Our family is knee-deep in basketball season, and life seems a little like a permanent full-court press.
I recently heard the line “It’s not the human walk, it’s the human race.” That line seems so appropriate right now, as I find myself racing to one event or practice to another.
Life is hectic, but to tell you the truth, I think I prefer it that way. What am I going to do, sit around and get real work done? Make money? Or maybe watch a television program two consecutive weeks in a row? OK. So I can’t keep up with the water cooler talk about the latest episode of Castle. It’s alright because Tilly the dog is lacking in water cooler banter. I guess that’s the downside, or maybe the upside, of a home-based business. No banter, just slobbery dog kisses.
It keeps us healthier, the busier we are. Joe is almost in the middle of his Spirit basketball season for the YMCA. His team is now 3-4. He is a lot healthier than last year and has a lot more confidence on the court. He doesn’t get winded after a press down the court. And he doesn’t run until he nearly pukes. That is a big time relief for me. I’m not sure if the turnover is because he is getting older, or because he has started running for about 10-15 minutes every day to get his stamina up. Of course, he might be running because he is growing up. I am telling myself that it is not because he wants to look good for the ladies, he just wants to get in shape. Yep, that’s what I keep telling myself. Just let me live in my own little world. Don’t steal my happy. (He said yesterday that there was a girl he thought was pretty, but he will NEVER tell me who. I can’t imagine why.)
Anyway, his basketball team is just a hoot. (Yep, I said hoot. I am so not cool). There are some real personalities on that team and every game is a drama in and of itself. First, and foremost, the coach’s son is very passionate about the game. He could win a golden globe for injuries received from a foul, or his dramatic floor crashes when he wants another player called for a charge. And when things don’t exactly go his way, he has been known to spike the basketball. So far he has not received a technical. So far. I should mention that his dramatic scenes have improved greatly since Joe started playing on the team and he is started to get his emotions under control. But we appreciate the entertainment. Too bad Skittles are the only dinner we can buy at the concession stand to go with the show.
We also enjoy watching “hot Bobby” as a daughter of mine likes to call him. He is about a head taller than all the other boys on the team with about double the wingspan. So sweet. So cute. He also was on Joe’s baseball team. He dunked Rick with the team water jug when their baseball team won third in the league and almost cried when he made Rick’s nose bleed. We just love hot Bobby. He’s one of those genuine, kind-hearted kids that you want to see do well in life. And he always has a good game and we love to cheer for him. At the age of 12, he would be able to make Mandy’s picture wall of “People Who Are Taller Than Me.”
We also love little Trevor. He is one of those tiny point guards who dribble around the ankles of everybody else and then put up the big shots. He has the sweetest freckles and gets the hugest smile whenever his shots go in. Talk about playing for the joy of the game.
And like I said, Joe is improving in leaps and bounds. He is a big-time rebounder for the team. He has strong hands and loves to rip the ball out of someone’s grasp. And that football lineman body generally helps under the basket. During one of the team’s scrimmages last week, the coach’s son charged into Joe to try to take the ball from him. The coach’s son ended up sprawled on the ground and Joe held his ground -- and the ball. Whatever. He had seven points at the tournament last weekend and made two points Sunday night against their nemesis. He no longer has that deer-in-the-headlights look when he gets the ball. He just calmly lays it up into the basket.
He won’t, of course, be racing the ball down the court to break away and score. Joe is still a football player on the basketball court. I mean, l may be a proud mom, but I’m not delusional.
So Joe has two practices a week, and then games on Sundays. Piano lessons on Wednesday, and school basketball practice on Thursdays. He is the easy one. I don’t even need a day planner to handle that load.
But Mandy, on the other hand, I need access to all sorts of digital devices and social media to get her to all the places she needs to be. And she isn’t even in high school yet.
Mandy is playing club volleyball for Magic again this year. But -- prepare for the brag -- she made the Gold team this year. We are excited. That’s four practices a week, plus tournaments every other weekend on Saturday or Sunday. The first two tournaments will include older Elite teams, so we might go home with very few wins at the beginning of the season. But everybody tells us that the Gold team is the place to be. If she intends to try out for the SouthWest high school volleyball program and the freshman team, she needs to have tough competition this year. I just discovered there are about 500 kids per class at SouthWest. Incredible. I cannot even fathom that many classmates after attending a Class C high school. If she makes the team, fantastic. If she doesn’t, she is totally content to play club ball again next year.
Then the girl is also playing basketball for the YMCA this year. She is not pleased. Her dad suggested this would be a good idea in case she decides she might want to try basketball when she gets to high school. (I am highly, highly, highly doubting this will ever happen. However I’m not going to steal Rick’s happy.)
But she discovered the choice may not be all bad. She is playing on a 7th and 8th grade league and the girl who lives across the street is in on her team. Finally she will get to know our neighbor a little more. Finally she will have somebody to carpool with to practices. Finally she will have somebody to hang out with and maybe shoot baskets with in the driveway. (Yes, this is the little sister of “Hot Grant from across the street.” Yes, the one who comes out to mow shirtless when she sits outside reading her books. Yes, this is all we need.) So add another two practices a week and games Saturday to the tally.
Then Mandy also has her library volunteer time on Mondays, her TAB library meetings every couple of weeks, plus Thursday school basketball practices. Somehow she gets it all done and keeps straight A’s at school. Somehow I manage to get her where she needs to be and keep all her practice and game uniforms washed and ready to go. There is no time to realize we have no time. We might be late for practice.
Busy is good. I like busy. There is little time to eat leftover Christmas candy as I lounge on the couch. Plus Rick likes to keep the kids active and healthy. He thinks if Mandy is too busy to have time for boys, he has more time to get his concealed carry permit. It’s a win-win situation in his book.
I agree that busy keeps us organized. And when we have a free night we use it. We go to a hockey game or out with friends. We have to plan things about a month in advance, but that’s OK. If you are too busy to worry about the little stuff, you make sure and really enjoy the big stuff.
There will be time enough to sit around when the kids move out. Yep, then it will be just me and Rick. Yep, me and my husband. . . Oh well. I’ll worry about that tomorrow.
P.S. If you know Hot Grant from across the street, Mandy will deny all knowledge of this nickname, even though she came up with it. She also may start editing my blogs for content and to fit the time allotted.
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