Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Fortune-ately One of These Was Mine

Mad skills?

I hope I have shaved...

You know my favorite Chinese food game (hint: add "in bed" to the end of your fortune).  Now, get to laughing!  These two may be some of my favorites EVER next to Mr. Incredible's that said "You are your own best friend." 

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Reckless of the Derbyvilles

In the past week I have purchased new wheels and new toe stops, learned to change my own wheels and install my own bearings, received my first dose of outdoor rink rash (I was properly attired, fyi. and,  ahem... no, you cannot see the pictures), iced my swollen ankles repeatedly, cried at practice, cried the ENTIRE drive home from practice, skated FIFTEEN hours in six days, and smiled when I knocked the crud out of a member of the opposing team.

I also had an epic fail when I *tried* to MacGuyver an outdoor skate wheel with an indoor bearing. 

Note: Do not try this at home. Indoor bearings on outdoor wheels will not "do in a pinch."

Along with all my other derby shenanigans, I have been participating in a little contest in our league called Leaner, Faster, Stronger.  It's about improving and promoting our athleticism performance, and general health and fitness as individuals.  Well, I haven't improved my 20 lap time, I haven't lost any weight (in fact I have gained four pounds in the last four weeks), and my butt and thighs are bigger.  So much for skating my butt off.

However, I passed the pencil test this morning!  I can no longer hold a pencil underneath my butt cheek.  Why I know this... well, it's a long story but one that JMom can appreciate.  I hope it's a sign that things are moving up!

Thanks to the sweet derby sisters who checked on me after the practice that made me think I might not be able to do it.

Thanks to the pre-derby friends who are cheering me on and continuing to offer their love and support unconditionally.  Even when they don't get the new fascination.

Monday, May 16, 2011

I Need Your Final Answer....

Considering his first impulse was to grab the duct tape, I'd say the MIGHT is no longer in question.

Happy Monday to ya!  I've got a preschool graduation to attend...

Saturday, May 14, 2011

The Fat Lady Only Has a Few Short Bars Left...

I'm taking it down about fourteen notches today.  I haven't been particularly serious on here in... oh, let's see... a good year... 

But, today, I'm doing it.  Even though you stinkin' readers don't like it, don't respond to it, and, honestly, don't read it.  However, when I started this blog, I started it as a forum for me to reflect, document, and editorialize.  For me.  To write it out and see where I was, to take inventory of me.

So, I'm going through some "things" in my life.  Aren't we all?  And they have me in a quiet place.  I'm not going to bring them all out here, but one hit me in a new and real way on Tuesday when I took Bonus to a classmate's birthday party.  And I need to talk about it a little.

Nearly a month ago, I took Bonus up to the elementary school where RNR attends.  It was for Kindergarten registration, and I wasn't going to miss that.  I have had a preschooler wrapped around my legs for the last twelve years.  It's time for me to get my legs back!  I keep saying that I'm so ready for this part of my life to come to an end.  And a large part of me is.   

But I discovered on Tuesday that there is a part of me that is not ready to let go of this stage in my life.

You see, I've got three smart, beautiful, talented kids, but I wanted four. 

And I can't have four because:

1).  I'm forty, and really, I don't have the energy to do the pregnancy and newborn and preschool thing all over again.  I'll already be 54 when Bonus graduates high school. 

2).  My doctors would kill me (if I didn't just go ahead and die on my own on them this time).

3).  Babies are freaking expensive, and I am going to have to buy a bassoon in a few years (google a fox bassoon; you might pass out.  a "nice" instrument can be $20,000). 

4).  I don't have a bedroom for another child, and I don't really want to move to another house.

5).  Oh yeah, and there was the little snip-snip... So, unless it really is a miracle, it isn't going to happen.

So, I'm not going to have four.  I'm not going to have anymore of my own babies.  Bonus is my last preschooler, and he only has two more days of preschool. 

I stood at this birthday party for a precious little girl in his preschool class and watched these little people who have attended preschool together for the last couple of years.  I watched my little person running around not needing my help.

As I spoke to another mom I know, it all hit me, and I actually started tearing up in Chuck E. Cheese.  And she and I talked about it for a moment.  She was kind and gracious and let me talk.  And then, she somehow knew that I needed to make sure we changed the topic because I was about to lose it and have a big ugly cry right in the middle of the party room.

In just a few short months, I'm not going to have my little buddy with me at the Krogert begging me for candy bars, chips, fruit snacks, or even something healthy.  "Mama, can I have some of this yogurt.  Yogurt's healthy for me.  Right, Mama?"

I won't have a little person asking if we could listen to Justin Bieber "Eeny Meeny" one more time as we drive around town doing errands.

I won't be a mother of a preschooler.

And I'm not really sure I know what that looks like. 

I'm not altogether sure I know what I look like without a little person wrapped around my legs.

Monday, May 9, 2011

From the Mouth of Bonus: Mother's Day Edition

"My Mom"

My mom's name is [Reckless].   Good job, Buddyroe.  You know I have a name other than Mommy.

She is 40 years old.  I wish you would stop telling everyone this information, but, again, correct, Young Skywalker.

and weighs 82 pounds.  You will go far with the ladies, L.L. Cool J.

Her eyes are blue,  They are brown hazel.  When I took of my sunglasses in the parking lot and asked him what color my eyes were, he said, "Orange."  Hmpf!  I prefer golden, but he might be right.

and her hair is darkish.  He gets this one right because I don't know what color ombre is either.

Her favorite color is pink & green and orange.  Keep listing them, little man, you are bound to get some right.  Green and orange are correct.  I don't hate pink...

She loves to play Wii.  Ummm.  Right.  He loves to play Wii.

While I'm at school, she plays roller derby.  Bonus gets the bonus points.  Apparently one of the teachers thought he might have an overactive imagination on this one.

and she just loves to eat macaroni.   As long as it is covered with cheese.

I hope your Mother's Day was as special as mine.

Breakfast in bed.  Mr. Incredible even thought to snap a picture with his phone and emailed it to me so I would be all ready for the blog. 

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Adding Insult to Injury

I haven't checked in with you on my new favorite thing in a little while.  Sorry I left you hanging.  Quick recap... I made the team.  Go Reckless!  And I think my team name and my teammates are exceptionally fannypacktastic (to refamiliarize you with the poetic license of Miss Noteworthy).  Who wouldn't want to wear glitter gold as part of their team uniform?  You know me--I love the sparkles. 

My team may even be even the bomb diggity (Oh my word.  Did I really type that and leave it for people to actually view with their eyes?  Yes. I did it.  The malfunctions of last night have overflowed onto the fresh new day.  Dang...).

I love derby practice and count down the days and minutes until it arrives.  However...

...last night's derby practice brought a strong dose of reality.  In the form of a deep muscle bruise.  On the inside business edge of my left buttock. 

Which leaves me wincing every time I sit, stand, shift, bend, or generally let my heart beat.  I keep telling my brain stem to shut down my heart, but it won't listen to me.  Drat!

It gets worse. 

Since the swelling is protruding into my butt cleavage, it continually makes me feel like I need to go "powder my nose"  (ummm... who do you think you are fooling, proper ladies? such a ridiculous expression).  But when I get in there, I realize my "nose" is just fine.  TMI for some of you (and I have one particular face in mind right now....), I am sure.

Let me tell you, there is nothing quite like continuously massaging your left butt cheek in a roomful of people.  And not even caring.  Because your butt is having a seizure all of its own, and it really MUST be stopped.  Rub, rub. rub.  "Oh hi, so-and-so's husband, Don't mind me, I'm having butt problems."  Rub, rub, rub.  Knead, knead, knead.

Additionally, I felt like a complete roller spaz last night.  First, my wheels felt slick, so I felt like I was fighting to stay upright ALL. NIGHT.  LONG.  I felt like I resembled Bambi when he stepped out on the ice with Thumper.  And Thumper laughed uproariously in Bambi's face.  Not my favorite.

Next, halfway through a drill where we voluntarily flung ourselves to the ground, I looked at my hands and noticed I was NOT wearing my wrist guards.  Uh... hello.  One of my best friends on the planet broke both bones in her right arm while skating, and I even wear my wrist guards when I session skate.  Wrist guards are essential for safety.  Where was my brain?  It must be with that coral tank top I can't find.  Completely MIA.

I skated off the floor and fetched my guards post haste.  And was thankful that I had not broken a bone in the first part of practice. 

I returned just in time for the next round of the body flinging exercise.  And when I threw myself to the ground and rolled over, my toe stop came off.  And that makes me panic a LITTLE because now I have lost both my brain and my toe stop.  And if you can't find your brain, you have great difficulty screwing your toe stop back in. 

I hate my left toe stop.  I must rely on it heavily, or it wouldn't keep coming out.  After last night, we are no longer on speaking terms.  I feel a strong need to end that relationship.  "You know, I can't trust you to be there when I need you, so I'm going to have to replace you...."

I stood there expecting my bra strap to break or my pants to spilt right up the middle because that's what kind of a night it was.  And I'm not really a Janet Jackson Halftime Spectacle kind of girl.

During scrimmage time (when my gluteal injury occurred), all the rules of the game that I had just read were rolling around in my head.  Every time I read them, a little more sticks, but, honestly, I'm on a little bit of information overload right now.  I'm trying to keep all the rules straight in my brain.  And, you know, I tend to be a strict adherer to the rules in *most* areas of my life.  So, when I break a rule or think I have, I will do what I can to correct myself or the situation.  It's an almost automatic response. 

Except, when a derby player *thinks* she has stepped out on the inside edge and removes herself from play in the middle of a jam to *correct* her actions, it *might* let the opposing jammer score unnecessary points.  And it did.  And the ref looked at me like I was nuts because she knew I had not even stepped outside the line. 

There was video of the whole scrimmage.  Awesome. 

When I got bumped, I apparently DANGLED my skate over the line.  Which you can do all day long if you want.  And when I put the dangling skate back on the ground, I crossed over my right skate. So, I was fine the whole time.

And there were no whistles blown, so I don't know why I removed myself from play.  A normal person would just keep skating if they didn't hear the whistle.  I guess the drills to teach us to not cut the track sunk in a little too deep.

I tend to be an overthinker and overanalyzer, so all the things the trainers and coaches have said are in my head swirling around simultaneously.  And they keep coming out in the weirdest ways...

At least I knew the reason why you need to skate fast to the penalty box (because your time in the box doesn't start until you get in the box)...  That's one point for me for the night.  And eighty-nine for the rink.  It was almost a shutout.

Body, equipment, brain... Apparently, it was a night for all-around Reckless malfunction. 

P.S. I'm not giving up.  We all have off days.  I'm sure next practice will be better.  It couldn't get much worse...

P.P.S.  Yes, I know I'm a little whiny. Sue me. I'll win.  My lawyer is amazing.
P.P.S.S. Favorite derby quotes from last week and this week...

"I think I hurt my labia."

"I smell like Fritos." "Yeah, you do."

"Not bad for a hoochie."  And yes, I was the hoochie.

P.P.P...oh, screw the post-script nonsense, I still love derby and can't wait for the next practice.  I hope I can walk by then...