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Sunday, May 15, 2011

Little league vs. piano league

We had a weekend of firsts. First weekend of little league and our first piano recital. It was also Don's birthday and I will get to that.  I couldn't help but notice the sharp contrast of the company I was in. Friday night Don and I went to a new Mexican restaurant. I always feel at home or at casa in these places. I suspect that in a former life I was a fat catholic mexican woman with at least 15 kids who stayed at home cooking tortillas all day.  I seem to have the culture (and margaritas) in my blood. Even though my Mexican self would probably be deeply offended by that comment.  Once I saw a photo of a women who looked like me in a day of the dead celebration..just saying.  After, we went to a dive bar which is the most authentic place in town. Nobody is there putting on airs. Nobody is grinding in the corner. Its just a bar, with a juke box, darts and  shuffle board.  Don dominates the music to ensure we don't have to listen to country. His selections range from Tom Petty to Queen and I even threw in a little James, Laid for good measure. There were a total of 9 people including the bartender.  A couple who seemed to have rolled out of  Wal-Mart, muffin tops and all. A rough thin old guy sitting at the end smoking a cigarette, another rough chubby old man sitting at the other end, who happened to trip walking in , which caused me to obnoxiously laugh and pretend that Don had just said something funny. And lastly, two couples playing darts.  I couldn't help but notice one of the guys glancing over at me every 3 minutes.  He didn't see me as the mom of 4, he saw me as a hot young-ish thing enjoying a night with my boyfriend, (not my husband of almost 10 years.) And who did NOT arrive in a honda Odyssey.
The two hours flew by like ten minutes.
The next day I went to Finegan's first T-ball game.  People that don't know me would probably think I was a bit stand offish. The truth is, I'm shy and until I really get to know you, I'm pretty quiet. That is the case most of the time. In this case, I just didn't want to talk to them. I'm there to watch a suspenseful fast paced t-ball game, not socialize. And people watch, or as I call it observe.   To my left is a mom and her sister, aunt, friend, and whoever else lives in their house, with a two year old little girl. This girl whined the entire game and they kept her quiet by giving her packaged crackers and processed cheese and hi-C, (excellent selection ma'am). To my right was a mom crying whenever her son hit the ball off the T. I can't knock her too much, but at least don't announce to anyone who is listening that you are crying.  At one point I had to get out of my seat and walk to the right field fence to tell Fin to stop doing everything in slow motion.  He does this 40 min. into any game because of 3 reasons
1. He is too hot.
2. His _______ hurts.
3. He is tired.
He literally moves like he is in the Matrix.
When I returned I glanced to my right were a family had camped out with chairs and a cooler. The games are 60 min. maximum. It wasn't lunch time. They had a smorgasbord of hot dogs, popcorn and nachos.  As a former mexican I take offense to calling round tortilla chips covered in cheese whiz nachos.  They also had huge cokes.
Is it any wonder why we are the most obese nation?   By the time it ended it was starting to rain and Parker had a game at that exact time. Don dropped the 2 younger ones off with me.  There I was standing in now a down pour with a baby, a flight risk 3 year old and a 6 year old who was in slow motion while Don stood under a tent with Parker.  In retrospect Don said  "it wasn't the smartest decision" and my Dad reminded him that if I'm anything like my mother, I will bring it up 25 years later when he least expects it...he is right...and I will.
Its not easy dodging cars backing up in a parking lot that was designed by a blind person.
With that behind me I looked forward to Sunday.  We missed the recital rehearsal because of little league, but arrived early to get a little rehearsal in before the " performance". It took place in an Episcopal church and the piano is to the right in a choir "hutch". The entire audience had to look to the right while facing forward. The boys played 2 songs each. They were back to back. Altogether, with getting to the piano, bowing and taking their seat the total time was 2  1/2 minutes.  The entire concert was one hour and 40 min. Or the equivalent to 3 days when you are sitting with a 3 and 1 year old. Don't let strange rain-man like piano instructors fool you, they are making the big bucks. There were at least 25 performers at $25/ 30 min. each, once a week...one savvy business lady.  My parents dutifully attend all music events for their grandchildren, for my mom its time to revel in their virtuosity and for my dad its a great time to nap. My mom pointed out that when my boys are older they are going to be the hit of any party, what, with their piano playing and tap dancing.  Sure if they take a time machine back to 1951, maybe Dick Van dyke will be there doing some crazy chalk drawings too.  If there was the polar opposite of the baseball crowd it was this crowd. The ability to sit for an hour and 40 min. without food, water, and in silence is amazing, except mine who were snacking on dumb dumbs ( excellent selection dumbass) . We were the rebels in this crowd.  Fin insisted he had to pee even though he went before and had consumed about a thimble ounce of juice prior.  He was gone for an extended time and when he returned he went in the wrong door which placed him wondering right in front of the performer looking shocked and lost.  This caused me to get the church giggles which sent us further into rebel status.  After listening to a family of five with the same bowl haircuts and pleaded pants, the recital was over.
My parents suggested we go to celebrate Don's birthday and the recitals.
You would think that I would know that taking kids to a restaurant to sit and wait after they have been sitting 24 hours ( in kid time) and then 2 hours (in kid car time) would be a recipe  for disaster, but I didn't. I was hungry. Something about church makes me hungry, maybe its my soul emotional guilt eating.
It was just as I had suspected, but rather than reflect the entire disaster dinner, I will give you the highlights.
Don takes Jack away from the table. Jack screams. Don threatens. Jack laughs. Dad says What? I glare at Jack. Oscar head bangs the table. Parker orders ribs. Finegan announces he likes the taste of beer. Jack falls back in his chair and the entire restaurant comes to a silent stand still. After seeing that Don and I didn't rush to his rescue a man next to our table jumps out of his seat. Only to discover that the "unconscious" Jack is only playing opossum because he knows that if he gets up he is in really big trouble.
Check please.

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