I Need to Learn Another Language

The other day I was at my daughter's basketball and I saw a friend of mine there watching her daughter who was on the opposing team.  I really like to have fun social experiences with friends, but I think it's awkward when your daughters are playing against each other.  I should say awkward when there is at least one competitive person (me) who is trying to act like I'm not competitive at all.  I don't know if I pulled it off.  For example, I was probably a little too enthusiastic about her daughter making baskets.  I clapped and smiled and looked at my friend to make sure she knew I was clapping.  The score was too close for comfort for me at one point.  And then after half time, we pulled way ahead.  I noticed there wasn't a lot of conversation going on between me and my friend.  But she did make a comment that our team has some very strong personalities amongst our parents.  There is one dad in particular, who is very vocal, even at practice, and he happened to be sitting right behind her.  But I got self conscious and basically wanted to prove that we weren't one of "strong personalities."  When my husband would yell some advice out to my daughter, like, "Who are you guarding?  Find your person!"  I was like, "Lighten up dude!  It's just a game!  As long as she's having fun…and stuff" and then I looked at my friend and smiled, to reassure her that I don't care what happens in this game.  But I'm secretly totally on board with my hubby.  This is when I realized that I needed to learn another language.  Then I can communicate to my basketball player what I'm really thinking, while pretending to be a chill, easy going, sports parent.  For example, I could yell, "Deplacer!!" with a huge smile, while holding a sign that says, "Just as long as you're having fun!  Everyone's a winner!"  But before the game, I'll teach Susie that "Deplacer!!" is French for "Move!!" And I'm pretty sure I'll get away with it, because I don't know anyone here who speaks French.  

On another note, I mentioned to my friend that we have a set of triplets on the team, which is always good material for an interesting conversation.  But her response was like, "Oh…."  and then I thought, "Now what do I say?"   I know!  I'll ask her if she's a triplet… That could break the ice a little.  Or at least it would distract her from the fact that I was thinking, "I hope we win this game by 100 points!!"

Delusional

I think I'm a little delusional.  For example, sometimes I think I'm still really young and then I find myself  driving home from the store and I feel like I want to pull over and take a nap, because I'm too tired to drive 10 more minutes. That is a moment I realize I'm not so young.  Or I'll be having a conversation with someone about age and I'll ask them to guess mine, and they guess my age right on the dot.   I hate that.  I don't even accept when they take two years off of my age.  Not acceptable.  I want 7 or more years off, or the conversation wasn't even worth it.  I'm also delusional about my agility and gymnastics skills.  But then my two year old came up to me and asked me to help her do a "handspring."  So I picked up that little two year old body and flipped her around and she said, "Thanks Mom."  And I'm thinking, "Anytime, that's what I do! I flip kids around, because I'm young and agile."  And then she said, "Can you do a handspring?"  And I said, "yes" and did my version of a "handspring."  Then she sweetly responded, "You can't?!  I help you!"  And in my mind, I'm like, "I just did one!"  But it's cool.  

Being delusional is kind of sweet.  It gives us a moment of peace, confidence, whatever…until reality hits us.  But we don't need reality hitting us all the time.  We just need it sometimes.  I'll never forget being in a math class in college, and we got our graded tests back and the girl in front of me totally flunked the test, and she said, "I thought I did well on this test."  And I was like, "How could you have thought you did well when you flunked?!" (didn't say it out loud).  I would understand if she had gotten a C and said, "I thought I would at least get a B."  But then I have to think, "What a great attitude she had!"  And she had, like, two days where she was excited about doing well on a test.  That's better than taking the test, being sad about doing a poor job and then getting the test back and remembering you did a poor job.  Who am I to mock her delusional thinking?  We could all use a little delusional thinking once in a while.

So today, I will be delusional:  I am young, and not tired.  I am a gorgeous!  I am brilliant!  I am confident!  And I'll let you know if reality tells me something different.

Classy Trash

Today, I was throwing a birthday party for my daughter.  It’s good for me to host things at my house every once in awhile because it whips me into shape, and I clean my house really well, and I put picture frames on the wall, and I buy a couch for people to sit on, and my kids wear stuff other than PJs for a minute, etc.  So today, before the party I was tidying up the front lawn.  There were a few bits of garbage and items that didn’t belong on a nice front lawn.  I noticed how much rubbish there was (I like to say big words like “rubbish” right before hosting a party, so I can be prepared to sound smart).  And as I’m picking it up, I’m thinking how all this rubbish doesn’t look very classy, so really, it’s a good thing I’m picking it up.  Then I saw a piece of dental floss on our patio, and I was like, “Wait!  Do I remove this?  Because, sure, it belongs in the garbage, but what does it say about us?  It says that we floss and we don’t just casually floss, we floss so much that it even ends up on our front porch sometimes.  How much classier can we be?!  Not much!"  So I concluded that there is such thing as classy trash.  But I threw it away and I just hope that people feel the classy vibe.  And I kind of regret throwing that piece of floss away.  But I am not digging that out of the trash.  I don’t care how much classy trash is in there.