Every year when we get our pictures done for softball season, Lifetouch (who seems to hold the monopoly on any photo's taken of your children through high school) offers to make us photo buttons for the low, low price of eleven bucks. The first year I bought one and tried not to think about how I was WASTING money. Eleven bucks for a button? Really?
This year when we got our order forms, they were selling the buttons for eleven bucks for two. You know, for the kids with two parents. What the hell am I gonna do with two buttons? I can barely remember to bring one to the games to wear.
So I decided rather than cough up the cash for two buttons I didn't need for eleven bucks, I would do some checking online and see if I could find a better deal.
And boy did I.
Zazzle.com is a pretty amazing website for customized gifts. And their buttons? They are very inexpensive and printed on 100% recycled paper.

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy, Emilee, RBATOTD, softball, Triniti

I am a firm believer that if you are a good person and you do good things and you follow the rules that everything will be ok.
I like rules.
I like organization.
I like procedure.
And I like good things and good people.
So when the outcome of my compaint against the coach backfired, it was pretty hard for me to handle. Hard in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. Hard in an unfair way.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I emailed my complaint into the person who handles complaints for softball and he immediately responded that he had received it and would review it with the grievance commitee and get back with me.
Thursday night, I got the following email:
We had our meeting last night and we didn’t finish till about 11:30. The committee agreed that [Coach] is to call a team meeting and apologize to the players and parents. He is to give 3 days notice of the meeting and notify myself or [the VP of softball] so either one of us can attend the team meeting....If you have any other questions please let me know.
I called and spoke to Camille's mom about this and she asked me what I was going to do. I told her I had every intention of accepting his apology and moving on. I don't want him removed, I just want him to change the way he is treating the girls.
The thing is, I had considered talking to him about this directly but we have these systems in place for a reason. If I feel like he's out of line, the board needs to know if for no other reason than that it's recorded. This way, if it continues to happen, everyone will know it wasn't the first time and appropriate actions can take place.
I was following the rules.
I called the two assistant coaches to let them know I had filed the complaint and that it had been my recommendation that they take over the team should he be removed. I made it very clear to them that I wasn't trying to hand out pitchforks or recruit people, I just wanted them to be aware of the situation.
The assistant coach who had actually seen everything let me know that he more or less agreed with me and had confronted the coach before. The other coach was very short with me, making it clear that she wasn't on my side.
The next morning the coach called and left a voicemail telling me that there would be a team meeting that evening at 6:00pm and that parents and players needed to be there. This was on my birthday and Amanda was on a field trip until 7:00pm but I still took Emilee.
It was immediately clear that the coach had called and recruited the parents I was not friends with. No one spoke to me, stood near me or sat on the same row of the bleachers as me. All I could think about was how I didn't want Emilee there.
Isn't it funny how you don't care what is about to happen to you, but man oh man, you don't want your kids there.
I knew the shit was about to hit the fan and I just wanted Emilee to magically be back at home. And do you know what she did Internet? She reached over and grabbed my hand. When I looked at her, I expected her to look scared. She wasn't. She was holding my hand because she thought I looked scared.
I really have these amazing kids.
The coach began by covering the schedule for our games, a few had been switched around and he wanted to make sure we were all aware of it.
Then he jumped into his "apology"... He started by telling us that he had had every intention of apologizing for his behavior before the game we had coming up that Saturday, but due to the circumstances (he looked right at me when he said that), he was being made to apologize sooner.
Great, this is going to suck.
He went on to say that was fine since he wanted the air cleared before Saturday's game anyway. He then went on and on about how he was more or less sorry that "some of you" felt he was being too rough on the girls and that his temper had gotten a bit out of control and that he would work on it but really that is just how he is.
He opened the floor up to the parents and the one who he is very good friends with immediately jumped in about how he didn't think the coach had done anything wrong at all and that he felt this whole complaint was BS. He talked for about five minutes and he looked directly at me the whole time.
Emilee squeezed my hand.
Let me jump in here for a second and tell ya'll that there were only two adults anywhere near the dugout when this all went down. Me and the assistant coach I mentioned earlier. None of these other people heard anything.
After he was done, the assistant coach who was on the field jumped in and said that she thought the complaint was bogus as well, that she felt he had handled the situation just fine.
Then her husband asked the coach if he felt he had treated the girls any differently than they would be treated in highschool or college.
Camille's mom jumped in there and said, quite clearly, "we aren't playing highschool or college softball." to which the coach responded that she was right and that, yes, the girls probably would be treated the same once they were older but he was going to work on not treating them that way right now.
At this point, the coach's wife jumped in and gave a lengthy speech about how she couldn't believe anyone would slander her family's charachter and how five years ago when they were planning to move out here, they would drive by these softball fields and they had a dream that one day they could be involved. That he husband's dream was to coach here and he was living his dream now and she can't believe that anyone would accuse him of being inappropriate or abusive. And that he would never hurt the girls.
At this point, the assistant coach who was there jumped in. He put his hand on the coach's wife's shoulder and said, "I don't think anyone is trying to slander your family's charachter, we just..." She cut him off by violently jerking away from him and glared at me and said, "Well you didn't read the complaint."
I said nothing.
It ran through my mind that I could have stood up at that point and given my own speech. That I could have brought copies of the complaint with me to pass out to everyone to read. That I could email it out later when I got home.
Many things ran through my mind, but the fact was that I wasn't about to make a scene in front of the kids and that any attempt to defend myself at that point would have just escalated all of this into a huge arguement where no one would win.
Our coach reached down and grabbed her shoulder and told her "enough" because he knew damn well that she wasn't even at the game and that we weren't supposed to be talking about the complaint any way.
That was the thing, no one should have even known there was a complaint or that the coach was being forced to apologize (even if he said he was going to anyway), it should have been on the down low. Those parents should have thought this was a routine meeting and nothing more.
The coach looked back over at the assistant coach who his wife had just cut off and asked him to continue. He looked scared.
He stuttered his way through the next few minutes with the most inarticulate defense you've ever heard, bless his heart. He told the coach that he didn't think anyone was slandering him but that we just didn't agree with his technique, we felt he was being too hard and rough on the girls.
The coach said, "well I had hoped to end this on a good note" and went on to apologize to the girls by telling them that he felt he was bringing out their best but if they felt he was being too hard on them, he was sorry and he would try to not be so hard on them anymore.
He then looked over at the VP of Softball who was monitoring the meeting and told him that we were done unless he had anything to add.
He said that he didn't but then went on to talk about how he is military and a coach and that he often yells at his boys but maybe it is different coaching boys than girls.
Great, way to have his back Authority Figure Who Wasn't Even There.
The coach "adjourned" our meeting.
Camille's mom got up and immediately left. I could tell she was mad.
Another mom who I am friends with asked me about something school related and then I left. Camille's mom was in the parking lot and told me to call her when I could talk.
Talk?
I could barely think I was so mad.
I drove to the meeting spot where Amanda would be dropped off on her way home from her field trip and gave Em a dollar to go get an icecream and called her.
She said, "Kate, that was nothing more than a witch hunt."
She was mad. She went on about how the complaint shouldn't even have been mentioned, even known about and that our coach, as a board member (she is also a board member) knows that and how she intended to talk to him and the board about it.
I told her what I had decided on the drive there, that I was pulling the girls off the team. The kids at that meeting snubbed Em and were clearly pissed at me since their parents were pissed at me and going to mean to my kids on account of it.
I can deal with all the parents hating me, I'm a big girl, but they aren't going to be mean to my kids because of it.
She said she didn't blame me.
I told both of the girls that night.
Amanda is all her fight until the end glory said she still wanted to play because she was going to show them and they weren't going to win this. I love that fight in her. Emilee still wanted to play because, like me, she doesn't stay mad and forgives easily and quickly and she wants to play with her friends.
I pulled The Mom Card and told them we were done.
I called the coach to tell him, he let me go to voicemail.
The next day I spoke to the player agent for softball and let him know. He asked me why I had decided to pull the girls and I told him about how the coach had handled everything in a way that I didn't agree with and in a way that I think is shocking since he is a board member and that this man was not going to be a role model to my daughters. He doesn't believe he's done anything wrong. I told him that I had intended to accept his apology that evening and move on but that he had recruited parents and turned this into a big ugly thing. I will not have my girls hate softball because of him. We will play next season with a different coach.
He told me that he agreed with me but that he couldn't control what our coach had done and that there wasn't really a good system in place for handling these things. He asked if there was any way I would reconsider, I told him my girls wouldn't play under that coach this season or ever again - period.
This guy really believes that tearing these girls down is ok. Sometimes I gotta stand between people like him and my kids. This is one of those times.

God I was so mad.
It was so unfair that my girls had to stop playing softball because of this. That we "lost" this fight because he cheated and didn't play by the rules, the rules I believe in. I followed procedure and did what I was suppsosed to do and he should have too and he didn't and he still gets to play.
I had a little mini break down on Saturday when Fairy came over.
I was just so mad.

The coach called me Monday to ask me to reconsider. I felt like I was going to boil over during that conversation but I never even raised my voice. I told him that I had had every intention of accepting his apology that day. However, since he'd chosen to talk shit about me to all the parents who were now mad at me and whose kids were now mad at my kids, he'd left me no choice but to withdraw the girls.
I made it clear that I wasn't going to let the way he had treated my kids this season or the way that the kids would now treat my kids ruin the way my girls felt about softball.
We love softball and I want them to want to keep playing and if they do choose to stop it won't be because their coach is making them cry or because their teammates are snubbing them because of their mom.
I told him exactly how I felt about how he had handled things and I called him out for lying about cussing in the dugout. I told him that my girls have very few male role models and it WAS NOT OK for him to be one and treat them that way and I take that VERY seriously.
I think after having heard everything I had to say, he understood. And, dare I say, actually felt bad.
I've since heard from a couple of parents whose kids have concurred what I said and who wanted to hear the whole story. I encouraged them to listen to their kids because last season, I blew off a lot of what my kids told me. I didn't take it seriously and this season, as I was more involved, I realized they were right.

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy, Emilee, softball

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

Labels: Amanda, softball

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy, Emilee, softball

Labels: Amanda, Emilee, softball

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy, Emilee, softball

Things you will need:
2 big boxes of Rice Krispies
5 10oz bags of marshmallows
1 bag of red licorice
butter
red air-brush icing
wax paper
baggies
ribbon

The way that this sort of thing begins is with an idea.
I can trace back for you how the idea came to me.
I picked my kids up from daycare and grabbed my free copy of the NickJr magazine that the daycare lady gives us and took it home. It had some travel suggestions in it so I thought it possible that I'd browse through and see about some random weekend thing the girls and I could do. Like camping. The magazine made it's way from room to room as everyone but me browsed through it.
So last night, after dinner, I suddenly remember that I need to bring snack for the game today. It's my turn. Resigning myself to running into Boerne to hit Wal-Mart, I told my mom and asked if she'd keep an eye on the girls. She says she will but "didn't you see that cute little recipe in the magazine for the baseball shaped popcorn balls? It was so cute, it had red licorice on it for the lines...."
A little light bulb dings itself on over my head and I for some insane reason decide that we should make those. That would be so cool. All the other moms on the team will be utterly impressed by my creative ingenuity and throw flowers at my feet as they wish they were as cool as me.
Ok, well not really.
Instead of Wal-Mart, I run down to the new Dollar/Grocery Store down the road from my house. I don't usually shop there and have only been there twice. Why? Because it's not a dollar store. It's a big convenience store, complete with convenience store pricing. And instead of popcorn, we decided to make rice krispies treats.
I get everything I need and head back home where I begin melting marshmallows and butter and my mother tried to devise a way to cut the licorice into smaller pieces.
Now, let me let you in on a bit of top secret information that you may not have been privy to prior to reading this little entry.
Rice krispie treats do not like to be round.

That's right. The little effing balls would much rather be pressed into the baking pan as the directions mention. So many of my balls fell apart and had to be pressed back together, sometimes requiring the use of some Melted Marshmallow Glue (patent pending).
I fought with these balls for the course of about two hours before deciding that rather than continue to shape them, I would shape them and then wrap them in wax paper, so they could retain the round shape I so desired and I could maintain my sanity.
This is where my mother's part comes in. Make the little licorice strings stick to the rice krispie balls. Seemingly easy task right? With a little help of my Marshmallow Glue, it should have worked. Alas, work it did not. It was as though the licorice and the balls were opposite ends of a magnet and refused to bond. God damn them.
That left my mother and I sitting there covered in butter and little rice krispies, trying to figure out how in the sam hell we are going to make these balls look like baseballs.
And then, I remembered the "air brushing icing" I had purchased for some other brilliant idea I had many moons ago. Was it red? I couldn't remember. I located it on the shelf with all the other cake decorating junk and sprayed a little into the sink.
Bingo!
The fun part was next. Pick up the ball, reshape it for the millionth time and spray red lines around it before it fell apart, wrap it quickly in wax paper and tie it off.
The whole while realizing that the other mothers were much less likely to bow at your feet with the edible abomination you would be presenting their children for snack.
The end result:


Lessons learned:
Never begin a barely thought out made from scratch snack at 8:00p on a school night.
Always have red spray icing.
Do not pick up free magazines.
Always put butter on your hands previous to attempting to shape a rice krispie treat.
Never tell your mother you need to get snacks for the game.
Always have a back up plan.

PS. Watched American Idol, want to marry Blake Lewis.

Labels: Amanda, American Idol 6, Being a Chic, Being Mommy, Being Retarded, I'm a loser, my crazy life, softball

“Well, they lost their first game last night.”

”Awww, that’s too bad. Did they cry?”

“Not when they lost the game, but Emilee cried the whole way home after she dropped her nachos.”

Labels: Being Mommy, Emilee, softball

Tuesday we had softball practice and I was running late getting to the daycare. When I walked in, Amanda was in my line of sight and had just finished washing her hands. She glanced up and saw me and this look of complete relief came over her face.
I told her and Emilee to get their things and quickly as we were super late.
Once we were in the car, Amanda said, "Mommy, I'm so glad you're here!"
Thinking that she meant in time for softball, I made a joke about how I wouldn't forget about softball. She told me that wasn't why.
"We have a new teacher Mom and she is Eeee-VIL. So here's the thing, me and Camille and Kate and Erin were playing outside and Miss Rory (teacher for another class) said we needed to come inside because she was taking her class inside and where was our teacher anyway? We said we didn't know and went in and then Miss Rory started telling the new teacher about how she can't just be leavin' us kids out there without any supervision and the new teacher is all saying she didn't and then she looks right at me Mom and she says 'I GUESS that my class just doesn't know how to listen.' And I was all like oh no, she didn't just say that and I wished right then that my mom would get here and then I looked at the door and you walked right in mom like a superhero!"

Labels: Amanda, Being Mommy, Calvin and Hobbes, my crazy life, softball

(For those of you who don't check out my flickr page, here is a pic of the shiner Emilee got when the softball nailed her in the face yesterday. She was trying to catch a pop fly and it missed her glove.)

Labels: Being Mommy, Emilee, softball

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