Most Improved

My ten year old is playing basketball. We love going to her games and cheering her on. When we signed up, we thought “This will be a nice activity for her.” But she started playing and took off!  She really enjoys it and it turns out that she’s “got game!” So I feel like I need to teach her the “basketball lingo” because if you really want to be a serious basketball player you’ve got to sound like a serious basketball player. Lesson one is you’re no longer a basketball player; you are now a “baller.” Lesson two, you no longer make baskets, you “shoot some hoops.” Lesson three, the person with the whistle is no longer the referee; they are now “Ref.” Lesson four, if a ball goes in the hoop without touching the rim, you don’t say, “That ball didn’t even touch the rim,” you now say, “Swoosh!” Lesson five, you no longer dribble down the court, you “boogie down the court.” Lesson six, the people on your team are no longer your teammates, you refer to them as your “Cool Buddies.” Lesson seven, the person that makes the most baskets in a game is no longer the High Scorer, but is referred to as "The Boot Scootin' Shooter."  If you talk like this, you will be taken seriously in this sport! Trust me, I should know, I played basketball for seven years, and I was mediocre, at best. Which means I had plenty of time sitting on the bench and thinking of good basketball lingo. I know what you’re thinking, “You were mediocre in basketball too?” And the answer is yes. I could title this blog “Mediocre part II” (refer to blog entry from Feb. 8), but that’s just lazy. You’ve got to respect those authors who come up with new titles for their sequels and each book after (Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockinjay). But I don’t know about “Divergent,” “Insurgent,” “Maymurgent,” “Bookburgent,” or whatever they're called. I think she just kept rhyming with that first title and that seems kind of lazy too. You know I’m messin’ Veronica Roth (just in case she follows this blog).

Anyway, I began to wonder about my future in basketball when I was awarded “Most Improved” player twice in a row.  The first time, I was like, “Thanks a lot! I am honored to receive this award!” And the next time I got the same award, I was like “Hey, something fishy is going on around here.” Basketball was kind of hard and the skills didn’t come totally naturally to me.  But not only that, apparently there’s a certain sense of “coolness” that I lacked in basketball too.  For example, my coach and his wife used to make fun of me for clapping every time I made a basket. What was I supposed to do, “Boo, me!!”? No, really, I get it, you’re supposed to look cool and chill, and act like you’re really busy playing basketball and didn’t notice that two points you just contributed.  But to me, it felt very natural to cheer after every basket.  Maybe I could snag myself the “Most Spirited” award at the end of the season with all of that clapping.   Another thing is that my coach used to tell my dad I would be better if I was “more aggressive.” I didn’t understand that. I would yell at people and jump up and down, like a crazy lady, as the other team tried to throw the ball in. I would foul out of games, by recklessly flailing my arms about! That’s totally aggressive! So I would get confused with the comment, “she would be better if she was more aggressive.” But then I got older and wiser and I realized what he really meant. That was his nice way of saying (to my dad), “She would be better, if, she was better.” But it’s cool; he tried to sugar coat it for my dad. He probably also said something like, “But heck, she has improved… from when she was a baby… and couldn’t pick up balls, and stuff, and couldn’t even say the word ‘basketball.’ But now she picks up balls…and, she says the word ‘basketball’ all the time! You should be proud. She sure has improved!”

I guess it’s okay to be mediocre as long as you’re improving!

My Smart Baby

I have a baby who will be two in April.  And it’s fun watching her develop.  She gets cuter and cuter everyday.  She likes to talk.  And one of her things is she likes to sing, “Shake it off” (just those three words from the song).  And whether you are or aren’t a fan of Taylor Swift, it’s just really cute to hear that coming out of a baby’s mouth.  The only problem is that I feel “Shake it off” lacks a little originality on her part.  I mean, yeah, it’s cute, but everyone is over that song.  It’s just not as cool as it was months ago.  I feel like I want to teach her something unique and fresh, something that might surprise people.  Like, I could teach her “Wake me up before you go go” (by WHAM), and I could even teach her the dance routine my friend and I made up (that goes with the song).  Actually, I have no business teaching that dance routine to anyone, because my friend and I took that little number to our elementary school talent show tryouts, and were rejected.   We totally tried out for our talent show (and this is a small school I might add) and they were like, “I don’t think this is the right show for you.  We’re going in a different direction.  But best of luck to you, and come back next year.”  But I was no dummy, I did not come back next year.  But I did make up a new dance routine to "I Think We’re Alone Now" by Tiffany.  But too bad for the “come back next year” judges, because you snooze you lose!

So anyway, my baby says a lot of cute things.  But one of the things she says a lot that’s not so fresh anymore is “Where Daddy go?” “Where (brother’s name) go?” “Where (sister’s name) go?” and this can go on and on.  It’s like, her way of “breaking the ice” in a conversation.  There can be an awkward silence, and she’ll take care of it with “Where______go?” She likes to say “Where Mommy go?” when I’m right next to her, and I’m like “I’m right here.”  And sometimes I wonder if that’s her way of ignoring me.  Like maybe I did something to annoy her and she says, “Where Mommy go?”  right to my face!  Brilliant!  I think a lot more goes on in these minds than we think. 

Come to think of it, how about the other day when I gave her a cup of water and she poured it out on the floor.  What if she really was thinking “The other day I saw a family of mice living under our kitchen table and they looked thirsty, so hopefully they’ll see this” (she’s so kind).  Or what about when she refused to let me put her boots on?  Maybe she meant, “Boots are for sissies!  Give me a mountain and I will climb it barefoot!” (She’s so brave and has such dreams!)  Or what about when she cries when I put her in her crib at night?  Could she mean, “I cry not because of this infant crib, but for the tears that are shed by others who need a warm bed.  Citizens unite!!”  (She’s amazing).  And when I tell people about how much she is developing right now, I bet she’s thinking “Developing, d-e-v-e-l-o-p-i-n-g, developing.” Move over Doogie Howser MD!

Mediocre

Recently my five-year old son and I made a spider craft.  We made a spider on a paper plate using his handprints.  And since Valentines Day is coming up, I put a little heart underneath and at the top, I wrote, “You are Spiderific!”  And I had a realization: That phrase takes all of the awkwardness out of Valentines Day cards.   Instead of having to sort through and decide which friend, or secret crush will get the card that says, “Be Mine” or “You’re My Best Friend” or “Be True,” just draw a picture of a dog, cat, spider, or anything you want to draw and then write “You are_________erific!”  It’s simple, and not awkward, and there’s no commitment.  I think when I was a kid I would have done “You are Mountain-erific,” because back then I liked drawing pictures of mountains.  I even drew one in my journal because I thought I was really good and I wanted to be able to look at it as an adult.  It turns out that it wasn’t very impressive.  But if someone asked me about my talent back then, I was like, “Do you have a pen and a paper, and a mind that’s ready to be blown?!”

Another discovery I had while making this spider craft is that I love to do crafts that are geared toward elementary age students.  And I’m good at them.  And it’s kind of therapeutic for me because here are two things about my personality: 1.  I’m competitive and 2.  I’m mediocre.  And that combination is tricky.  But I’ve figured out how to make it work.  I just have to find simple things to excel at (like children’s crafts), or I have to develop talents that aren’t the typical talents.  So I like to run, but there’s always a better runner, so I like to run on the treadmill, but there’s always, someone who does that too, so I read books on the treadmill while I run, and just in case “The New Girl in Town” comes along and does that too, I’m going to work on flossing my teeth, while I read, and run, all at the same time.  And that’s an extra bonus for me, because my teeth are, unfortunately, not mediocre (it’s a genetic thing).  Then when people who are faster than me start bragging about their running times, I’ll be like, “Meet me ‘after school,’ on the treadmill, bring a book, and I’m not talking about no Cat in The Hat” (and I’ll have floss in my pocket just in case).

But this kind of talk sounds very selfish, so back to spending time with my five-year old.  I appreciate that quality time.  I think he appreciates it too.  But you never know.  The other night he kind of sent me some mixed messages.  My oldest son, (who is twelve), was going to sleep and before going to his room he said, “You’re the best mom ever. I hope if I have a daughter, she grows up to be a mom just like you.”  My five year old was listening and decided to chime in with, “Mom, you’re the best mom ever.  I hope I have a daughter just like you, but, a little bit nicer.”  See what I’m saying about “mediocre?”  I can’t seem to shake it!!