It was horrendous. After 2 hours of all of that parental meeting (without refreshments), I had to race home, prepare my mother to drive the girls to dance and then go to my son's lacrosse game an hour away in a far off land called "Medford."
Yes, Medford is in South Jersey. But it is very far away and a completely different culture! Their sport fields are gorgeous! And they play intense heavy metal music in between games and at half-time.
Before we were able to leave for Medford, however, I had to engage in heavy arguing with my 10-year-old about the air temperature. He insisted it was "sunny" and therefore he would not be cold if he was basically nude under his lacrosse gear. The arguing continued straight through the hour drive and in the end, he played while in a bathing suit and full padding and looked freezing the entire time. Whenever he wasn't violently shoving another player or trying to distract them with questions about the music choice over the field speakers or dancing along to that music, he would look over at the sideline at me and attempt to radiate warmth.
His goose bumps and skinny red legs said otherwise.
Why are they like this?
I feel like I ask that a lot. I know someday they will appreciate us and they will repaid with mini, more intense and more challenging versions of themselves. I know there are no guarantees that our children will go to be parents, but I am starting to believe the real reason I want grandchildren is simply because I need my children to understand what they've put me through (and to experience the great love and amazing joy that comes with parenting, of course!).
Anyway, after lacrosse was finished (and I am very proud of him! He's so scrappy and aggressive and a very good dancer! And I love excess talking as a tool of distraction for your enemies! It is a family trait.), I think Mike took us to see a property he is buying for work or something. I was in and out of consciousness (still exhausted from the morning sports parents meeting fire drill and also from the soft pretzel I ate while singing along to "Enter Sandman" by Metallica).
We had a strange pocket of time before we picked up the girls that my mother (who does not do well with new places or multi-lane roads or clocks) dropped off and we were hungry (even after the heavy metal soft pretzel) so we went to get something to eat at a weird time that was neither lunch nor dinner time. Then we picked up the girls, then I came home and passed out in my bed like I was sick or experiencing a great shock.
Anyway, I am awake now. And ready to gear up for my sports parenting duties tomorrow. I have to figure out an outfit that is suitable for worshipping the Lord and Alaska in January. The children are singing at church to glorify the Lord (and make their grandmother stop telling me that we have to go to church more!). Then one child and I will race out of the church to swiftly journey way, way, way down the shore for lacrosse games in 25 degrees oceanside.
It's a DREAM friends.
Hopefully there is good music.