Touched by Jesus

Hannah decided to join rec soccer this spring.  No, it wasn't because she wanted to prepare for trying out for Fall soccer.  No, it wasn't because she wanted some exercise.  No, it wasn't because she wanted to make the 2 days a week at the field turn into 4 days a week for me.  The reason?  Her boyfriend (I'm barfing in my mouth, but we'll talk more on that later) is playing rec.  No, they are not on the same team, silly.  Hannah is too competitive for that.  She wants to beat his team.


Last Tuesday night they had their first game.  


Remember.  My girl is 5'5" or so and weighs about 110?  She is a ninth grader.  A YOUNG ninth grader.  She decided (with my permission) to play in a high school 9-12 coed rec league.  So yes, there are men playing on the team.  Full grown men.


Hannah runs out on the field, which this is good for her on so many levels...she doesn't know ANYONE on her team, she has a great NEW coach...all good things.  Hannah runs out on the field and plays a fine game, she was a little timid, but her team slaughters the other team.  


During the game I notice that one of the boys on the other team is HUGE, has long curly brown hair that has to be contained in a pony tail, and a full grizzly Adams beard.  He truly looks like the Living Bible Caucasian Jesus from the 1980s.


At the end of the match the teams line up to smack hands and say the prerequisite "good game" and a member of the opposing team smacks Hannah's hand.  Hannah runs over to me excitedly and exclaims, "I touched Jesus!  He told me I did a good job!  I touched Jesus!"


Apparently every freshman at school calls the man with the long hair and beard Jesus, and when they do?  He flips them off.

Thumbs Up

My eldest got her first cast today.

It seems that soccer is a little dirtier when you play in high school.

This season?  

Two head injuries. One concussion.  One bruised cheekbone.

One goose egg on her shin.  One knee injury.

Various bruises and cuts.

And one Salter fracture.

Thumbs up!

Her exact words upon arriving home?

"In hindsight I think lime green may have been a poor choice."

Brains AND brawn.

Peanut Gallery

So now that the soccer games have started in our family, the name calling has commenced.  We, David and I, aren't name callers or too juvenile during Hannah's games for some reason, but last week at Bubba's first game, we started up again.


Maybe it's that we need to act like adults, or respectable parental types at high school soccer games, maybe it's because I have a cheat sheet of names/numbers for Hannah's team, but I NEVER call the girls on Hannah's team awful names like last year.


Sam's team?  We only know three of the 15 players.  It's a new team, therefore new names to learn, or make up.  You choose.  At least there wasn't alcohol involved this time.


So...there is "Gigantor," the 6' 200 pound 6th grader; "comb-over" or "hairspray", we use either, the kid with the hair that doesn't move no matter how hard he runs or if he falls; "Ginger," which is a pretty standard nickname; "other Michael," the guy who looks like Bubba's friend Michael, and my standby..."Dude" which encompasses any other child who is on the field that I don't know by name.   Yes, I am the crazy lady on the side of the field yelling, "Down the line, Dude"...."Way to take a shot, Dude"..."What in the heck was that hospital ball, Dude?"


The weather has been so nice, we aren't sitting in the car.  Yet.  So David and I are either on two fields, with two children, texting our fingers off, making snide comments, OR sitting in lawn chairs together, watching Bubba's games being a little loud and obnoxious.  


Say hello when you see us!

Won Three to Zero

Hannah's team won against their rivals this evening 3 to 0!

And, as usual, David and I need to brush up on our whispering skilz, because we

kept a few people in the stands entertained with our snarkey comments.  

Number 2

Today, on the eve of his birthday, Bubba received his soccer jersey for the new Fall rec league season.  After last years horrific "watermelon" jersey we are very thankful that the newest addition to our jersey collection is a subdued camel and navy combo.

When Bubba went to choose his number he was given the choice of 1, 2, 3 or 4 because of sizing and the fact the he is one of the smallest kids on the team being that it is a 6-8th grade league.  Yes, there are post-pubescent hairy boys on his team and it is freaking me out a bit, but I'm trying to adopt more of the "rub some dirt on it" attitude when he gets hurt.  Bubba picked the number 2...which at the time I thought GREAT!  

Hannah is also number 2 so it will be easy for me to root for 

my kids with my Alzheimer's and all.

We arrived home to show David and Hannah the new jersey and 

David chimes in with the inevitable...

"Wow, I didn't expect to have two number 2's in one day!"

Followed by Hannah's well timed...

"I love a good number 2."

Ahh...the potty humor.

I have a feeling this is just the beginning.

Kick It Up A Notch

Tonight we decided to kick it up a notch at the soccer game.  David and I sat in the car and ate our picnic lunch...chicken salad sandwiches and chips...with....wait for it...cocktails.  Did you know that you can buy these frozen pouches of alcoholic drinks at Walmart???

David just reached in the freezer, grabbed a frozen pouch, ripped the top open and consumed his adult Margarita flavored freezer pop.

Did the 5% alcohol help our game banter?  No, but the kid on the other team with the craziest bowl haircut, think Moe, I've ever seen is now dubbed "George" after our favorite Mario Cart course, Mushroom Gorge.

Peanut Gallery

My husband and I are freaks.  We have been sitting (too lazy to get out) in the car to watch Bubba's soccer games lately.  Even when it's sunny and nice!  One of the reasons why we sit in the car is because my husband's mouth cannot be trusted.


To entertain ourselves we make fun of people.  I know it's wrong, oh well.


We make up names for kids on the opposing teams.  It all started last year when this boy with long reddish hair was trying to keep up with the big dogs on the field, making us feel sorry for him.  We started calling him "Cinnamon."  Go cinnamon!  Go cinnamon, go, go cinnamon!  


There has also been "nut sack" named by David because he took one in the nuts during a run in with another player.  "Look, nut sack just scored!  Way to go Nutsack! Way to rebound Nutsack!"


"Transitions" is the kids with the self darkening glasses that was trying to score on the Bubb-ster.  Did I tell you that Bubba has been playing goalie for half a game these days?


These pet names (even when the kid has his name written on the back of his jersey) are the brain child of David, because he always purposefully screws up names just to make us crazy.


Last weekend (during our 3 consecutive games) we had the windows down and were sitting in the car when my darling husband decides to start talking about one of the kids on OUR team.  I give him the "DO NOT TALK" crazy eyes and whisper through gritted teeth that the kid's Mom is sitting in the car next to us with her windows down.  David catches on and  rebounds by finishing his talk about this kid with a "he's doing such a great job and is making progress" mumbo-jumbo.  This woman HAD to know that he was full of crap after listening to our snarkey name calling.

The Sour Smell of Soccer Season

Some families have football, some baseball, but we are a soccer family.  Both kids exclusively play soccer (so far) and today was the start of the spring season.  We love it.  The family falls into a routine and usually plays two nights a week and all morning on Saturday.

Bubba's game started us off this morning, and while his was finishing David and Hannah walked over to her game.  As soon as they left it started to rain, and rain, and rain...and by the time we caught up with them at Hannah's field, David and Hannah jumped in the car to wait and see if she would play.  The thunder prevailed and the game was called, so we went to 5 Guys Burgers and Fries to celebrate the start of the season (and the fact the government did not shut down!).

David and I decided after today's game that Bubba's orange shorts would mysteriously disappear.  While it is very easy to pick him out on the field with the unfortunate jersey color, he doesn't need to accentuate his watermelon jersey with neon orange shorts.  I told him he looked like a highlighter.

Vampires and Soccer

I have been MIA. Sorry. I blame it all on Vampires and Soccer. I started reading New Moon (Stephenie Meyer's sequel to Twilight) and got hooked. I finished New Moon and have now moved on to Eclipse. It is all about the Vampires at my house. H really wanted to read New Moon, she read Twilight, and I wanted to pre-read the others before she started in when we go on vacation.

Soccer Camp started on Monday. Long about January of this year when David lived here without us he registered the kids for this Challenger Sports British Soccer Camp. This program is AWESOME. The coaches are wonderful with the kids and my kids are having a BLAST. The training that these coaches must endure before teaching has got to be extensive...and they play wonderful training games with the kids like "Pac Man" and "Austin Powers." They are tired and happy each afternoon, and the coaches give great "homework" that my kids eat up each night. Homework has been things like "make (an edible) sports drink for your coach," "find facts on your country and bring them in," "make a bracelet for your coach," or "make a t-shirt jersey for your world cup team." We won't mention that each one of the coaches is adorable and has a dreamy British accent.

Since I have known about camp since January you'd think that I would have planned out my week and would have made tons of progress and done a bunch of sewing and stuff. But no. I have frittered away every single day while the kids have been at camp, shopping for beach trip stuff, wandering the library, reading, etc. Now on the eve of my last day of freedom I am asking myself what I have done?