| Buckeyes Make Excellent Gator Bait | | Date Created: Jan 15, 2007, 02:29 PM |
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Can you believe it? As if our trip to Las Vegas and the desert could get ANY better (I was satisfied with the hot bath in the amazing bathtub in our hotel suite), the Gators decided we old and tired parents really deserved a celebration! What a game. I cannot describe the energy of being in the stands for the National Championship Game, but one bitter Buckeye fan in front of me described my cheering energy this way: "Watch out. You're gonna hurt yourself." And so what if I was a little sore in the rotator cuff from all the gator chomps and my throat a little raspy from all the yelling for all those first downs, sacks, and even points after? It was all more wonderful than I could have imagined. My dad gave us an amzing gift in this trip, but he has ruined us--next time the Gators are in an SEC or National Championship game I simply must be there! I know I must sound like a real meathead who is spending too much time watching sports and inculcating hyper-masculine and competitive traits in my boys. But this game was so much more than sports! Believe me, I am amused by the guy-on-guy kisses and butt-patts and annoyed by how every emotionally distant man I know suddenly balls like a baby when there's a story about a player who's Mama died or a team who visits a nursing home. But this game was truly emotional! There were at least three Buckeye fans for every Gator fan. When the Buckeyes ran out on the field the crowd in red was so loud it shook the stadium, and I thought, oh no...But I swear that Gator band played louder than I have ever heard them before and they pounded the drums in a deep loud beat so all the Gators could do our synchronized chomp chomp chomp. And then the Buckeyes ran the KICKOFF back for a touchdown. And I thought, oh no...But the Gators went back on the field wild and jumping up and down full of energy like nothing had happened, and we scored our first series. As the game went on, all the Buckeyes were SHOCKED! Now, I love my Gators and I am obviously thrilled about the victory and the whole experience, but the Buckeyes DO NOT have a sense of humor. I swear they were not so much sad and disappointed as angry. Like they'd been cheated by their own team. They just stood there with their mouths hanging open and the people from the media were following the Gators up and down the side of the field like they just couldn't believe their eyes. It was great to feel the under-dog not just pull it out but completely out-perform their much-lauded opponent and the expectations of even, I think, their own fans. It was so obvious that the Gators had prepared for every moment and every potential scenario of the game. The Buckeyes, I think, just didn't. In the pre-game interviews (which of course we TiVoed and are still watching) the Buckeyes coach said his final words to his guys were to go out there and have fun. As if just playing around they would have no trouble beating the Gators soundly. Please!!! Anyway, the excitement of it all has yet to run out and even though it's old news now I think Will and I are a tad disappointed every time we watch Sports Center or a pro game and nobody mentions the Gator win. Somehow I can't help feeling as if everyone should still be talking about it!
Anyway, enough about the game. I could go on forever! The whole trip was wonderful. We started out in Florida where we dropped the boys off at my parents' house. The morning before we flew out we went fishing in a little pond behind a condo building. We had so much fun! What's better than some big fish stuck in a small pond when you're a little boy with little patience? George was a little uninterested at first. He cried the whole way to the pond, so I decided to appeal to his animal obssession. "But you love animals," I said. "And fish are animals! Let's go see some!" "But fish are sea cweetures!" he cried. "I don't like sea cweetures!" But he soon warmed up once we got there. Only he never did get interested in catching fish. He preferred picking up the minnows out of the bait bucket and "hiding" them inside shells. In his sweet effort to save them from the hook he killed them pretty quick. But that's hard to explain to a three-year-old animal lover: why it's okay to put a hook through its head in order to hook a bigger fish but not okay to hold it lovingly in your hand between two shells. But the sacrificial minnows at least were not wasted. We caught A LOT of fish! Maybe even the same ones a few times over. We really did have fun.
Then Will and I left for the airport in Orlando and didn't look back! I cannot thank enough my parents and my sister Harriette for keeping the boys while we were gone. Keeping the boys as part of our present I know is one of those things that sounds better in the planning stages than when you're actually doing it and you thought you were doing a good thing by letting them have the jungle-shape Eggo waffles only to have to endure the cries from one boy who wants only monkeys, one giraffes, and of course, zebra-boy. That leaves the odd hippo and elephant unwanted and fussed about. And it wasn't even that warm while we were gone, so the pool, boat, and beach were unable to assist. My mom did have motorcycle tricycles that apparently were lifeavers. They rode them in the house, in the driveway, and in the garage when it rained. My sister and her little girl, Elly, stayed with my parents and the boys. I'm so glad the boys got to spend so much time with their cousin! What's so funny is that George is really jealous of Elly! It's so weird because George is notorious for not caring about anything other than animals, movies, and food. He never seems to want attention or affection that much, is happy to play by himself or with his brothers, to play in his room or in the bath or in the car, doesn't care what he wears, and hardly cares what he eats. To him it's just fuel for more playing. But he makes a big production out of snubbing Elly! Harriette is a wonderful sport about it and doesn't take it personally on Elly's behalf. It helps, too, the John loves to love Elly. So much so I worry he's gotten a little too heavy with the French-kissing. But anyway, Harriette said that while we were gone George made a big deal of playing peek-a-boo with Elly and then handing her a toy. "I give Elly a toy!" But then when Elly wanted to get in their "Bughouse" tent, he said something like, "The Bughouse is not for babies, Elly!" His evil plan to distract Elly with undesirable toys was a bust. One food George does love is M&M's. My dad has a jar of them on the table next to his big leather chair. Harriette told me that George got in my dad's chair while he was at work and pretended to be my dad. Then he said, "Would anyone care for an M&M?" Then when my dad was back, George told him to go outside and then George got back in the chair where as "Boop" (what they call my dad) he had free access to the M&M's. That sly little animal!
John continues to be OCD. And don't get mad at me for premature labeling. Believe me, I pray it's only a phase. His tucking-in has become a study in exactness. He is currently on a cowboy kick. He has a cowboy hat and cowboy gloves. These must be on his bed directly below his stack of sanctioned books and must not be shifted or moved or sat on. The felt hat must not be "crushed" at all, not even one little crease or dimple. His blanket must be spread "big", meaning once he has his "string" wrapped just so around his fingers, the rest of the blanket must be spread out in a full rectangle without wrinkles or bunching. The closet door must be open even though there's no light in there. When he's up, he's wearing his vest and gloves which are really too big. And if one of his fingers slips into the wrong hole he stops whatever he is doing, freezes, and calls out in a frantic voice: "Two fingers-two fingers-two fingers-two fingers-two fingers" until someone comes along and fixes it. That boy is a lot of work.
James has been pretty sweet lately. He and John get into some real doozies, because they both have extremely strong opinions and James loves to needle John to the point where John will say, "No talking, James!" James is a huge fan of all things Florida. In fact, we sold our old house (finally!) while we were out west, and when my mom told James, "Momoe and Daddy sold the house!" James said, "And now we can move to Florida?" He naturally loves the Florida Gators and instigates impromptu pep rallies whenever the Gator spirit moves him. At the breakfast table he gets all the brothers chomping and yelling, "Duh-Dunh! Duh-Dunh! Go Gators!" Yesterday he started it up in the car, and when his brothers didn't respond with as much enthusiasm as he thought appropriate, he hollered out, "Hey everybody, can I get some help here? Hey John and George, can I get some help?" He has also been very into his music. The boys got toy guitars for Christmas. Even if you're playing them right, they don't really make the best sound, but James holds it like a natural. He is still frought with his old demons at times, though. He gets frustrated while he's trying to play and squeals, "Can you help me?" And then when you move close to help and reach out he pulls the guitar closer and hunches over it and says, "Don't help me!!!!" Okaaay. One child without issues would be nice! In the car this morning a Pearl Jam song came on and I turned it up and the next thing I knew James was bopping his head and strumming against his car seat straps. What a rocker. He does have rhythm. But not so much when he is playing the drums. Rhythm is not as important as volume and hardness of hitting with percussion instruments. The beat's in the head!
So overall, we are getting back into a routine here. Will let me sleep late Saturday and Sunday mornings and even made homemade waffles for everyone. This morning I didn't want to get up. When Will woke me I was having a dream I was flying. Now who would want to come down from that to put three unwilling boys on a cold potty seat? Don't ask about the potty training. It isn't really going at all. You can lead a boy to the potty, but you can't make him stop pooping in his pants.
I truly want to get on a better schedule for blogging. I will try. After such an amazing trip life at home seems a bit boring, but with the three stooges playing nonstop around here there are bound to be some laughs, head-butts, and misunderstandings worth writing about! |
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