Red Sox v. Yankees
This morning my 3yo, Sam, marched up and down the stairs singing "Red Sox are cool. Yankees are poo." I think my brothers used to say Yankees drool, but it got adapted by some of the kids over the last few years as a healthy rivalry sprouted in my family. I was born and raised in Massachusetts. We had season tickets right behind home plate. There are few memories I have of time with my dad when I was young. Almost all of them are at Fenway Park.
My oldest sister started her family in New York. She is quite a bit older than I am and did not live with us in Boston for long because she was able to do some interesting things with her education and started college while I was still in elementary school. She was never really a Sox fan. But, it doesn't excuse the choice to follow and cheer for the Yankees. It is fun, however, for our children to share an interest in baseball and love these two opposing teams.
There is simply something special about Boston's Fenway Park and the magic that happens in that place. It's not pretentious. It's kind of a mess. But, it is a beloved mess. I've been to the new Yankee stadium and I hate it. I love New York City. But, I think Yankee Stadium is a showy, overdone, spectacle. The first time I went to a game there I was stunned at how silly the whole thing seemed and how much ego was stuffed in to those walls and how inflated that brand had become. And then... I watched the Red Sox take the game and I remembered that it is the simplicity of the game that is what I love. And, I'm proud of my city and my Red Sox for allowing that amazing park to stand and remind everyone that a park is just a park to house the greatest game in the world.
Oh, and Yankees are poo!
Sam v. Fenway
Fenway is our ShiChi. I know, that's the lamest breed nickname ever but he's a pretty cool dog. He's tiny but ferocious. He is earning big points this week in the potty training battle. He's finally figured out that if he goes and stands by the back door and barks, we'll let him out to handle his biznass and to play in the grass for the whole five minutes he can stand the brutal sun. Plus, he has to be running around or sleeping or chewing on my feet at all times. Sam, on the other hand, is clueless in this whole exercise in potty training. I moved him to the Pull-ups that get cold if he pees in them. He likes it. He gets a big fat smile on his face when the pull-up gets cold. What the hell??
So, my three month old dog that barely cracks 4 pounds and has the tiniest brain on the planet is a genius and my baby likes chilly man parts. I'm so not the mom that puts their kid on the toilet every few minutes or that makes them stay till they go. I figure that they will do it when they are ready. But, I'm a little concerned that the big chill in the nether region will keep Sam in pull-ups till he hits puberty.
Being Generous v. REALLY Being Generous
I had a huge argument with someone earlier this week about what it meant to be really generous. This person was super critical of the amount of time and effort and expense I put in to taking care of someone nearby that needed a little something extra. The argument was that I didn't need to do any more, give any more, share any more time than I already had because a little was enough.
On a day when I yelled at my kids one too many times, and thought about dropping the dog off at the humane society, and wanted to tell my sister to shut her meddling pie-hole... I did one good thing. It was a banner day. I'm not often all that thoughtful or warm. I wish I were better, but mostly I'm kind of a mess. I admit it.
Last week my neighbor lost his best friend. When I asked him how he was, he fell apart. I'm not all that adept at being all comforting. And, in this situation I did the unthinkable and began to sob. After he helped me regain my composure, I left feeling like the biggest ass on the planet. His best friend died from complications with his first session of chemotherapy on the day that I had finished my very last chemo drip. It was just a weird coincidence, but for a moment all the terror of having cancer bubbled to the surface. I didn't know how to help him or be a support. I mindlessly picked up a few goodies at the store and then saw a beautiful glass blown hummingbird feeder and picked it up for my mom at first and then thought that perhaps he'd like it. When I took it over he got super excited. His best friend had an aviary in his back yard and did local rehab for injured birds. Who knew? And, how cool is that?
I don't know what I'd do if I lost my best friend. I'd probably fall apart and no glass blown bird feeder would ever be able to make it better. I'm already a candyass on my own, but she makes me less of one all the time because she's brave and super smart and more generous than anyone I know. She also knows that the Red Sox rule, and that Sam may never get potty trained, and that sometimes you just have to give someone a little extra time, care, and a piece of glass that you fill with red sugar water.
This morning my 3yo, Sam, marched up and down the stairs singing "Red Sox are cool. Yankees are poo." I think my brothers used to say Yankees drool, but it got adapted by some of the kids over the last few years as a healthy rivalry sprouted in my family. I was born and raised in Massachusetts. We had season tickets right behind home plate. There are few memories I have of time with my dad when I was young. Almost all of them are at Fenway Park.
My oldest sister started her family in New York. She is quite a bit older than I am and did not live with us in Boston for long because she was able to do some interesting things with her education and started college while I was still in elementary school. She was never really a Sox fan. But, it doesn't excuse the choice to follow and cheer for the Yankees. It is fun, however, for our children to share an interest in baseball and love these two opposing teams.
There is simply something special about Boston's Fenway Park and the magic that happens in that place. It's not pretentious. It's kind of a mess. But, it is a beloved mess. I've been to the new Yankee stadium and I hate it. I love New York City. But, I think Yankee Stadium is a showy, overdone, spectacle. The first time I went to a game there I was stunned at how silly the whole thing seemed and how much ego was stuffed in to those walls and how inflated that brand had become. And then... I watched the Red Sox take the game and I remembered that it is the simplicity of the game that is what I love. And, I'm proud of my city and my Red Sox for allowing that amazing park to stand and remind everyone that a park is just a park to house the greatest game in the world.
Oh, and Yankees are poo!
Sam v. Fenway
Fenway is our ShiChi. I know, that's the lamest breed nickname ever but he's a pretty cool dog. He's tiny but ferocious. He is earning big points this week in the potty training battle. He's finally figured out that if he goes and stands by the back door and barks, we'll let him out to handle his biznass and to play in the grass for the whole five minutes he can stand the brutal sun. Plus, he has to be running around or sleeping or chewing on my feet at all times. Sam, on the other hand, is clueless in this whole exercise in potty training. I moved him to the Pull-ups that get cold if he pees in them. He likes it. He gets a big fat smile on his face when the pull-up gets cold. What the hell??
So, my three month old dog that barely cracks 4 pounds and has the tiniest brain on the planet is a genius and my baby likes chilly man parts. I'm so not the mom that puts their kid on the toilet every few minutes or that makes them stay till they go. I figure that they will do it when they are ready. But, I'm a little concerned that the big chill in the nether region will keep Sam in pull-ups till he hits puberty.
Being Generous v. REALLY Being Generous
I had a huge argument with someone earlier this week about what it meant to be really generous. This person was super critical of the amount of time and effort and expense I put in to taking care of someone nearby that needed a little something extra. The argument was that I didn't need to do any more, give any more, share any more time than I already had because a little was enough.
On a day when I yelled at my kids one too many times, and thought about dropping the dog off at the humane society, and wanted to tell my sister to shut her meddling pie-hole... I did one good thing. It was a banner day. I'm not often all that thoughtful or warm. I wish I were better, but mostly I'm kind of a mess. I admit it.
Last week my neighbor lost his best friend. When I asked him how he was, he fell apart. I'm not all that adept at being all comforting. And, in this situation I did the unthinkable and began to sob. After he helped me regain my composure, I left feeling like the biggest ass on the planet. His best friend died from complications with his first session of chemotherapy on the day that I had finished my very last chemo drip. It was just a weird coincidence, but for a moment all the terror of having cancer bubbled to the surface. I didn't know how to help him or be a support. I mindlessly picked up a few goodies at the store and then saw a beautiful glass blown hummingbird feeder and picked it up for my mom at first and then thought that perhaps he'd like it. When I took it over he got super excited. His best friend had an aviary in his back yard and did local rehab for injured birds. Who knew? And, how cool is that?
I don't know what I'd do if I lost my best friend. I'd probably fall apart and no glass blown bird feeder would ever be able to make it better. I'm already a candyass on my own, but she makes me less of one all the time because she's brave and super smart and more generous than anyone I know. She also knows that the Red Sox rule, and that Sam may never get potty trained, and that sometimes you just have to give someone a little extra time, care, and a piece of glass that you fill with red sugar water.
