As a general rule in life, I try very hard to avoid things that stress me out... but the things that make me mad? I avoid those like the plague. It is one of the main reasons that I am single and that I've remained that way for so long. I have a zero tolerance for being angry. I don't like it and I will remove someone from my life if they make me angry.
I don't like being angry.
Or stressed out.
Period.

Now it is quite easy to avoid anger and stress if you stay in a nice little bubble and don't allow other things into your bubble. That's something that is quite easy for me.
This is a VERY high tech rendering of what my bubble might look like.

You'll notice that my mother and my job are the only two things that are both in and out of my bubble.
If I could just marry a VERY rich, semi attractive, kind man who wanted to buy my mom a house and give her an allowance and wanted me to quit working and pursue my dream of being an author, all would be right in the world.
Sadly, that is not to be.

Anyway, this edition of People and/or Things I am Pissed Off At isn't about my job or my mother.
It's about softball.
Now this isn't the first time I've been pissed off about softball and it probably won't be the last...
Let's start at the beginning.
Yeah.. go get a drink.
No, I'll wait.

A couple weeks ago, Amanda ditched softball practice to go to the carnival with Katy-Kate. She asked me if she could go and I was more than happy to let her since her and Emo have been fighting a LOT lately and I was looking forward to the break in the chaos. Plus, we live in the middle of nowhere and the girls don't often get invited to go do something fun so I wanted her to have a good time.
When Emilee went to practice that night, the coach apparently was pretty pissed that she had ditched practice and he talked about her lack of commitment to her teammates. If you have daughters or you are a chic, you know that gossip spreads like crazy when you are a preteen/teen so by the time Amanda was in school on Monday, all the drama about how she had ditched practice had circulated around and Amanda was afraid to go to practice that day because she thought she was in trouble.
When we got to practice that day, Amanda sucked it up and took her medicine. I blogged about how brave she was in talking to her coach and even though she felt it wasn't fair, I backed the coach when he made her sit out the first two innings of the game as punishment. I thought at the time that if it was his intention to have girls sit out for missing practice that he really should have made that clear at the beginning of the season but I didn't argue the choice.
But then it was like he was pissed at her for standing up to him. He kept on throwing jabs at her for having attitude. He regarded her disagreeing with him and having the guts to say so as attitude. And I get that some people raise their kids that way, I know that not all families are ran the same way mine is. I respect my kids and their opinions and I want them to stand up for themselves. I don't have the whole I'm the mom and I call the shots rule. Sometimes I have to pull The Mom Card and it trumps The Kid Card when it needs to, but I like for us to make decisions as a team, I like for the girls to feel in control of their lives and take responsibility for their choices. So the girls are allowed to stand up for themselves, respectfully and that was exactly what she had done. I was damn proud of her. And I was getting pretty sick of him giving her a hard time about it. And while I like for my kids to stand up for themselves, when bullying grownups are pushing the line of what I consider to be ok, I get to pull out my Mamma Bear and get them to back down.
Fast forward to Drama Night, Monday May 11th...
We had a game in a neighboring town and I got there at the same time as the caravan of vehicles bringing the kids from the various schools. Amanda, Camille, Emilee and a couple of other girls immediately hit the field and started warming up. The coach's daughter and two other girls hit the bench and said they weren't practicing until the coach got there. The girls on the field didn't care. Amanda was in a great mood and I know because I was taking pics and she was smiling and laughing and having a good time.
The coach got there and I went back to the bleachers. A few minutes later, Amanda called me over and said the coach was "being a butt". I asked her what had happened and she said he had walked over to her and said, "Amanda, you're going to play center for the first two innings and then move to first." She said, "ok." And then he went on this whole tirade about how he was tired of her bad attitude and he didn't know what her problem was with him but he was a nice guy so she had better knock it off.
All from an "ok"?
I told her we'd deal with it after the game.
A few minutes later, the girls started buzzing about how they were getting to play some new positions. I was glad to hear it since I'd mentioned at the game before that the coach, who had promised at the beginning of the season that all girls would be playing all positions, hadn't really moved the girls around very much and that it looked like the same four girls were rotating the bench.
Sure enough, about mid-way through he started shuffling the girls around. I was taking pictures while Camille's mom was keeping score so I was preoccupied with that and not paying as much attention to who was winning or what was going on in the game. Amanda and Emilee both waved me over towards the end of the third inning but I put them off since I wanted to finish taking pics. They were both clearly unhappy about something.
At the beginning of the fifth inning, I put my camera up and went to sit down with Camille's mom. At this point in the game we were ahead. Since we were visitors, we were up to bat first. I watched our team bat and everything seemed copasetic. Then it was time for our team to hit the field and the opposing team to bat. This was really the first chance I'd had to watch the game from a Mom standpoint and not just looking for great shots. I saw that the coach had moved the girls around and Emilee was playing second base.
If you don't have kids in sports, you probably have no idea how fun it is to watching your kids play a sport. Especially when it's a high traffic spot, like a base is in softball. It's very exciting.
Along with Emilee being on a new base, several other girls were also moved around to new bases. Now, while exciting, it is not the time to be pulling of risky moves when you have kids out there who haven't played those positions before. Unfortunately some errors were made where risky plays took place and didn't work out causing the opposing team to run several players in.
Our coach went NUTS.
He was yelling at the girls from the dugout. And I don't mean in a way that was productive, I mean in a WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? kind of way. And not just once, but over and over again.
And you know what?
If that happens to you while you're on the field, it's embarrassing. It sure as hell won't help your playing improve because he's basically just humiliated you in front of your team and the spectators.
When our girls went back to the dugout, Camille's mom asked the assistant coach as she walked by what the coach's deal was. She said, "I don't know, guess he's PMSing." Camille's mom said something about how he was being pretty rough on the girls, including the assistant coach's daughter. She said her daughter could handle it and then started walking across the field to take her position.
It was then that I heard Amanda yell at me and looked over to see her hugging Emilee, who was sobbing. Two other girls that are Em's friends and Camille were standing there patting her on the back, telling her it was ok. When I got over there, Amanda was livid. She proceeded to tell me that when they came of the field, the coach pretty much reamed them and when he started reaming them individually, he turned on Em. When Emilee started crying, Amanda jumped in and told him to more or less back off, he kept going and then Camille jumped in as well to defend Emilee before he finally backed off.
A quick glance into the dugout showed that Emilee wasn't the only girl crying.
It is at this point as a mother that you take stock.
-Someone has made my daughter cry... should I rip them apart with my bare hands? Or am I overreacting?
I stood there holding Emilee while Amanda went on and on about how we needed to leave, forget the coach, he isn't treating her sister that way! And then the coach looked over at me and saw that there was a commotion. He walked off the field and come over to where I was standing behind the dugout, walked up to me and said, "What's the deal Kate?" I told him, "the deal is that half of your team is crying Coach." His response was to look at Amanda and say, "Well bad attitudes spread like wild fire" and then looked at Emilee, "and if Emilee can't handle second base she shouldn't have asked to play it." And then he went back out onto the field.
It was like he said something but all I heard was, "Kate, I'm an asshole who is being mean to your kids, you should beat my ass. And if you need something to do it with, there is a whole dugout full of baseball bats. Go ahead, grab one."
And I so wanted to beat his ass. I wanted to punch him in the face for being shitty to Amanda and I wanted to kick him in the nuts for making Em cry.
I of course did neither of those things because I always have to take the stupid high road.
But I did tell the girls we would leave if they wanted but to remember that if they left, they would be leaving their team, not just the coach. They decided to stay since we were in the sixth inning and since the field didn't have lights the game would most likely be called soon anyway.
Sure enough ten minutes later, the Ump called the game.
I told the girls to get their stuff so we could go. Unfortunately, the girl who was carpooling with us was in charge of snacks so she had to get those and get them passed out. While she was doing that, the Ump called our coach over to talk to him. During this conversation, the coach got loud and mad and when he stomped off of the field, the Ump asked him for his last name and our coach yelled back, "None-Ya!"
What?
And then as he stomped through the dugout, he said, and I quote, "Fuck him, he isn't going to tell me how to coach my fucking team." His "fucking" team was sitting right there in the dugout as he said it to.
The little person who lives in my head was repeatedly pressing the ABORT button because my temper was almost unmanageable. I just kept repeating in my head over and over and over, "Take a deep breath, we're about to leave, take a deep breath, we're about to leave..."
The girls were done handing out snacks and were getting their gear together when the coach came back into the dugout to give his End Of The Game Speech.
"Take a deep breath, we're about to leave, take a deep breath, we're about to leave..."
He went into this whole spiel about how he HAD to take the girls to their breaking point to bring out the best of them.
If I were a cartoon character, this would have been the part where the steam started shooting from my ears and my head exploded.
You have to berate and yell at my daughter until she cried in order for her to be a better player? I. Don't. Fucking. Think. So.
As soon as I got the girls in the car, I quickly and vehemently explained that that whole line of thinking was bullshit. That no one has to tear you down to build you up. Immediately forget what you've just heard.
I was so mad.
When I got home, I did a lot of thinking about what I was going to do about all of it. I came to the conclusion that it wasn't ok and I needed to report him to our board. I talked to Camille's mom about it and then once I'd written up my compliant, I emailed it to her. She read it and called me and reassured me that I wasn't being all crazy-female and I sent it to the board.
The conclusion to this whole hot mess next, stay tuned.

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy, Emilee, fucking pissed, softball

On Monday, May 11th, our minors softball team, played an away game. During this game, the behavior of our head coach was despicable, inexcusable and embarrassing. I have two daughters on his team and have in the past witnessed actions that were on the border of what I would consider acceptable behavior, however last night he crossed the line.
It is my understanding that our league, especially on a minors level, is a learning league. It's meant to be preparation for future sports involvement and this is why I have my daughters enrolled here. I want them to be able to learn the skills needed to continue to play softball through high school and college, if they choose to. It would seem to me that the two things necessary for this to be accomplished would be
(1) that the child be taught the skills of the game and
(2) that they receive positive reinforcement to help build their confidence.
The OPPOSITE of both of those things are currently happening right now. Coach, who told us at the beginning of the year that all of the girls would get to play all positions, has repeatedly stuck the same girls in the outfield and on the bench. On May 11th, it was the first time we had really seen any effort made by him to play girls in new positions. During that game, if the girls missed a ball or made an incorrect play, he yelled at them across the field negatively. There was no positive reinforcement, no redirections - just berating.
When the girls came in from the 5th inning he huddled with them and continued to tell them what a horrible job they were doing which led to several of the girls crying. You would think that upon causing these girls to start crying that Coach would back off, maybe take a break and compose himself, he instead said he didn't care and stomped back onto the field leaving the girls to comfort each other.
I was standing behind the dugout where my daughter, Emilee was literally sobbing and APOLOGIZING for having messed up playing second base for the very first time. Coach left the field and walked up to me and said, "What's the deal [Kate]?" I told him, "the deal is that half of your team is crying Coach." His reponse was, "Well bad attitudes spread like wild fire and if Emilee can't handle second base she shouldn't have asked to play it." And then he went back out onto the field.
I can pretty much assure you that my daughter will never again ask to play any base or be given any kind of chance to learn a new position now that her singular attempt was shot down as being terrible.
Is THAT what we are trying to teach these kids?
The game ended a few minutes later and the umpire approached Coach about his behavior. Coach was argumentative and confrontational. As he walked away from the umpire, the umpire requested his last name so he could contact our board and Coach turned around and said, "None-Ya!" and then proceeded to walk through the dugout (where his team was) saying things like "F--- him" and "I don't give a s---!" and "Don't tell me how to coach my f---ng team!"
This behavior is appalling on its own and he is behaving this way in front of our children.
As the girls were gathering up their belongings, he came back to the dugout where he told the girls that he has to be that rough on them and has to push them to their breaking point in order for them to play better.
I realize that sports can be rough at times and that kids are going to get their feelings hurt. This is our fourth year playing softball and I can promise you this isn't the first time my kids have cried during in a game. However, to be verbally abusive to little girls and then tell them that it is ok because it makes them play better is unacceptable. I will not teach my children that the way to push a person to be their best is to tear them down.
If it weren't for the fact that my girls love playing softball and love their team, we would have left that game and we would not be returning. But they do love softball and they do want to continue playing and I don't think that they should be punished for their coach's behavior.
If Coach doesn't apologize to his team and his parents and make a serious effort to reform his coaching and behavior, I would request that he be removed as the coach and that our two assistant coaches take over for the remainder of the year.

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy, Emilee, fucking pissed, softball

I am sick and tired of being a member of such a crap family.
I hate that the vast majority of the population has a family that even remotely resembles normal and I am stuck being the oldest daughter of the freakin' king of dysfunctional families. In a nutshell: my dad and mom both did ridiculous amounts of drugs and drinking and my dad beat the crap out of my mom which was the conclusion of about 80% of the screaming matches that took place about 60% of the time I was growing up. After my dad, my mom managed to get together with someone even more destructive and I left.
At fourteen, I moved out.
Now I made an assload of mistakes and I will be the first person to admit to them. But I will also be the first person to point out that I had no idea what to do. No one set an example in my life. No one said, "Hey Kate, this is how you do stuff." I was just suddenly a young adult who wanted a different life and had no idea how to get it.
That was fourteen years ago.
And fourteen years later, I have three amazing kids who I love and who I have raised without the aforementioned dysfunction I was raised with. I have three daughters in whom I am instilling the way to "do stuff" and who I spend the majority of my time and energy into not fucking up.
And you know what? I'm doing a pretty god damn good job.
And my family treats me like I am some white trash girl who has done nothing with her life. Like I am some girl who can't do anything by herself. They give me ZERO respect for getting to where I am in life with very little help.
And the irony of it? I am the ONLY one who has.
I want so very badly to cut them loose. To get rid of my mother and my brother and not have them be a part of my life. But for whatever fucked up reason, I don't possess the ability to do it. I don't have it in me to cut them out and turn my back on them.
And I hate it.

Labels: Being Mommy, fucking pissed, my crazy life, my father, my mother, Noah

God I know better.
I totally know better than to get involved with someone who I work with.
I totally know better than to get involved with someone who is younger than me.
And I totally know better than to get involved with someone who puts down clauses about a lack of seriousness.
I even TOLD you at one point that I wouldn't get involved with someone who I worked with again unless it was serious. Unless there was a thread of serious intentions running through it. I mean, obviously one can't know for sure, but I wasn't intending to randomly sleep with a dude I worked with unless I was 'seeing where things were going' not as 'The Rebound Chic' and... well the part of the rebound chic will be played by Katehopeeden today...
I totally know better.
And yet, for reasons I am not completely sure of, I chose to ignore all of those things with you.
I believe it was because you were ridiculously nice. (And I am ridiculously stupid.)
Because you genuinely seemed to care. Because of those things I was able to "see past" all of my rules and knowing better.
Which worked out rather nicely for you, I suppose.
I, on the other hand, am feeling rather like an asshole.
Mostly because I believed you when you said that we were going to see where this was going, if anywhere. And I was totally cool with that. Partially because I wasn't in any hurry to jump into anything... Partially because I didn't know how I felt about you anyway and partially because we do work together. But mostly? Mostly because I thought you were being straight with me. And mostly because I believed you were being straight with me about that and about how we weren't going to see other people.
But I knew.
God I fucking knew.
I knew last week.
Want to know how I knew? Because I have dated - hell, I've been in relationships with people who were seeing other people. And because I have this vast freaking knowledge of exactly how it feels to be The Other Chic, I knew. At first, I thought I was being paranoid, even had conversations about how I was letting my past relationships overshadow my feelings. About how I was acting too much on jaded feelings and not just letting things flow.
Well fuck things flowing.
Exactly nine days ago you and I stood in your office and made plans with each other to get together two nights later. And two nights later you stood me up with the excuse that we didn't actually confirm those plans. Which made me feel like an asshole and really made you look like an asshole. But because this is new, because it is all supposed to be clean slate and because I am too nice for my own stupid good, I believed you when you said you didn't have your phone and even tried to see things for your perspective. But I knew that your reaction wasn't the one I was expecting and I'm pretty sure not the one I would have gotten a few weeks ago.
Deciding to let bygones be bygones, twenty four hours later, I let it go and acted like nothing had ever happened.
And it didn't matter because suddenly you started to act differently.
And I was all thinking that there was no way that was because of me. My reaction to you having blown me off could not possibly have warranted your change in temperature.
There was something else.
Ok, so at first, I did think it was me. That maybe I'd come on too strong, although I seriously doubted it. Maybe you'd realized that it was too much seeing someone with whom you worked, which was possible. I ran through the whole effing list of shit that I could have done and couldn't seem to find something that warranted it.
So after I spent like four hours in therapy reminding myself that there isn't anything wrong with me and I need to get out of the habit of blaming myself for everything going wrong, I took a look at you.
You suddenly stopped making eye contact which I took as a sign of guilt. You suddenly started asking the other chic who we work with to help you with stuff which I took as a sign of you avoiding me. And on the occasions in which I did help you with something, like today, it was so very awkward.
Now I noticed the reason why yesterday but didn't want to jump to conclusions, but then today it happened again and I am not An Idiot (nor do I play one on TV, even when I'm standing in as The Rebound Chic). Your cell phone rang and instead of you answering it, "Hello this is the boy" or "Hey Buddy!" you answered it with a quiet "hello" and then proceeded to talk to some chic quietly and with much flirting. And so, because I am not in the habit of being An Idiot (at least not on purpose), today I stood out in the lobby with three other people, all of whom could hear your conversation and pretended to be interested in what they were saying while I listened to you.
Listened to you flirt shamelessly.
And listened to the following conversation which pretty much solidified things for me:
"Do I smoke? Wait, did you say smoke? Oh "snore", I thought you said smoke. Well, sometimes if I'm out at a club I might have a couple of cigarettes... but as to the other? Well, you'll just have to wait and find out..."
You could practically hear the wink. You know, the one I actually saw not two weeks ago when you used that tone with me.
At which point I went back to my office because it was inherently clear to me that you've found some other chic that you are into and the thing is? That's fine. But god damn, you could have unhooked me before you re-baited. I've just been hanging here trying to figure out what's going on for days.
I'm a big girl and it's only been a couple of weeks, I'm fairly certain I could have recovered and even continue being friends after our "fling" but you, you are a chicken shit. You didn't even have the balls to tell me? It's just disrespectful. And now, I don't know if I can go back to being friends. Mostly because I am feeling like The Stupid Used Girl.

Dissapointedly,
The Rebound Girl
KHE

Labels: At work, Being a Chic, Being Retarded, Dating, fucking pissed, I actually had sex, I'm a loser, my crazy life, My pathetic excuse for a love life, self loathing

Ok, I think I should warn ya'll:
In this post, I can pretty much guarantee excessive use of the word "fuck" and "bitch." If either of those words are particularly offensive to you (if you are a long time reader of LOC, you should be completely immune), then you may want to skip this post all together.

Last night my girls had a softball game. We were playing the team that is pretty much as good as we are and so it's a total toss up as to who will win. (Unlike the Super Softball girls who kicked our asses, hard, when we play them 21-0 last Saturday.)
Ok, but I am getting ahead of myself.

I need to tell you about how I came to hate the other parents on the softball team.
I never really buddied up with any of them in the first place because I have the huge red SM on my forehead (Single Mom) and these married types don't dig me so much. Which doesn't bug me so much since I've known I was basically an outcast since Amanda started kindergarten back in '02.
And I knew I was the only Single Mom on the team when they handed out the phone number list. Every line read like this:
Little Girl - Mom - Dad
Except Amanda and Emilee's lines which read:
Amanda - Kate - LastName
Which kind of cracked me up that they felt they had to have two names there regardless.
Anyway, none of these moms ever talked to me unless they had to and when they did it was very condescending so I decided it was better for both them and I that we didn't try to socialize too much.
Besides, I am there for my girls, not to make friends.
So, I basically kept my distance and was pleasant.
Then, last week, we had a game against the team that we are the most equally matched to. It was a good game. And we were winning by like one point.
Now, let me lay out the basics here for you. When we play, it is for six innings or an hour and a half. BUT, if we are in the fourth inning at an hour and a half and no one needs the field after us, then the coaches for both teams can let the game play out. It is up to the coaches.
This happened at that game.
We are one point up at the top of the sixth and it's been an hour and a half.
(I sounded like I totally knew baseball there huh?)
A buzz starts up amongst the Front Row moms. The Front Row moms are: The Coach's Wife, Assistant Coach's Wife, Team Mom and The Flaming Bitch From Hell.
Well, they wanted to call time because we were winning.
We had just batted and they wanted to call time now instead of letting the other team bat and have a chance to score.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Shouldn't that be called CHEATING?
If we got to bat, then they should fucking get to bat.
Oh, these moms are getting all riled up. Mostly because Team Mom and The Flaming Bitch From Hell are stirring the pot.
Well, the Coach, who kicks so much ass says no way. We are playing it out.
Period.
You go Coach.
We still won.

Last Saturday, we played the Super Softball girls who, as I mentioned, annihilated us. Which is cool because I am not one of those we have to win moms. We knew they would beat us, the girls knew they would beat us. They are all nine and ten and have been playing for four years. They only play us to fill up the games that they need for the season.
It was a home game and Amanda's best friend and BF's Mom were there to watch. Anyway, it was a good game, they played well. I was sitting in the back watching with BF's Mom (who I dig, despite her married status :P) and our girls weren't really playing great. We were missing a couple of the better players and some of the younger girls (five) were dropping and/or missing the ball a lot.
But who cares right?
They are fucking trying!
I hate to sound all my kids are better than your kids here, but Amanda and Emilee were playing really well. So, Amanda catches the ball (she plays second) and then checks third and checks first before throwing it back to the pitcher.
Right after she checks first, Team Mom yells, "throw it to the pitcher! Some time today!"
Um, I'm sorry. What?
Bitch, you did not just yell at my kid. You. Did. Not.
Took everything I had not to get up, march my sunburned ass down to the Front Row and tell this chic not to ever, ever talk to my daughters like that again.
You don't fucking get to yell at other people's kids like that.
PERIOD.
If you ever say a fucking thing to either of my girls it had better fucking be to cheer them on. Just like I do to your girls. You don't get to be a sarcastic fucking bitch.
Oh God, how I wanted to go down there.
But sadly, I am a high road person when it comes to setting a good example in front of my girls and I don't think that seeing Mommy throwing down with some bitch in the stands would really be showing them the whole it's just a game, we're there for fun mantra I've been chanting.
So, I ate it.
And by ate it, I mean I mentally filed it away. You see, in my sick little mind, I keep track of these evil bitches. Why? Well, because I like to keep a tally list of who fucks their kids up the most by the end of highschool.
You know, so on graduation day, I can be all petty when my daughter walks of the stage with three scholarships as valedictorian and theirs... well, doesn't walk off the stage for another year. And is anorexic and smoking cigarettes behind the school.
And pregnant.
Yeah, that's just how my mind deals ok?

Ok, now last night. Last night we played the same team from last week. The equally matched team. I got there and sat as far away from everyone else as I could while still being on the "Visitor" bleachers.
I tune them out. I focus on the game and try and ignore everything that these people talk about. I don't care if they think I am some kind of snob, I am only there to see my girls.
But, it's kind of hard to tune out The Flaming Bitch From Hell when she is yelling at the Umpire.
Now, I believe that when you start playing the game, you are basically accepting the Umpire as being in charge and you can't go and get pissed off at him later.
He is the boss.
And I am not out there. I don't see what he sees so I take his calls. PLUS this is a FUCKING LITTLE LEAGUE GAME. It's not... well whatever the hell the big games in baseball are called.
So, after The Flaming Bitch From Hell has been yelling at the Umpire, who has come over THREE. times. to explain to her why he made the call he made, she starts bitching about how the game is running over time.
Well, yeah, when you are fucking keeping the Umpire busy, the game goes on hold, you stupid. fucking. bitch.
So, she starts threatening to pull her kids. Now, if she pulls her kids, then the game is forfeited because we won't have enough players. This is the SECOND time she has done this.
I hate her.
She starts saying that the game should have ended by now (at this time, we are about five minutes past schedule) since it has been an hour an a half.
But, there is no one waiting to use the field and the weather is superb, not even hot. The kids and parents from both teams want to finish the game.
Oh no, The Flaming Bitch From Hell wants to call it while it's tied. Does she think that the damn stats are going on her kid's permanent record or something? Like, she won't get into college because she had a bad Little League season?
Geezus!
And she is getting more and more mad at the Umpire for his calls and the fact that he is ignoring her when she is bitching. So, at the bottom of the fifth, the coach comes over and asks all the parents if anyone needs to leave (mainly to satisfy The Flaming Bitch From Hell who has done nothing but bitch about how early she needs to get up the next morning). At this point, I am biting my tongue so hard, I am surprised it isn't bleeding.
So, I stand up and say "my girls can stay, we're here so that they can play the game so we're good." He smiles at me as if he wishes he could yell THANK YOU!! and I look over at The Flaming Bitch From Hell, pointedly, to see that she is scowling at me. And I so didn't care. BRING IT ON. While I have moral/parental issues with picking a fight, I have no issues with "defending myself." So he looks over at the other parents and says "Everyone else ok, or do some of you need to leave?"
Suddenly, everyone was really interested in their shoes.
That's right.
PLAY BALL.
It was like The Flaming Bitch From Hell was just trying to piss me off.
She quits bitching about the time and starts bitching about every fucking thing else. I think even the other Front Row moms were getting sick of her shit because suddenly, no one was really talking except, of course, The Flaming Bitch From Hell.
And then, her daughter (she has three and the oldest is 14 and sits with her during the game) decides that since Mommy is so bent out of shape, it's a good time for her to jump in.
So, she starts fucking with the other team's batter.
Whenever a little seven or eight year old went up to bat, The Flaming Bitch From Hell's daughter would wait until the ball was pitched and then yell "Let's Go [our team name]!!" to fuck the little girl up.
My mouth actually fell open.
I mean, these are KIDS for fuck's sake.
After the third batter, I wasn't the only one appalled by this snotty little bitch. The Coach's Wife turned around and told her to knock it off.
When the game was finally over, at 8:00 (two hours after it started), I practically hit the eject button on my bleacher seat. I went down to the dugout to get my girls. Well, looky here, there is the Umpire.
I walked straight up to him and told him I thought he called a great game.
In front of all the parents on our team.
Fuck 'em.
Then, as I am walking back to my car with my daughters, who had played brilliantly, Amanda says, "Mommy, we really won."
I stopped walking, about fifteen feet from the field and asked her what she was talking about.
"Well, I heard the other moms and they said that the Umpire was wrong. That we really won."
I explained to her that no, we did not win. We lost a great game, 10-7. And it was a great game because not only were we equally matched and because both teams made several runs, but also because both of them (my girls) had scored points and played extremely well.
Then, I explained, loudly and within hearing distance, that accusing the Ump of calling a game wrong was insulting and rude and I didn't want to hear either of my girls do it ever again.
I told them that he is a volunteer first of all and secondly that when they step onto that field, they are agreeing to let him referee the game. You don't get to get mad if you don't like his call later.
Every mom on that team heard me.
And you know what?
Fuck 'em.

Labels: Being Mommy, fucking pissed, softball