Sports to the non-sports-minded

I confess. I do not get sports. I do understand winning (as anyone in an argument with me will find out right quick!). But let's face it. A career in sports is just not gonna be available for a whole lotta kids. But a whole lotta kids, a whole lotta parents, and a whole lotta coaches sure to seem to think so!

JoJo decided she wanted to play soccer this year. Stunned her father and I because she's not really a try-something-new kind of gal. But soccer involves a lot of running and her little friend Claire was going to do it with her. Figured she'd get a lot of exercise and get some girl-bonding at the same time (and Mom wouldn't have to figure out "something to doooooooo"). In Georgia, 8th graders can play up on the JV team for the school in their attendance zone. Our high school didn't have enough girls interested for both a varsity and JV team so the coaches asked J and C to talk to their friends. I still don't know how they did it. 8th grade girls are notorious for not liking to exercise, look dumb, or exert themselves in anyway. But they found six other friends to try out. So every day for the past two months has either been a practice or a game.

This is where I have my difficulties. On the team, there were only three girls that had played before. So it's a "young" team both age-wise AND skill-wise. Basic skills are taught, of course, during practice. But putting it all together and becoming a better soccer player? That's where time on the field during a game is needed. But the coach wants to win so he only plays the girls that either get it/semi-get it. But the team is really bad so it really doesn't matter who is on the field, they're gonna lose. But the coach thinks he knows all and doesn't really care about the benchwarmers. But the girls want to play...

Now, again, I am NOT sports-minded at ALL. But it seems to me that if you want to build a program that will get girls to come out each year (so you don't have to rely on the girls begging and pleading with their friends to join), if you want to instill a love and passion for the game, if you want to have an actual TEAM, you've got to give everyone some playing time. You've got girls that didn't want to be on the team in the first place but got talked into it. They've paid their fee. They've put in the time on the practice field and now? They are freezing on the side of the field on the bench being told time after time that they aren't good enough. And just in case they didn't know? They've got the coach yelling, "I know you are on the bench! You see that team on the field? They are the ones who made a goal!"

But then I don't know much about sports...

Victim or bad choice maker?

So I'm going to rant. Because I can. I'm tired. I'm overweight and I have a stye-booger (okay, that's a little dramatic, it's a scab from all the stye-mess. But it feels like a booger and it's my blog.).  I'm also waiting on a laptop to finish a diagnostic test so I can't really walk away from my desk.

I admit it...I love to play the victim. I have been a frequent guest on the Why Me? show in this game of life. I have blamed other people for my own mistakes and I have talked badly about people who piss me off. But I realize when I'm doing it that I am in the wrong. In my heart of hearts, I know I'm being a complete idiot with major immature tendancies. But this is about those who habitually make poor decisions and then when the consequences arise...whine, fuss, fume and blame others for how "hurt" they are and how "bad" their life is and how they "don't deserve it."

Here's some tough love. When you choose to hang out with selfish people who only care about you for what you will supply for them. When you choose to do drugs and drink alcohol and walk around in a drunken/high stupor. When you choose to have reckless sex. When you choose to spend money on drugs and stupid things instead of your bills. When you choose to talk badly about people who have gone out of their way to support you emotionally, physically, spiritually, and financially. When you lie, cheat and steal? You don't get to play the victim card when life happens. Sorry. Also, when you make all the above choices? You don't get to wallow in the "I always get hurt" pond. You get hurt because you make stupid decisions.

Don't like the consequences? Don't make that choice! Don't like what I'm saying? Tough! I don't always like having to deal with the consequences of my decisions, either. But if you are gonna decide you are old enough to make the kind of choices that you are making? You better man up (or woman up) and deal with your life instead of blaming it on everyone else.

Listen. I know life is hard. It isn't always fair. Sometimes it downright sucks. Sometimes even if you make every perfect decision there is, life bites. Those people that say, "attitude is everything" are right (dang it). It really all boils down to that.

To be healthy or not to be...

Okay, so I have managed to gain back all 20 lbs I lost last year…and then some. So I tell myself that I’m going to buckle down and get back on the Get Healthy Bandwagon over Spring Break, which is next week. Then I realized how waiting until last week is just so very silly. Why can’t I start now? So I bring my little Lean Cuisine meal with me to work and I healthily eat that with my Diet Dr. Pepper (getting off caffeine is on the to-do list, but not a top priority). Then I realize that I’m still a wee bit hungry so what do I do? I go to the snack machine and grab not only a bag of Chex Mix but a Snicker bar and chow down!

 

Seriously?! I’m my own worst enemy!!

The Great Stye Adventure

Last Friday I got that "feeling" in my eye. I could see the pinky puffiness and thought, "Crap, I've got a stye." But this wasn't my first time in the stye rodeo. They arrive, unwanted and disgusting. I put hot compresses on them, they burst and go away. Not to be this time. I didn't have just one, I had four (yes, as in 1-2-3-4) styes on my upper right eyelid. One was under the lid. So no makeup on Saturday and Sunday for church. I only got one, "are you feeling well" comment at church, which is surprising as without eyemake up I resemble a squinky-eyed mole. But I digress.

I posted my issue on Facebook on Sunday and got the warm/hot compress comment and then also got the suggestion to use warm teabags as the tannic acid helps. Monday I woke up with something the size of a pencil eraser in the tear duct area of my eye. My eye was swollen half-shut. This girl? Called in sick! Kenny told me I had to see a doctor and I agreed. But, being me, I went back to sleep to enjoy my day off a bit...even with an eye that felt like sandpaper scratching it with every blink. When I woke up the Walgreen's Take Care Clinics around me were already at 1-2 hour waits and my primary doctor (who only sees patients in the mornings now) was no help. But then a thought crossed my mind. The stye is in my eye. Maybe my eye doctor can do something?! (I know, I know, kind of a duh moment.) I called and my awesome friend Angie answered the phone. She said to come on in!

Little did I know. She used a needle/scalpel instrument to cut about 7-8 drainholes in my eye. So disgusting. However, I did NOT throw up on her and I did NOT pass out on her. But it was close. I went home and kept the compresses on, massaged my eye and applied antibiotic drops.

Tuesday morning I woke up with a couple styes headed but went to work anyhow. I got the double take as I walked down the hall and people staring/but trying not to stare. My principal came by and asked if I needed to go home. :) So I did!

Today I have one small head and a bunch of dead skin. It's irritating but I look a lot better.

And tomorrow I might even get to wear eye makeup again.

Time to grow up?

I like to think I'm a strong, vibrant woman but that would be a lie and I'm not Humperdink! I'm strong when I shouldn't be and weak when I should be strong. I have opinions on everything, including things I have no business. I tend toward the lazy and letting others make decisions for me, but then complain loud and long about things. I'm 43 years old and I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

I have moments when I rise to the occasion and act like I'm in my 40s, been married for over two decades, have five children and a full-time job. But there are way too many times when I'm a 12-year old girl in maturity, attitude and outlook.

I do wonder how someone is supposed to grow up and act their age. There's no "mature" button and only life lessons. There really ought to be a level monitor so that you can see where you are. Maybe I'm not as immature as I think I am? Maybe others are just waaaaay farther along.

I also wonder how people figure out how to keep their households going. It's all I can do to wash a dish, take out trash, do laundry and put a meal on the table. I wish I had the wherewithal to do the family thing. I hope I haven't screwed up my kids too much and I hope that the stories they tell their kids about Grandma aren't too bad.

I wish I liked to cook. I wish I liked to clean. I wish I liked to exercise. I wish I wasn't uncomfortable around people. I wish my brain worked like it used to.

I wish, I want, I, I, I, I...guess I have a little more growing up to do!

Still on the search for a good night's sleep

Last night was the night of snores (sorry, Hot Potato). I hate to wake the dear man when he's sawing a log because I know his schedule and he is desperate for sleep as well. But one cannot get to sleep with someone snoring in their ear. Last night it was almost enough to get me to go sleep with one of the kids. Almost. I'm a pretty lazy creature.

My snore-stopping procedure of choice is to bounce my body on the bed. This usually produces the Snorer to roll over and cease and desist long enough for me to get to sleep. Once I'm asleep, I'm usually good to go. No such luck last night. The Snorer kept rolling back into sleep position! As he started the snore marathon at 12:40 am...it was a long night.

Tonight he'll head to the Park right after work to do construction on the new concession building again. My plan is to take a full dose of Benadryl, stuff my ear plugs in and keep my fingers crossed. Since I don't have to worry about sleeping through an alarm. This might do the trick.

I wonder if anyone will notice that I'm sleeping with my eyes open at my desk today.

Sleep...

You kind of take for granted how important sleep is. Until, however, you are in your 2nd or 3rd week of having been woken up at 2:30 in the morning and not able to return to sleep. I'm past that point. I don't even remember the last time I've slept all night.

I. Am.Exhausted.

I guess I'll check with my friend Google and see what I can find. It'll probably tell me to exercise. Somehow all my woes are always solved with exercise. I'd really like the solution to be chocolate.