Rich in the morning, rich in the evening

As we drove back from R's last soccer game today, we were waiting at a light near our house. I got the wits scared out of me as a woman with a child about 8 years old came right to my window. She asked me for money to buy eggs and milk and bread -- i could buy them -- she just didn't have any food. She was standing right in the middle of the street holding this young girl's hand, in the rain. While I tried to quiet my heart, the light turned green, and I told her to get to the sidewalk, it wasn't safe for her to be in the street. She apologized, and went to the curb. I drove home. I watched her watch me drive away. I walked in the back door, and there were my three large bags full of bread, english muffins and buns for the soccer party tomorrow, and that I buy every few weeks and throw in the freezer from the Oroweat outlet. I buy the whole wheat bread there, though I know it's not the best- it's the best they make. (ironically called Best !!)
I took two loaves, some english muffins, two oranges, and and looked around our house. We didn't have very much of any quantity to give her, but for once I had cash in my wallet. I left the boys with George, got back in the car and drove back to the intersection. Damned if the two of them weren't sitting right where I told them to go, and were waiting for me.
I got out of the car, and the girl said she knew I was coming back, while the mom said, "see, there ARE good people in the world!" I gave her the bag of bread, and the 13 dollars I had, to buy milk and eggs. I said that I hoped she would find other ways to support herself, and she said she had applied for all kinds of assistance, but was waiting -- and had nothing to eat.
I drove away in my warm car, and hoped it helped at least a little. We are overflowing with so much here on the corner, I am constantly grateful for the abundance in our lives.
Even after visiting our friends who have a very. big. house. with all sorts of wonderful things in it, I can still feel that we are so fortunate to be exactly where we are. In our sturdy walls, with our little family safely inside and lots of food to fill our bellies.

Trophies, part two

So, you ask, what did you do about the trophies? Answer: Nothing.
At least outwardly.
I hoped maybe we would have something legitimate come up, and we would miss the event. I hoped that somehow the parents would drop the ball... I told G basically what I wrote here and he told me that I was effing crazy, and that I should just lock up the kids if I want to avoid this sort of thing. He actually looked a little crazy telling me that I was so crazy!
So I did exactly nothing (except keep my mouth shut, which then again... is something HUGE). The season carried on, the boys did quite well playing soccer together. They had a great coach, who is fun and even tempered, and able to let them do their learning and gave them great support. Most of the families came to every game! This surprised me, apparently everyone else was much more okay with this thing every friday at 5 and half the day Sat.

My parents came to some games, G was into it, I made it to none of the early games, and all of the later ones, and the boys were just adorable. They were really invested in playing, and trying out how it feels to have the upper or lower hand. they were much more evenly matched this year, and there were some games where they weren't sure if they won or lost.

I thought more about this too. (side note) why exactly don't we keep score? I think it's so that the focus doesn't become goals, but come on. EVERY young kid you know wants to know whether they are winning and losing. So I think we lost a lot of opportunities to talk about how it feels when you are the one losing, and to model that behavior with that context. There was definitely some of that, but maybe next year that will happen. I don't know when they start keeping score.

The parents in charge of the "trophy" went to the store with their son, and he picked out a star shaped medallion (about an inch and a half)with a picture of soccer balls in the middle. the ribbon also had soccer balls. so it was a little star shaped neck thing. and it was just totally fine by me. All the boys got to have one at the pizza party after the last game, (yes, i even paid the three dollars) and now R wears it sometimes and thinks about his team. Mostly, I think he likes swinging it around his neck.
Two talented dads teamed up and took pictures of the boys kicking the ball at the games, (action shots) and then made them into little player cards, so now the boys have pics of all their friends.
When they got their necklaces, each boy was told something they did well, and then we gave the coach a gift card to REI.

All the parents and siblings came, it was very social and chaotic and it was a very nice time.


The moral of my story to myself is, to shut the ef up, and watch first. If I had made a protest, it would have made the whole thing so much worse. Thank goodness I have you to suffer through my tortured rant.

Would I do medals my own self? I will answer this the way I answer about food, because now I'm getting better about that too. It matters less what we are eating, if we are gathered together with friends or family. The benefit far outweighs the deconstruction of bonds that tie us together when we throw up walls or refuse outright. If I have my choice, well, then I will do what I can to also hold true to my commitment to food that has been raised consciously, and is connected to me in a meaningful way. And that makes a get-together even more enjoyable.

I am guessing there will be many more of these events. R loves playing, and its fun for him to be physical and have a great guide in his coach. He has been surrounded by me, and many females, and looks as though that may continue at his school, so for him to get to be with his coach, and his dad-that's really important.

Next topic? violence at schools of course. My Knight-loving, shield-brandishing boy, in the montessori environment.
This will wait for another day, when I get fired up enough and pull out all of my research about boys and unload here so I can stay quiet at school. Hey. this could really work out, I may save myself and our family a lot of grief!

Maybe I'm finally understanding that teaching "do nothing", isn't that buddhist? or am i making it up?

Illustrated by

technical difficulties.
I can't get a picture from my phone to this screen. I have now loaded it three ways on my computer, and the web, and I can't find it.
sigh.
lame post for today then, huh.
time to check on the laundry

Plus Six!

Visual Aides

benefits of waiting

So, for some of my (five) dear readers, it will seem utterly sensible that I kept the placentas from both boys' births in the freezer. We were waiting to be able to plant them under a tree, hopefully on a new piece of land that we would own. Well, we had lots of hopes over the last years about some goals that we'd like to meet.
We really wanted to expand the house for a second floor, for more information, see various tortured writings earlier on, when it was still in the rotation. We really really wanted a place, some land, to call ours, and to plant a little yurt on. We had several grumpy new years, one particularly memorable after Rowan was born, when I was being my normal list-happy self and asked George what kind of goals he wanted to write on the list. He, in a foul manner i may add, said that he was writing NO LIST because the thing he wanted still hadn't changed!
Well, yes.
So, as you can see, there will be no list again for George, because we didn't get a magic pass to get land. BUT.
A few years ago, our beautiful, old crabapple that took up the back half of the yard got fireblight and died slowly. We denied it a long while, until one of the large limbs fell off while we were in the front yard. (thank goodness)
As my wonderful friend in CT said, maybe good, maybe bad. Well, it opened up the whole back of the yard when George put on his chainsaw pants and went to town, and then tortured his body by using a huge stumpgrinder to take apart the stump. (picture a large circular blade bouncing up and down on burled, hard old wood stump)
We sparred over what would go back there:
me, GARDEN BEDS! CHICKEN COOP!
george, NONONO, COMPOST BIN,PLAY GYM, ROOM FOR SOCCER and GRASS!
somehow, as often happens, we found the middle ground, got a new garden bed, a chicken coop, a compost bin, a new play structure (as the boys call it) room for soccer AND grass! yowza!
and then a couple of shade-less years went past, me demanding fruit trees! and eventually just asking for ANY TREES! A tree for mothers day! a tree for graduation! a tree for my birthday!
And as the year is now winding up, I turned another year older, and the placentas filled out their 5 and 3 year marks in our freezer (well noted on the package) George DUG HOLES!
And then and then, this very day he moved the car seats to the jeep, packed up the boys and came home with two beautiful trees. a pear, and some kind of purple leaf cherry. Neither make fruit for people, but both flower in the spring. !! We don't think we can fight the insane squirrels in the area, even if we actually shoot all the ones we can see. (we don't shoot them, though I wish I did sometimes)
The boys each assigned themselves a tree. Naturally Rowan took the bigger one, the pear, and Milo, the red-leafed cutie. I couldn't believe it was happening, but took the placentas out of their long home at the bottom of the freezer, and let them defrost. George dug and dug and prepared, and measured, and tamped, and dug and mixed soil and dug (in the hot sun). The boys watched from their perch on the play structure. I took lots of pictures. We let the sausages on teh grill cook too long, because now all of a sudden we have more than an hour less of sunshine, and set the root balls in the beautifully constructed holes over the top of their buried placentas, and voila! we have new family members here on the corner. They will keep us good company, and I will try my damndest to get them water so that they can thrive.
The benefit of waiting was that each boy helped cover his placenta (and yes, they know what they are) and then watched as this tree was set over top. it was like a little belly button in reverse! May these trees grow strong, and well, and old.
And our little boys too.

Even grandpas get them

The boys' grandfather goes to tournaments all over, and does trap shooting, and has really gotten into it lately. Last one was hosted in their hometown, so naturally he had to be there.
What did he get for competing? why. A TROPHY of course.