He did it!

Hallelujah! He made the "A" team. I was on pins and needles and obsessively checked the website every fifteen minutes for updates. Once I saw that his number was posted, I started to shake. WHAT? Shake? I think I was one hundred times more nervous about this than Brock was. I had no idea that as a parent I would take on the kid's nerves. And this is just the tip of the iceberg....what happens when we are waiting for SAT scores, college acceptance letters, marriage proposals and birth announcements? I think I will need to be heavily medicated.

Thanks for all the well wishes!

Eyes on Goal.

My son spent the weekend trying out for select soccer.  I know, I know, why put an 11 year old through such stress?  Well, because soccer has become his life.  It's all he wants to do.  If we would let him, he would like to join a professional soccer team tomorrow.  He practically has a soccer ball with him at all times, he would like to use one as a pillow.

The "soccer bug" has definitely caught him. He played on the "B" team last year and has been training for months in hopes of making the "A" team.  His try outs went well....however every time he would make a good play, I would look over at the evaluators, and their backs would be to my son.  I don't know how accurate of a look they got of him.

Tonight, my daughter said, "Mom, I really hope he makes the Blue Team.  He is such a good player that if there was a team even higher than the Blue Team, like a Green Team, he would make that one."   What a loving sister.

Here's a video that Brian put together of the soccer stud's moves.

For once, I would like the cards to fall in his favor.

Everything old is new again.

We are down to one working hand set for our home telephone.....and now it's on its last leg.  This morning Brian and I were discussing purchasing new phones.  My son over heard the conversation and chimed in:

"You know what would be really cool?" he said as he crossed the kitchen floor to the wall, "If we got one of those phones that hangs on the wall and has a really long cord."  

Yes.  Please bring me back to my childhood when I would be tethered to the wall.  I so miss wrapping the cord around my fingers, over-stretching the cord and having it knot.  

That kind of phone would dramatically cut down on my phone calls.  

As long as we are going retro, we could go back to TVs that you have to PHYSICALLY get up and turn the dial.....and if you missed the station you were looking for, you would have to patiently turn the knob again.  

Oh the good ol' days.  Maybe my son is onto something.  Maybe we need old technology to make a come back in order to make us slow down.

Home sweet home.

My daughter spent a good deal of Sunday morning sad, crying and upset at the thought of one day leaving us and going out on her own.  She cried and cried.  It was actually sweet at how much she loves all of us and doesn't want things to ever change.  She even cried at the thought of her brother going away to college.

I'm posting this for two reasons.  One, it was a tender, sweet moment.  One I will always remember.  Two, I want to be able to give her proof in about 5 years (in the thick of teenage times) that at one point, she loved us and wanted to be with us.

That's my boy.

My son is playing in the "majors" of Little League.  It is much more intense then in past years.  They are out to win and learn the in's and out's of the game.

Last night my son was on second base and his teammate hit the ball hard and his third base coach waved him to run to third base and then to home.  Well, my son was rounding third base and the opposing team's third baseman was in the way, so my son didn't touch the base.  Half way between third base and home plate, he realized what he had done and turned back to touch third.  He got stuck on third and wasn't able to make it safely home.

His coach asked him what happened and why did he do that and my son's reply was, "I didn't touch the base and I didn't want to cheat."

I swelled with pride.  A win doesn't feel good if you cheated getting there.