Silly Things

Sometimes, it's the silliest things that can make me nostalgic. Take, for instance, this shower head. It finally gave up the ghost and I'm pretty sad about it. You see, I bought that shower head when the kids were little. With three kids as close in age as mine are, it was far easier to line them up in the bathtub and hose them off with the shower head than to draw baths for them.

I bought this wonderful Waterpik in 1996 and it has moved with me ever since. No matter how many moves the kids and I made, the first thing I did was remove the old shower head and replace it with this. When we moved out, I simply put the original back on and the landlords were none the wiser for it.

Even after the kids moved out and Jay and I moved to Small Town, Colorado, the shower head moved with me.

I replaced it Friday with a new one that I already hate and I haven't even used it yet. I went with an economical version, but in installing it I realized it wasn't going to cut it. I'll use it, but only until I can buy a real Waterpik to replace it with. I should have just dished out the money in the first place instead of being a cheap ass.

In the meantime, I'll mourn the loss of the one item I've carried with me since the kids were babies.

30 Days of Memories: Day 19

I've only made the kids do a family Halloween costume once, but it was the cutest Halloween ever. Since we had the Best Dog in the World, Jakers, and Jake was a Dalmatian, I just had to have my own fire brigade for Halloween.

Mom sewed the turnout coats (this was long before you could buy a fighterfighter's costume) and I made the breathing apparatus. I took 2 liter bottles and painted them, ran an oxygen hose from the bottom of the "tank" to a mask, and fashioned a harness for their tanks. Black gloves, plastic fire helmets, and snow boots completed the costumes for the kids.

Jakers, however, had to have his own costume. I made a drape for him to wear and turned our little red wagon into a fire engine, complete with a flashing bubble light. I knew the kids would get tired while Trick-or-Treating, so having the wagon was a stroke of genius on my part, if I do say so myself. I tried to make a harness for Jake to pull the wagon, but that was a pain in the butt, so I settled for walking Jake with one hand and dragging the wagon with the other.

Corralling Jake and three squirmy kids for a picture was next to impossible, so I plopped the kids down on the couch after we got back from Trick-or-Treating and snapped a quick picture. As you can tell, they were over the whole thing and just wanted to eat their damn candy.

30 Days of Memories: Day 18

Back when the kids were little soccer players.

I miss those days, hectic as they were. I'm pretty much the most obnoxious sports mom on the planet. Not one of the ones who doesn't understand the game, but yells at the kids/coach/ref anyway. Nope, when I yelled at the ref, it was justified. I knew the rule book pretty well.

I coached Digger's team for a few years and my team is all "growed up", but they still all call me "Coach". We had a lot of fun for those few years. We weren't the best team in the league, but we were by far not the worst. I'm proud of the boys - they worked hard and grasped the concept of the game much better than many of the other teams in the league. The teams who were better than us were the ones who were being groomed for the competitive travel teams, while we were playing for fun. Hall and I hosted a "parents vs kids" game every season, and Hall would bring a variety of his jerseys for the kids to choose from to wear. The kids always looked forward to kicking their parents' butts. At first, the parents would "go easy" on the boys, but the boys quickly showed them that unless they wanted slaughtered, the parents better step up their game. Great memories.

Before soccer, Ashinator was such a girly girl. She would cry over anything. Total emotional and physical wimp. Enter soccer. Holy cow, what a change. I remember one game where she got cleated in the stomach. If it had been me, I would have pulled myself from the game. I mean, I'm tough, but I'm not "cleat marks on my gut" tough. Ashinator pulled up her shirt, looked at the bright red marks on her stomach and kept going. That's when I knew she'd be okay. She found her inner toughness. She's still pretty sensitive, but in a good way now.

Monster was a natural with a soccer ball. While the other kids on his team were still trying to figure out how to pass the ball correctly, Monster was juking the opponents right and left. He's a natural forward. He switched his passion from soccer to skateboarding and I was heartbroken. He's amazing with a skateboard, but to see a little three year-old with the soccer skills he had was breath-taking. I won't lie, I had dreams of soccer scholarships.