Monday, June 27, 2011

Father's Day from the Mouth of Bonus

I'm a little behind on this, but I thought it was only fair to share the answers Bonus gave for Mr. Incredible...

"My Dad"

My dad's name is [Mr. Incredible].  Good job, baby boy.  You also know Daddy has a name other than Daddy (or "Sir" if you are in trouble).

He is 39  Correct, again!

and weighs a million pounds.  Perhaps a little on the high side, but he probably seems that big to you.  And it does feel like a million pounds if he sits on you.  I would know. 

His eyes are blue

and his hair is brown.   Daddy still likes to think of himself as a blond, so ix-nay on the rown-bay.

His favorite color is dark blueClose enough.

He loves to clean and play Wii.  Once again, it is Bonus who loves to play Wii.  Mr. Incredible might like things to be clean, but I would not go so far as to say that he loves to clean....

While I'm at school, he worksYes.  And then some...

and he just loves to eat macaroniKid, what's with the macaroni?

I hope all the dads out there had a wonderful day.  Maybe you were as "lucky" as Mr. Incredible and got taken to Chuck E. Cheese (by Bonus) because you love to play the basketball game with your son. ;)

Friday, June 24, 2011

Hair-Rah!

Love. 
And you didn't think I would do it. 

Rats.  You can't see my neon green feather.  You can see that my hair is now ponytail length (that's an inside joke for my mom and sister).  One step closer to rock star hair.   

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Win Win

Totally late on the congratulations to Miss Noteworthy and the Mustangs...  She is leaving softball on the top.  League champions and tournament winners.

Now, she can move on to other endeavors like makeup and boyfriends...


Blah, blah, blah. Show us the trophies.



Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Walking Up in the Middle of a Conversation...

You never know what you will hear at practice that is completely inappropriate if you take it out of context. Quotes that I unintentionally set myself up for this week:


Me: "I'm inside of you." (communicating that I'm passing someone on the inside of the track.)
Teamate: "That's what he said."


Oh dear.


And then,

Me: "When we get around the corner, I'll do you." (meaning that I would give her a push after the turn)


Teamate: raised eyebrow, follwed by giggle

We are supposed to communicate when we are playing, but I think I'm going to keep my mouth shut until I can refrain from saying things that can be misconstrued.
Favorite quote from Saturday's practice:

"I only have, like, a hundred sets of wheels, so I can match all my outfits."

I heart my trainer.



Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Practice Makes Progress

Practice totally rawked last night.  Off da hook.  Or chain.  Or whatev young whippersnappers say these days.  In my day we would have said, "Practice was SOOOO RAD.  Tubular.  Awesome.  To the max, dude." 

I think 99% of us were in agreement about this.  New girls, new coach, new merchandise, new news!!!!  Sorry can't share details yet, but I will as soon as I get security clearance.  Just keep your fall calendar open until I can blurt without fear.

Last night was a workout fer shur, but it was also a blazing inferno in the rink.  I was dripping with sweat to the point that sweat literally dripped off the end of my ponytail.  I was soaked to the skin.  I'm not generally much of a sweat-er.  I'm usually that girl who glistens.  But, I sweated my butt off last night (wouldn't it be awesome if it really worked that way?  "Excuse me, I need to wipe my butt off the floor for you so you don't slip."). 

I'm actually starting to like jumps.  I'm still not getting more than a couple of inches off the ground, but I'm getting more clearance than I used to.  And it's not scaring me anymore.  I just do it.  I didn't even teeter on my landings last night.

Two games of Queen of the Track were played; in one we skated in the regular direction and the other in the opposite direction.  No, I didn't win last night, but I hung in there for a long time both rounds.  I used to be one of the first to get knocked out.  I even voluntarily hit Ella Vader, which is really saying something since she wins pretty much every. single. time. we play.  She was kind to my little self and didn't hit back; thanks for not sending me to the ER!  Can I say that hitting Ella Vader is like smacking into a concrete wall at top speed?  You know it won't be pretty, but sometimes you just can't stop yourself in time. I didn't fall or trip or trip her (I also didn't move her an inch, but you gotta start somewhere).

Plus, I got an ultra sweet compliment about my endurance.  I don't feel like I have improved that much in that area, but it made my heart smile anyway.  Perhaps I can improve my twenty lap time this Wednesday.  I'll be sure to let you know.  Our trainers are fantastically encouraging.  Props, props, and more props to these wonderful people.

When I was in college, I cut this very add out of a magazine and hung it on my dorm room door and later on a bulletin board in my room in my apartment; this ad was part of a Nike campaign aimed at women.  Regardless of how you feel about Nike, I think most women can relate to these words. I have saved it all these years because it nicely sums up the way I feel about being categorized by my size or shape or age.



Word.


Statistic do lie.  I'm not a 36-24-36 (and chances are I never will be and I have been extremely honest about my measurements on my "Taking It Off" page ). 

I am more than inches, an age, and a list of numbers.  AM trying to be the best person I can and along the way I am simply loving me some roller derby. After nearly forty years of walking, sometimes I still can't walk up the stairs without tripping, but I am slowly gaining new skills and improving with each roller derby practice. I may not be a rawk stah skay-tah, but I am proud of myself and my teammates and my league.  I'm amazed at how far we have come since February.  I'm certainly nowhere close to perfect and never will be, but it's a start.  A fine start.  Who needs statistics if I have heart.  I would always rather be defined by my heart and by the way I love and treat people.  Let me be measured by my progress.

... And possibly my attendance record.  Showing up always counts for something.


Monday, June 13, 2011

Naked Discipline

Summer's here, and I have started it in the most embarrassing way possible.

Yes, you guessed it. 

I was accidentally bottomless at the community pool. 

[Deep breath.]

On Saturday after a good workout at roller derby practice I took Bonus, RNR, and Miss Noteworthy up to the pool in our neighborhood just as I do practically everyday for the first month of summer.  We were meeting my most fabulous neighbor Kernsie and a couple of her kids.  We had also invited another family to join us, but, thankfully, they were running a little late and did not show up at exactly noon.  Or that dad would have gotten an eyeful.

Bonus was swimming inside two tubes and wanted additional flotation.  And, of course, he asked his mama to get him the blow-up snake.  Well, I had fetched plenty for him already, and I had just sat back down.  I told him that if he wanted more toys that he could get them himself.

I'm going to spare you all the gory details that followed.  Long story short, Bonus had a complete meltdown that required me to get into the pool and retrieve his kicking and screaming body.

It was quite a wrestling match, but I managed to yank extract him from the pool and sit him on my chaise lounge.

I told him he was going to have to sit out of the pool for a bit because he needed to get control of himself and choose nicer words.  He didn't really like my idea and started screaming at me at the top of his lungs.  I decided that we needed to take our little sideshow to the restroom to give us a chance to talk and him a chance to get control. 

This is where things started to turn a bit ugly. 

I started toward the restroom with Bonus in full tirade.

In an attempt to get back in the pool and escape the talking-to he was about to receive in the restroom, Bonus grabbed the tie on my super cute, super small string bikini bottoms...

...and pulled.

Let's just say that I showed a little more at the pool that day than I had intended.

Bonus tried to make a fast get away.  With both the ties on the left side of my bottoms in hand, I gave full chase.

Yes, I ran at top speed across the pool deck in my state of undress after Mr. Incredible's son.  I'm sure it was quite a sight to behold, and I am most thankful that the event was not digitally recorded.  As far as I know.

That little stunt cut the pool day short for Bonus.  I called Mr. Incredible and had him pick up his child and take him home.

After Bonus' tearful departure, Kernsie taught me a couple of mad ninja skills to use on Bonus in case he decides to disrobe me in public again.  You never know when a little jujitsu might come in handy.  And now I could break your arm if I really wanted to, so back off!

As if the broad sunlight display of my nether regions was not quite enough, I then had a pair of dragonflies that insisted on mating on my shoulder.  Of course, RNR noticed the insect copulation immediately and wanted me to explain why the two dragonflies were connected.  Fabulous.  Round two of sex-ed for the day.

Then, we caught a female child we know enjoying the pool's water jet a little bit inappropriately and had to rip her away from her fun as she explained rather loudly that she liked it.  Ahem...

I finally decided that we should probably pack it up for the day before "the twins (not identical)" made an unexpected appearance.  I have to leave some mystery for my neighbors...


Thursday, June 9, 2011

And the Crowd Goes Wild...

Okay, not really, but we did end practice by shouting "Reckless!" as we broke the huddle (Thanks for throwing that out there, Louie!).

Can I just say that:

1). Derby people are fabulous.  These peeps are some of the most encouraging and accepting people I know.  It's nice that we can all celebrate each other's successes.

2). Derby is more fun than should be legal.  Really, if you've ever even slightly thought about trying out for a derby league, you should. 

3).  I'm not super competitive, but, like everyone else, if I get to win a game, it truly rocks.

4).  I can't believe I actually won the game!!!!  I may have been the most shocked person in the whole rink.  And yeah, I did kinda high five myself and yell, "Yes!" when I knew I had won.  Which is not something I would normally do.  But, me winning Queen of the Track is not even close to normal... 

In this game, all the skaters get on the track and start skating.  When the whistle is blown, we start skating and hitting each other.  If you skate outside the track or fall, you're out.

There were a couple of supa' rawk stah skay-tahs who were not in da' house tonight, and that greatly improved my chances.  Plus, none of the men were skating tonight, so that helped as well.  When it was down to just five of us on the track, three went down in a single collision (I was nowhere near them, so no one can blame me this time...).   So, I hit the last girl, and she went outside the lines.

Which meant I was the last girl on the track.  Which means that I won a DVD of Blood on the Flat Track.

For this one night I get to be Queen of the Track.  It may have been a fluke, and it may never happen again. 

But tonight it happened, and I feel like a bonafide derby girl.  Whoot!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Indoor Swimming Only?

Dear Betsey Johnson,

After summers of coveting your suits in Nordstrom, I finally broke down and plunked down the copious amounts of hard, cold cash you require for ownership of your swimwear.

Worth. Every. Penny.   I may not actually look like a pin up girl in my suit, but I am comfortable in it and do indeed feel glamorous.  I bought the red one piece with a bow on top and ruffles on the bottom.  Modest but flirty.  Cute but still sophisticated.  Since I know it is a sample and I haven't seen this particular suit in any store, I am fairly certain you designed it with me in mind.  Thanks for that, Betsey.  It fits perfectly.  I already have my eye on another of your suits and will be looking for it to go on sale.

This morning I took a moment to read the care label inside my suit.  I have spent some time at the pool in the past week, and I want to make sure I am properly caring for my investment.  No Bleach--makes perfect sense.  Do Not Iron.  I'm not much of an ironer, so no worries on that one, Betsey.  Hand wash in cold water.  Okay, I can handle that.  However, I'm a little perplexed at this final little piece of instruction:

LINE DRY IN SHADE

Is my new suit afraid of the sun?

Really, Betsey?  Really?

Monday, June 6, 2011

Summer Lovin'

Since last week, we have a boyfriend.  Which means we have been giggling and smiling from ear-to-ear nonstop.  And we are Boyfriend's first girlfriend.  So it is extra cute and extra sweet.  And the texts are a little extra hilarious for me to read.

As there are only four more days of school, I asked Miss Noteworthy if she thought she and Boyfriend would be able to make it until the last day of school without meeting the usual middle school relationship fate of a breakup after one week.  She thinks they will make it well into the summer.  Maybe longer.

Her previous middle school attempt at romance lasted for about fifteen minutes.  They both admitted they liked each other, and then it got weird.  They quickly decided they would just be friends without ever entering into a boyfriend-girlfriend contract. 

Boyfriend asked in person if she would go out with him.  There were no go-betweens and no notes asking her to check "yes", "no", or "maybe".   There was no hemming and hawing or beating around the bush.  Most impressive.  I think we may have a man in the making here.

Friday, June 3, 2011

An Eight Wheeled Butt Kicking

Signs that roller derby practice was a beating...

...Deciding to forego shaving your legs in the shower the next morning because you would have to lift your leg and bend over.  Which is pretty serious because you were going to the pool and knew people would actually see that the hairs on your legs need braiding.

...Having to think about the best way to put on panties.  Normally, this is an almost unconscious act.  I just grab some out of the drawer, and presto!  they are magically on my body.  This morning I started to bend in the middle and thought "this isn't going to work."  I had to do the put-the-panties-on-the-floor-and-fish-for-the-leg-hole-with-your-foot-and-wiggle-them-up-your-leg maneuver.  It takes longer.  It takes effort and thought.  It takes skills.  Thank goodness I have skills, or I might have had to throw on a dress and go commando.   

...Considering if it is possible to refrain from going to the bathroom for an entire day.  Because sitting down on the seat makes you wince like a big baby.  And hovering is not any better (before you make that suggestion).  Wait until the last possible second and nearly pee all over yourself.  More than once.  Wonder if the Chinese don't have something with their stand over a hole method... 

...Reaching for the Advil before you hit snooze.  Seriously.

...Standing up and turning around with your whole body instead of quickly twisting your body to reach for something behind you.

...Unable to remember how many times you fell during practice.  You just know that after you fell on your stomach and were unable to breathe in Last Man Out that the rest of the practice is largely a blur.  Your guess is as good as mine when and where the bruises on my hand and arm happened. 

...Getting an elbow to the face and just being relieved that you didn't break your leg.  Or get your nose broken.  Or break your wrist.  Or have your hand rolled over. 

...Having someone else's Sharpie marks on your clothes.  My neon pink Reckless shirt will forever bear the smudges of Six Foot Thunder's number 73.  Unless one of you has a cool laundry tip for getting out Sharpie.  Let me hear from you domestic goddesses.  Blood removal tips might come in handy, too.  Let's just get me prepared in advance for this little eventuality.

...Thinking that doing countless sit-ups and push-ups was a break or a breather.  Even strangely relaxing. 

...Not even caring that the wet sponges under your armpits were just under someone else's armpits.  You just care that they don't fall out of your armpits. 

North Texas Ladies...  Wanna learn more about roller derby?  Wondering if you have what it takes?  Want to see what a practice looks like before you commit yourself?  Send me an email at recklesshousewifeblog(at)gmail(dot)com, and I will get you hooked up with the right people.