We Have Had Us Some Soccer Games Around These Parts

First of all, there is news to share.

Which reminds me of Steel Magnolias, when Clairee Belcher declares, “Well, you know what they say:  If you don’t have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit by me.”

Except this news?  Well, it’s the nice kind of news.

Because last night?  Well, SOMEONE (and by someone, I mean Thing 2) slept seven and a half hours.

And those seven and a half hours?  Well, they were of the “in a row” variety.

Hubs and I woke up this morning and realized that we’re no longer living as vampires, lurking around with bottles of milk in the darkest hours of the night and squinting in the daylight hours, wondering how badly we’ll sparkle when we leave the house.

This morning we threw open the blinds and embraced the sunshine and said, “Welcome, Day!” because we were well-rested.

(And a well-rested mama is one who doesn’t need any wine.  Nor does she need to crawl beneath the back deck to sneak a smoke, even though SHE HAS NEVER SMOKED A SINGLE CIGARETTE IN THE ENTIRETY  OF HER LONG LIFE.)

But seven and a half hours?  Oh, we can live with that, people.  That’ll do.

In other news, we have had some soccer this week.  It was enough soccer to insure that we were away from our home ALL EVENING LONG last night, but lest you think we stooped to crashing that MAMA’S GONNA COOK HOMEMADE MEALS AT HOME wagon, think again!  I put a roast in the crockpot because I participated in a little thing commonly known as OH WOW!  I MANAGED TO PLAN AHEAD!  And when we got home at dusk, there was roast.

Jimmy John’s keeps calling us, asking us if we’ve moved out of Small Town, because they haven’t seen us in so long.

But the soccer?

Oh my lands!  How fun.  Everyone had some back-to-back games, so we got to watch Sister’s kids, cousins L and K, kick the ball around.

Cousin L is going to be the next Mia Hamm, mark my words.  The girl can seriously RUN.  When it comes to running, she’s right up there with Forrest Gump and Jackie Joyner-Kersee.  Combine all that running ability with some mad soccer skillz, and L is just flat-out fun to watch.

Plus, she’s cute.  And cute is always a bonus.

When L wrapped up her game, we simply stayed put on the grassy hillside and watched little K take the field for a serious soccer battle.

Little H was at the soccer game, too.  She wasn’t so interested in WATCHING the game, but she was powerfully interested in a tall bottle of cold milk.

Which dripped down her chin.

We’ll have the newspaper print this snapshot on her 16th birthday.

Hey, H!  You’ve got a little something on your chin!

(And seriously?  H will never have to wear mascara or lipstick.  Her eyelashes are the blackest black, and her lips are the rosiest red.  I’m not jealous at all.)

(But maybe a little bit.)

Our friend Theresa’s little boy, Robby, plays on K’s soccer team, and she was there with the rest of her kiddos to watch with us.  Theresa’s second son, Drew, warmed my heart last night with his outfit, because there are only so many days in a man’s life when he can pull off turquoise cowboy boots and sweats without having to pay the fashion piper and answer to his fraternity brothers.

I could have pinched Drew a thousand and eight times last night, he was so stinking cute.

Dear Theresa, If those boots aren’t already spoken for, Thing 2 would gladly accept them as a hand-me-down.  I hope that he’ll be able to rock those boots with a pair of sweats as well as your little man can!

And then tonight, because we simply hadn’t had ENOUGH soccer this week, we all piled into the Suburban and went to watch the boy’s game.  He played goalie, and he worked up a sweat.

Of course, finding someone to take care of Thing 2 while I manned the camera wasn’t a difficult task at all.  The boy’s and Thing 2’s cousin, Miss R, stepped up as Chief Babysitter today, while our friend, Tavy, helped out.  Those two girls mothered Thing 2 good and proper and kept the blankets pulled tight around him so that he didn’t die from gasping in the wind.

(Because the wind makes Thing 2 suck his breath in drastically.  He is not a fan.  He gets that from his mother, because I have no idea WHY the good Lord thought it was necessary to even HAVE wind.)

(I enjoy the wind exactly as much as I enjoy a tub of cottage cheese that was left in the trunk of a car for seventeen days in August.)

And that about wraps up our week so far, people.  Soccer, soccer, and more soccer, and we’re still not done, as the boy plays again tomorrow night.

And this is going to wrap up Jedi Mama, Incorporated for the week, too.  Our  Thursday is booked solid tomorrow, from the sun’s rising to the sun’s setting, and I think if I had to focus my attention on just one more thing (like pounding the potatoes out of the computer keyboard to produce a blog post), I’d likely cry in my Kool-Aide.

So we’ll see y’all on Sunday night.  I’m sure that by then I’ll be able to produce a fair amount of run-on sentences like y’all are used to around here.

Have a great end-of-the-week and an even better weekend.

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