Laying over

I am in the St. Louis airport, in to hour two of a three hour layover.  The only reason I am able to write right now is because of this mom.

They started by playing catch with the tennis ball I brought. Brady told the kid he was not good at catching...then they moved on to cartoons.

The boys did great on the first leg of the trip. Our final destination is Minnesota, because who doesn't want to go there  in February?  We had a large dance team in our first flight, and not to throw out stereotypes, but envision who would be on a competitive dance team from small-town North Carolina, and you probably nailed it.  The good news is that I would not have the loudest children on the plane. The cheers began before we took off. There was a confrontation behind me between a dance mom and a tired passenger. I missed the beginning part, but the dance mom's response was, "I'm sorry I didn't realize someone was sleeping. I'm sorry someone is trying to have just a tinch of fun on this plane. Go back to sleep."

Don't mess with dance moms.

The other excitement occurred when the mom in front of me opened her sippy cup. I got doused (and I'm not overexaggerating) with Apple juice. The air pressure catapulted the liquid over the chair and directly on to my hair, which now has a very different texture than when I started the day.

We had an early lunch at Chilis, where Brady set up a game, Splenda vs Equal. The chicken fingers came before we determined a winner.

We are about an hour away from take-off and I'm praying for some sleeping children. Jackson is trying to get some guy to share his Auntie Anne's pretzel, so off I go!

Edited: I held off pretzel man, but Jackson controlled goldfish lady.

Fashion police

Brady has taught his little brother many things, and I'm thankful for almost all of them.  I watch Jackson interact with kids his age, and I'm happy to report that most of the time, he won't grab toys out of other kids' hands, he is willing to share his toys, he doesn't hit -- these are the landmarks of an agreeable 1-year-old.  Of course, I have to give Jackson credit for this, but I think he takes his cues from his brother, who has shown him a great example. And I can't help but think, knowing Jackson's fiesty spirit, that he may have turned out a little differently with a different kind of brother.

But, it is with a heavy heart that I report Brady appears to have passed down his "quirks" with regards to clothing.  I love a quirky kid, but Brady's quirkiness can be exhausting.  The other night, Eric went upstairs to change Jackson into his pajamas.  Jackson came down wearing a football jersey and Eric came down shaking his head.  Jackson, apparently, was violently resisting the cute footie pajamas, so Eric told him to pick what he wanted to wear.  And so it begins...

I ask Jackson to go grab his shoes whenever we are about to leave.  He always picks the same ones (from a choice of two), and of course, they are the ones I do not prefer.  Try to put the others on and he has a meltdown.

One of Brady's trademarks is layering.  His philosophy: you can't have too many.  Also, wearing pants without shorts underneath is a fashion faux pas.  Three pair of shorts is ideal, although it makes for some bunchy pants.  Fashion has a price.

Below are three examples of pajama options in our house. 

How to layer



Another example in layering.   Notice the color consistencies.  And the hamburger socks.

I'm not sure what look Brady was going for here, but I don't think this outfit had been completed yet.

Another rule: Go big or go home.

And I leave you with this image.  He may cover up under multiple layers each day, but underneath, he is just a cute boy in underwear.  Holding cash.

R-rated rhymes

Snow days are great.  Except that it means you're stuck in the house all day.  And your husband still has to work as usual.  And your kids are afraid of sleds, which their dad bought excitedly, just for the occasion.  And your kids take their shortest nap of the week.  But other than that, great.

Hearty breakfast before embarking on his 10 minute snow experience.

In the seemingly endless day at our house, we read some books, one of Jackson's favorite pastimes.  When he wants to read, he will thrust a book in your lap until you submit, which is what he did with a book that he found on his brother's bookshelf, forgotten until today.  I admit, I will often read books to my kids, only half paying attention to the content (there are some brutal kids books out there).  This one gave me pause.

Its a book of old Nursery Rhymes,  written in simpler times, when things like beating your children was no big deal.  But keep in mind, this was re-printed in 2003, so perhaps some of these rhymes could have been updated?  Not being cocky, but I feel like if you give me a couple glasses of wine, I could knock out a few rhymes of equal or higher caliber.  As you will note in the above picture, the publisher's idea of including a CD was to "encourage children to learn the words."  So here I am, making a conscious effort not to curse in front of my children, to say bottom instead of butt, to tell my kids that I'm "feeling angry" instead of just saying that I'm really pissed, and now you want me to supplement the reading of this book with a CD?  Nah.

Ok, lets start with the least of the evils. 

Lets assume this is written in the Depression, when food was scarce and people just had to deal with rations.  Or perhaps she lived in a bad part of town and her cupboard was raided by thieves.  I don't know what kids are supposed to walk away feeling after reading this.  Like at least Old Mother Hubbard tried to give him something to eat?  Is there a follow-up rhyme that lets us know the dog's fate?  Was animal services contacted?  Again, this rhyme is so mild compared to what follows, but it establishes the overall theme of really depressing stories.

I admit, even I've sung this song to my children, but I'm glad we now get an actual visual as to what is going on here.  No biggie, just an unsupervised baby swinging 10 feet above the solid ground.  I am just thankful the illustrator did not show us the picture of what happened in the latter portion of the song.  CPS was definitely called here.

Ok, this rhyme was good enough for two pages, but I only snapped a picture of the second half.  In the first half, you have the knave (which I had to Google), that stole the tarts which the queen had made.  I'm assuming that "tarts" are a baked good of sorts, hardly a capital offense -- but who is going to question the King of Hearts (who frankly, seems a bit heartless)?  But I'm going to give this rhyme a little credit, because at least you have a clear moral here and the message is as clear as this King's conscious.  Perhaps "beat" could be subbed with a less aggressive word?  But again, I'll defer to the heartless king.

This is wrong on so many levels, but I can appreciate two things: 1) the tact of the illustrator 2) the clear lesson - say your prayers kids!!!  Now, what is wrong: 1) as many times as I read them, the first two lines are very unclear and make absolutely no sense. 2) the second two lines are perfectly clear and leave no room for ambiguity. Which is a problem in itself   3) The fact that he was thrown by the left leg is oddly specific and somehow, makes this worse, if that is possible 4) Ageism seems to be at play here.  Is it because he is an old man that his life means less?  Perhaps he forgot to say his prayers because he was suffering from Alzheimer's. Sadly, we know what a simple fall walking to the toilet can do to the elderly, so is there any question about this man's fate? 

Let's end with an oldie but goody.  For some reason, this one makes me less uncomfortable than the dog that didn't get any food.  Can't we all feel for this old woman?  Firstly, her husband is notably absent.  Secondly, cramped spaces can do crazy things to mothers.  Presumably, the number of kids were her fault, but we didn't we all choose to have our children?  Sure, but does that make the struggle any less real?  Lastly, I guess I just respect the efficiency of the whole evening.  They got dinner (delicious broth), then probably complained because it wasn't accompanied by homemade bread from the bread maker, so the underappreciated old woman did what she needed to do (whipped them soundly), and not 10 minutes later, they are asleep in their own beds.  And they probably don't need to be reminded that they are not to get out of bed until the clock turns green. 

I think the old lady deserves some respect.

Loss of a legend

Coach Smith died last night.  I wish I'd have known him earlier in his life, but its great to hear stories from people who did.  I'm glad Brady got to "meet" him.

A few years ago, I interviewed some people from the 1993 team, and the article is below.

 

 

Members of the 1993 team recall some of their fondest memories and the deep influence Coach Smith had on their lives.

On his attention to detail:

Eric Montross: His preparation was meticulous. He prepared us so thoroughly that I don’t ever remember being in a situation where we didn’t feel like we could succeed with what he told us to do.  He was a master of situations.  You never came out of a huddle wondering if it would work.  You knew it was going to work, it was just a matter of if we’d make the shot.  It’s rare to have that level of trust in a coach and that level of expectation.

Donald Williams: He had us so prepared for games that it seemed like we always knew how the game was going to be played.  We knew about every player and every game situation that might occur in the game.  Mentally, we were so prepared we could coach ourselves out on the court.  That’s how good he was.

Before every game, he’d write stuff on the board and we would go in and read the board on our opponent.  The first game, I didn’t know why it was up there.  When he came in and gave his pregame speech he always stood in front of that board.  Then he’d ask you about a certain player or certain game plan and if you didn’t know, most likely you’d be on that bench.

George Lynch: In practice, he’d say, ‘I asked you to stand here not here.’  He was able to see 10 guys and know if they were in the right spot, whether they were setting a screen.  I remember one practice where Donald Williams called a timeout.  He made the whole team to run because he said that timeouts are his to use and if we did what we should do as a player, we wouldn’t have to use them. 

Henrik Rödl: It seemed like he had answers for any situation on the court.  I never forget the feeling we had in late game situations. With him on the sideline down ten points with five minutes to go, we knew we were winning.

What would set him off:

Brian Reese: If he doesn’t see you giving effort.  For him, there were no days off.

EM: If you didn’t pay attention to detail, he would point it out.  He wouldn’t point it out in a way that was embarrassing, he would point it out in a way that you knew that he knew that you had done something you had known better than. For instance, in practice, Brian Reese would catch the ball on the sideline and his back foot would go out of bounds and he’d say, ‘Brian, don’t they have out of bounds lines in the Bronx?’ He was a big believer in you learning from your mistakes.

DW: Being late. Freshman year I almost got suspended for being late.  Everyone had a time they had to be at games and freshman were first  But I was the only freshman on the team and I didn’t have a car so I’d have to ride with the sophomores, but they wouldn’t have to be there until later.  I’d get in trouble every time for riding with the sophomores. 

GL: We were in Louisville and we checked into an older hotel.  We didn’t pay attention to detail to see if the pillowcases were clean and the beds were comfortable.  Coach Smith came later and when he checked in, it didn’t get his approval rating.  So he woke everybody up and said, ‘This hotel is not good enough for you guys. We can check out now.’ This is at 2 o’clock in the morning.  We said, ‘Naw coach, it’s fine.” We ended up staying there but he wanted us to know that if it wasn’t the best, than it wasn’t good enough for his team.

HR: Laziness

What made him special:

DW: Being away from home from my parents, he was my extended family. He was a father figure to all of us.  Coach Smith cared about you more off the court than he did on the court.  His door was always open and we all went to him with personal problems in our life. He never had opinions about situations.  He just listed to us and was just there for support.

EM: How deeply he cared for society

GL: It wasn’t just lip service with coach smith, but he practiced what he preached.  He knew everything about his players.  I swear, he must have had private investigators on campus.

Favorite Thought-of-the-Day:

EM: When moving a mountain, you must first begin by moving the smallest pebble.

DW: If a dog bites you once, it’s the dog’s fault.  If the dog bites you twice, it’s your fault. 

GL:  You should not criticize a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes.

Derrick Phelps: The tiger never growls after the kill.

HR: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things that can be changed and the wisdom to know the difference.

One word to describe Coach Smith:

EM: Compassionate mentor (not one to be held to a single word)

DW: Loyal

DP: Genius

BR: Friend

HR: Outstanding

 

Daytrip

The boys and I got a late invitation to attend the Louisville game on Saturday, and having an adventurous spirit (and ignoring the fact that I have an awful away-game record), I accepted.  The boys had a blast and were great sports, despite having to skip naptime.  Brady's favorite part was playing basketball on the airplane.  Also, as he told several people, "The plane had food!" Crackers, that is, and unfortunately, Jackson had access to this cracker drawer and would have eaten his weight if given the opportunity.

 

 

 

We had a few hiccups at the game.  As I'm balancing a cheesesteak and bratwurst on my lap,  Jackson got his hand stuck tightly in the cupholder.  It was one of three holes within the cupholder, so we're talking about a pretty small opening and after thrusting my food at a stranger, I eventually managed to pry it free (not without a little pain and blood).  And then he got it stuck about 5 minutes later.  Brady got his foot stuck in the chair a few times, which also required assistance from a stranger, but no lasting damage.  Basically, if you sit by us, you need to be prepared to work. 

 

Jackson was a complete charmer throughout the game, laughing and making friends with everyone around him.  Except when they brought out the milk bottle blimp, which just happened to hover directly over our heads for 5 solid minutes.  He kept waving "bye-bye" at it, but it wouldn't leave.

 

 

 

Brady was also great, especially considering we got there 40 minutes early, didn't leave our seat at halftime, and sat through what felt like the world's longest game (overtime + so many fouls).  After halftime, he asked for his sweatshirt, which I found odd since he generally stays in uniform the whole game.  Then, he gave it to the lady (stranger) behind us.  Because that is what the players do.  I apologized and tried to take it back from her, but Brady grabbed it and handed it back to her, insisting she hold it.  I explained to her that she was playing the role of manager, and, being a good sport, also accepted his water bottle.  This was right before I looked over at Brady to see his underwear showing and shorts halfway down his legs.  "I'm doing it like Kennedy!!" he insisted, and I realized that in fact, when Kennedy tucks in his shirt, his shorts ride very low.  How can I argue with such logic?

 

A quick nap on the ride to the airport at noon held them over, and Jackson went strong until the end of the second half (5:30), and passed out quickly.  Brady literally waited until the last seconds of overtime to give in.  This video is great, except you can hear joyous cheers of the crowd.  And who wouldn't be joyous, after overcoming a 18 point deficit.

 



 



 

 

Basically, he did what we all wanted to do, which was forget the last part of that game happened.