They Don't Understand Sarcasm

The boys had a huge yet expected meltdown as we so cruelly tore them away from Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead this past Saturday, where we had attended a friend's birthday party. While buckling them into their seats, they were both fake-crying at the top of their little lungs and causing quite a noise.

Dad said to them, "Wow - you guys are great actors. You should go to Hollywood."

The crying immediately ceased, their interest piqued. Anyplace but home had to be better.

"We want to go to Hollywood!"

They Remember Everything We Say

Overheard this morning as I was getting ready for work...

J: N, stop telling me your questions! You're driving me nuts!

Almost A Dream Job

(Remember how I told you all about N's storytelling installments? He's still going strong...)

The scene: Riding in the van with Daddy on the way to swim at the YMCA.

The players: Daddy, N and J

N: Look Daddy! (Pointing out the window.) That's my yellow house! That's where me and my friend Davin work.

Daddy: Oh, uh, okay. So what do you and Davin do when you work?

N: We play video games. But Davin only has one controller so we have to share.

Vindication!

Last night's soccer match was a success! With the starting whistle, N was on the field like a flash. He ran up and down the field, elbowing his fellow pre-schoolers out of his path. He kicked, he dribbled, he passed (albeit unintentionally). He did not score. Oh well. His one complaint: "Mommy, the other kids aren't sharing!"

J, on the other hand. Oh J.

J did not want to participate at all - much like last week's game. He stood with me on the sidelines as I jumped and cheered like a freaking maniac for my other soccer monster out on the field. He was NOT happy that his twin brother was enjoying himself: "Mommy, N needs to come over and stop playing." I patiently tried to explain that N was having fun and that J should do the same. J was not convinced.

At halftime, N ran over, sweating profusely and very red in the face (yes, those must be my non-athletic genes coming through), ready for a water break. I tried again to convince J to get out there and play and, to my surprise, he agreed. He went out with N and stood with his team for the kick-off to start the second 15-minute half.

The ball dropped.

There was much kicking and pushing in the swarm herd.

Then, out of the pack came J! He had the ball and was kicking it down the field toward the goal, alone in his burst of speed!

He kicked toward the goal and SCORE! J made a goal!

Then J threw himself on the ground and burst into tears.

And that was the end of J's magnificent soccer career. He refused to play again for the rest of the game.

Oh - and by then, my camera batteries were dead.

Soccer - Part Duh

So we had our first soccer game last Wednesday. It was EXTREMELY cold and very wet. I did not want to be outside at all. We were bundled up as much as possible, with hats and mittens and several layers under the jerseys. And yet, the game was not called off. The brave parents dragged their children to the field (some literally kicking and screaming - the kids, I mean, not the parents) and yet, still the game was not called. The coach even apologized for the game not being called.

And so we began the game.

There were not enough kids to create a full a team for each side, so we combined and Operation Swarm Ball commenced. My friend S was there with her hubby Z and her twin boys C and Z. C and Z have not been all that enthusiastic about soccer practice thus far. They have had to be seriously cajoled into participating. But when the coach blew the whistle, C and Z were off and playing! Who knew they just really wanted to play soccer? And not be bothered with practicing and refining their art? They were out there on the FREEZING WET field, running, kicking, falling down and generally being the adorable soccer stars we all knew they would be.

And my guys? The boys who had thus far participated in soccer practice pretty well? They refused to play. They held onto my legs and kind of cried/whined their way through the 15-minute game, refusing to even stand on the field with their team. When I placed J in the soccer goal and told him to try out being a goalie, he complied for approximately two minutes, until the swarm came running toward him at which point he burst into tears and ran out.

I definitely think they're ready for t-ball.

It's Spring!

Monday evening was one of the best nights I have ever experienced as a mom. Extremely cheesy, but true. The boys went to their first soccer practice. Their friends, Z and C, were on the team as well - so adorable! Go Blue Team!

They loved it. Oh yes, there were a few moments of N refusing to stand in line again and running off to pout in the field, alone. There were a few moments when J wanted to cut in line (okay, that was continual). But overall, they loved it. I loved it. It was a blast. I wish it went on longer than the three weeks it's set up for. I think I can officially say this, (and I might get a little teary here, both from emotion and disgust), I may actually be a soccer mom. Does it count if I am pretty much playing soccer myself? Considering how much running around, kicking, dribbling and general coaxing/convincing I had to do, I got a pretty good workout.

Another quick pic from the boys - they love to build. And make faces. Maybe not in that particular order.