all the makeup off my face and I just had my nightie on, and my son looked at me and said, "Mom, you look beautiful."

Thank you, honey.  I needed that.  (His partner will LOVE me!)