Sometimes fun is hard work

My body is so tired from tonight's game (4-1 win, yeah!) that it's almost as tired as it was last week when I played 2 Red games in a row (two wins, yeah yeah!).

I do like the fun games. I did call someone a nasty name, but Mal totally deserved it for swooshing in and grabbing the puck. Besides, she tried to spook me by rapping her stick on the ice behind me--WTF? I knew it was her and thought she was just being a goof. She said she wasn't close to me but was trying to make it seem like she was, hah.

Tonight was another installment of "If you go for it, even if she's faster or more skilled, you will sometimes win the puck anyway, so try!" It's a tough lesson, really, as I'm playing against women who are talented from the get-go, plus my teammates from Green division who are, suddenly or not, getting so good/fast/strong!

I did try to throw Jami off by yelling out "Squirrel!" (see below) at opportune moments, but her promise of falling on her ass laughing did not come to pass. Beeyotch.

In any case, I did lots of right things: pinching in, taking shots from the blue line, covering the pass, and trying to change direction behind the net (this last one, an utter failure--there she was, still on my tail!--but I shall keep trying). The game felt good and if I had any big oopses, I've completely forgotten them by now, and it's still not yet Wine O'clock over here.

We've had a full weekend:

Friday
Friday night, we did Coupon Night: we went to Borders with G's filled-out Summer Reading Program list of 8 books read. G spend lots of time (big surprise) trying to decide which book to get for $4.99 (50% or more off list price). Instead of stick around and be mad, I rearranged the knitting books (they are always horribly out of order) instead. He finally decided on a compilation of Star Wars 1-3 novelizations. I encouraged him to choose this because they're written by Patricia Wrede, she of "Dealing With Dragons" et al. fame. She is a terrific, creative writer, so these stories are sure to be excellent.

Then we headed to the cash register, G having convinced me to offer my extra 40% off coupon for the other item he wanted to get, and Indiana Jones-themed novel. I'm proud to say that he did buy both of these items with his own money. I was going to use the coupon to get a set of Moleskine notebooks with the graph-paper backgrounds, but they did have a sort of Moleskine knock-off in the discount section for $3.99, and the cashier couldn't think of any way in which they differed except that the knockoff perhaps had stiffer covers (which seems like a plus to me).

From there, we ventured to Beverly's for me to use my 40% off coupon on a snail refill for the cardmaking I do, stopping at See's for 2 bordeau candies (oh yumminess) for the freezer, for which we got two free samples as well, yay.

Then we headed back to Park Street, for a free coffee for me from Peet's (in return for my having sent a complaint about a super long wait during a street fair--I was surprised that they weren't overstaffed on a day like that), and a free ice cream for G at Tucker's, one of his prizes for reading several hours' worth, from our local library.

Saturday
On a day that would have been lovely to sleep in, we ventured to Berkeley for an Ecclesiastical Council, one of the more unusual ones, but still interesting and highly worthwhile, for a friend of mine from the Bay Association board. I had never seen him so nervous, but this was a required and serious part of our Association's evaluating him for fitness for ordination (he passed).

As we left Berkeley, I realized we were passing Berkeley Bowl and just had to stop in for some bulk-bin purchases and some lovely fruit. Yum.

When we finally got home, we had about an hour to laze around before heading out to see my ex, Nancy, playing drums in a music thing up in the Laurel District of Oakland. I was so glad we went! Her friend, whom she's raved about before, really is amazing and charming and talented. I had to laugh at the women around me, though, focusing their cameras in on Nancy, and kidded her afterward that she was the eye candy. She loves ego strokes and did appreciate it--but also had showed her immense talent during the set. Great stuff!

From there, we headed back to Alameda to be late for a birthday party for a sweet baby from church, for whom I made a baby blanket a few months ago, much appreciated by her parents (truly knitworthy people). We dropped right into enjoying the outdoor party, and I got a good long time to chat with my friend A, whom I haven't seen in a while and haven't had a chat with for months now. I made a new resolve to head out to Benicia to visit, and soon.

A needed to visit a restroom before heading back home, and asked if she could use ours. I hurriedly scrubbed the toilet moments before she arrived, and seeing our place with a visitor's eyes, made a new resolve to catch up on housekeeping things I've let go by the wayside. This week, I'm going to get our vacuum hose fixed, so I can vacuum again. I'm also going to call about getting the dishwasher fixed. But I did get the mountain of dishes washed and the stove clean, and all the counters wiped down, and boy does it feel good. I love the FlyLady's "walk around your house like you're a realtor" idea. I want our house to be comfortable, uncluttered, and clean enough to have people over at the drop of a hat.

That evening, we went to the movie "Up" and met my friend Jami there, who protested but did not win the argument that we were treating her (with prepaid vouchers through the Entertainment book, natch). LOVED it. G was just fine with the sad part I'd been warned about, and the scary dogs. So much fun.

Sunday
Sunday morning is a prime time to sleep in and take it easy--which I did until about 9:10, having realized we were both on the Slow Track that day and that we hadn't even eaten breakfast! We got fed and out the door in time for church and the Sunday-School-teacher gratitude day, which was very nice. I taught that day, too, speaking about the scene where Jesus calms the waters. I just had G and two others and it was a thoughtful, worthwhile, fun class. I like those classes.

After church, we headed home to relax a bit (and finish the dishes--me, and clean G's room more--him), and I made G write a thank-you to my mom for funding the pricey special camp he goes to for 3 weeks in the summer. It helped SO much last year for his social skills, and I'm carpooling with 2 (maybe 3) other families this time, so it'll be so much easier! The only tricky part will be transferring his booster seat around. Compared to last year, when I had no carpool for one week and felt like I spent the week driving, it'll be a breeze!

Then I took G for a long playdate with his friend R who is only here during summers, and went to hockey, and you know how that ended up. Night!

OK, OK, I'm a bad mom, I get it

I don't know how many Bad Mom dreams I can take.

In this one, we were at Disneyland...ish. My sister was there, too, but not her kids (?). G and I went to take a tram to a different part of the park (there were several, of all sorts of colors, depending on where you wanted to go). He got on one and I somehow didn't get in the seat, and ended up hanging onto the back until the next station. I was really relatively calm about this--looked down at the seat and realized that if I tried to climb over while it was moving, I'd more likely fall, and hanging on wasn't tiring for some reason, so I just did that. We made it to the station uneventfully and no one yelled at me for riding it unsafely.

From that station, we were going to get on the Red line and G ended up on a car by himself. He looked back as it left and I shouted, "Stay on that one. It'll bring you back."

And then I leaned on something and switched a switch. It seemed important, so I told a Cast Member, who didn't seem very impressed. Not sure what he did.

And then I left. I told him I'd be there, and I went somewhere else! It was a hotel-lobby-like area, and there was a table of small preprinted sheets of paper with gold seals and different line colors on it, including Red. They had something to do with return trips, and people casually set them down on that table until they needed them, and then picked them back up and used them. It seemed like there was an Honor System about not taking one if it wasn't yours.

I don't know what I did next, but I did finally return to the other Red station, and he was there with a Cast Member, and crying and furious, understandably so. I hadn't, this time, written my cell number on the inside of his arm, and I also hadn't grabbed anyone at the Red station and said, "Hey, my kid just left on the Red train by himself, he's blond and about 4' high; can someone grab him and send him back here?" Why didn't I do that?

Ugh. I woke up moaning.

I can't hear you

Last weekend was my church's Conference's Annual Meeting. I got a call last week asking if I would be a "scribe" for a meeting that was to be held there. I agreed, and gladly. I love being part of the process and what happens in the smaller meetings is interesting and enlightening.

It wasn't until the meeting actually started, in a section of the large meeting hall, that I realized what a challenge it would be. I don't mind typing fast, or paraphrasing, or even interacting in a meeting. I do have problems hearing.

This meeting really underlined my continuing hearing problems. Everyone who spoke quietly was nearly silent for me. SO frustrating, as I was supposed to be writing down not only the thoughts expressed but also the names of the speakers and their churches.

I had a similar experience in a later discussion group for which I wasn't a scribe. A woman at the end of our kidney-bean shaped group was speaking and I considered asking her (and everyone who would speak) to speak up, but was caught between embarrassment and an urge not to interrupt. I cupped my hand around my good better ear and listened as well as I could. (I also, I realized years ago, use lipreading extensively in low hearing situations.)

Not hearing makes me feel frustrated but also a bit panicked. I hate missing out. I hate seeming different, too (with the hand up around the ear, or asking, "I'm sorry?" or "What?" over and over). sigh

It's time to face the devil, as a friend says. I'm going to visit the Costco audiologist this month and see what s/he says about which aids would work for me. And bulk up my "cafeteria" pre-tax medical costs plan for next year, when I'll buy a hearing aid or two.

As my friend Mike says, Growing old is not for wimps.