I'm going to post this... I don't know where it's going, but it will end up on my page.
Good Grief! I missed my blogs first birthday. Pardon the absence... life got crazy and I couldn't write a coherent sentence, let alone a post. There are a shit-ton of new drafts saved though. I got to work today and decided, I'm going to write for 30 minutes and I'm going to post; no matter what.
I spent last night at Pretty Boy's football banquet. WooHoo!
I'm soooo not a "soccer mom". I go to work at 6am, come home, cook dinner, drink a glass of wine, fold laundry, bathe a monkey, feed my horses, and try to make sure the kids did their homework before they got on Facebook, MySpace, and XBox.
I apparently was the only "team mom" who fit this description. They all sat together at one table, wearing black and orange, with the same damn haircut; a couple of dad's, who didn't get to stay home and watch the Steelers game, sat another; and the team, of course, sat together. (wow. that was alot of commas and semi-colons. If I were a little less lazy I would check a reference book. But seriously, I'm not kidding anyone.) The Cowboy and I sat together at the back table, clapped for each kid, and faded into the scenery.
You see, we moved the night before school started so Pretty Boy joined the team about a month late...
I know I never wrote about the wedding and moving and how both of those incredible life altering events took place within 2 weeks of each other.
I may eventually get around to that, perhaps when I no longer wake up at 2am in a cold sweat, frantic, shaking, curled up in the fetal position and wondering why in the hell I left my apartment 2 years ago in search of a "more dignified, simpler, life".
Cowboys do weird things to women. Something about the Wranglers and scuffed up boots; the crinkle in the corner of their eye when they smile. The smell of horses, fresh air, and lush acreage. It's a spell I tell you, a damned spell. They enchant you and get you to lose all your sences then POOF! Next thing you know you're married, with kids and horses and dogs and cats and acreage; and the Cowboy doesnt want to get off the couch except to come to dinner and grab another beer ... ...
(deep breath.)
(smile. blush. smile again.)
Where was I? Ah yes... football
Pretty Boy joined the team the 2nd week of school. You might know that football practice starts in August, sometimes late July, so we weren't there for all of the getting to know you, fundraising, team building bru-ha-ha. He only got to play in 2 games and, being the awesome hard working mom that I am, I'm only going to leave work early to embark on a 45 minute hell ride, to watch a game that he is going to get to play in.
I mean really, if I want to watch him stand around and act like an idiot, I can do that from the comfort of my kitchen and be making dinner and laughing with the children who actually like me.
So basically, the "banquet" was long, and boring, and most of the moms gave me "the look" when we walked in 5 minutes late because we didn't know where the damn media room was. We probably shouldnt have even bothered going, but then we'd be "those" parents. We're new in town; I was kind of hoping to meet the parents of some of the kids, that will be getting arrested with Pretty Boy in the next couple of years, before the inevitable 2am encounter at the Police Station.
Maybe I should try to get more involved with wrestling from the beginning...
... ... ...
(snicker.)
(snort.)
Cause that'll happen.
~cheers!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
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