Kim Says

I like sports. I enjoy watching them on TV and even more so at the field in person. You get the whole swell of the crowd and feel for the emotion and suspense when you are there in person. I think I appreciate football on TV better because of the instant replays. But Baseball games are definitely more fun in person, not to mention the soggy steamed hotdogs that I love so much and those baseball pants! Hubba-Hubba! (I am missing Cal Ripken, Jr. right about now…) 

I have been to a few Hockey Games. I don’t wait impatiently for the Stanley Cup to come on TV or even understand all of the off-sides penalties, but I get the general concept of the game. I understand that when Team Canada scores the first goal in sudden death overtime, that Team USA walks away with the silver medal and not gold.  

But Rugby? Does anyone understand Rugby? What is that weird huddle-human tug-of-war thing all about? Can you only score points by kicking a field goal? And if the tackling is just as hard as American Football, shouldn’t the players wear something a little more secure than short-shorts and a mouth guard? 

I only ask because I recently went to see Invictus at the movies. It had a lot to do with Nelson Mandela bringing his South African Nation together through the love of their team sport, Rugby. A lot of the scenes were of the team working towards winning the World Cup, but as I didn’t know anything about the sport, I could not tell if they were a team that had improved due to the renewed support of their countrymen?  Or did the evil opposing teams cheat? Or were the playing conditions an obstacle to overcome? I don’t know! I could not get that suspenseful excitement of the triumph of David over Goliath. (And those short-shorts. Yeeesh! Look away!) 

Well, I guess every country has its beloved National Pastime, whether it is Baseball or Rugby or even bocce ball. I’m just thankful that wrestling isn’t catching on. I never want to see my grandson in THAT outfit! Yeesh! Look away!

I have a friend who is about to become a first-time grandmother. The pregnancy was not a planned occurrence and the child will be of mixed race in a home that is…shall we say…very conservative.  But I know he will be truly loved and cherished by everyone. He is already going to have a hard start in the deep south to a single, young mother and a father that turned out to be not such a great guy. That’s not even the biggest problem. The problem is the daughter wants to name this child something just so wrong, I cannot even imagine.  

Normally, I do not use real and/or complete names on this Blog because slander and liable is always an option in the world of lawyers…however, in order for you to understand my misgivings about this name, I have to tell it to you: 

 Damien Black.  

Yes, this child is to be ordained The Crown Prince of Darkness. I shiver every time I think of it! 

I suggested perhaps renting The Omen and having the daughter watch for the full effect, but I was told, “she would probably think that was really cool”.  

I am not a religious person, but bad vibes are just plain bad vibes. His baby shower gift will have to be a cross and a bottle of holy water!

 And my friend, the soon-to-be-grandmother, she requested valium and duct tape in her care package. I nearly fell on the floor laughing so hard!

I moved into Sari’s house on Sunday afternoon. Sari and Kevin moved out Sunday evening. Monday happened to be a holiday, so there was no school for Scooter. However, YMCA daycare would be open for a small fee.  Sari had left me a list, broken down by day, on how to care for Scooter in her absence. Just reading the week’s worth of requirements was exhausting in and of itself: Swimming gear, library books, school clothes, homework folder, lunch box, snacks, hair products, bath time, bedtime stories, show and tell, nap mats, milk money, breakfast fruit, back packs, chewable vitamins, spelling words,… Not to mention the fact that I am wondering around a city that I have been to all of twice and I was not driving either time. The first day I was so proud of myself! I drove straight to the elementary school! No problems! Except that I was not supposed to be at the elementary school, I was supposed to be at the YMCA. Damnit! I had to call for directions… Later that afternoon, I drove to the restaurant we had eaten at the night before, I knew it was in the right direction of the hospital, but that’s as far as I could get. I had to call again for directions… The next day, school was closed due to inclement weather, so I drove the Scooter to the YMCA for the day. Along the way to the hospital, I stopped and picked up a birthday cake and some silly gifts for Sari as Tuesday was her 26^th birthday and spending it in the hospital was bad enough. Classy me picked up a bottle of champagne and a case of Bud Lite Lime. Hey, it was the one thing she said she hankered for and who am I to deny a hankering?  Wednesday was my first test to get the child off to school and on time by 7:45! If you know me at all, I don’t do mornings and I haven’t seen 7:45 in at least two years. I packed up and prepared for clothes, shoes, back packs, coats and lunch boxes the night before. My eyes popped open at 6:59! Holy cow! I can do this! I get the child up and begin the morning routine; there’s teeth brushing and hair pulling and shoe matching…then I blinked and suddenly twenty minutes had seemingly disappeared!  I give Sari a boat load of crap for not providing her child with a healthy breakfast before school all the time and here I was grabbing a zip lock baggie and tossing in a cinnamon raisin bagel for eating in the car.  Then, you all know darn well what I did next…yep, I drove straight to the YMCA and not the elementary school. Damnit! I haul ass to the correct car pool drop off spot and kick child out of the car at 4 minutes ‘til 8.  Later that day, I pick her up from school and she informs me that it was not library day. She was not suppose to take her library book back to school and mommy had paid for lunches all week so she didn’t need nor eat the lunch we had packed the night before. Ugh! At least she is still all in one piece! I think that still makes me a winner! Go Team G.G!

Sari’s Doctor has been insisting for the final month of pregnancy that Scout was either going to be an 8(+)lb boy or he was residing in a very plush penthouse. 

Friday, Feb 12, the doctor decides that Scout just isn’t moving much anymore and that it was best he leave his posh abode and join the rest of us. Sari and her Hubby move into the Huntsvegas Hilton on Sunday night, while I move into their house to care for big sister, Scooter. 

Scout apparently was in no hurry to leave his happy home. By 5pm on Monday, he still had made no indication of moving out. I left the hospital to go pick up Scooter from after-school care and brought her back with me to visit her mom one more time. We arrived just in time to catch the doctor dashing out of Sari’s room. Scout had changed his mind! He was on his way…NOW!  

At 6:04pm, Monday, February 15, 2010 a new baby came into the world! He was 6lbs 3 oz and 19.5 inches long. Maybe the penthouse isn’t all it’s cracked up to be? He has red hair and blue eyes (so far) and definitely has his big sister’s profile. Everyone is happy and healthy!  

I am now G.G. squared.

Valentine’s Day afternoon at the Roommates’ house: Boy is crashed out on the couch enjoying a sweet cat nap. Roommate #2 has just emerged from his room after a long night of bartending. Roommate #3 is just returning from his lunch shift as he trips over a bag mysteriously left on the front step and falls into the front door. Roommates 2 and 3 cautiously open the bag to reveal a case of baby formula. Rifling through the bag, they search for a card or note indicating to whom this awful item belongs. A vigorous game of hot potato begins. Each proclaiming, “It’s not mine!” 

Roommate #3 cries, “I don’t even have a girlfriend!”

Roommate #2 declares, “I don’t even know how to spell girlfriend!” 

Boy stirs from his peaceful slumber demanding what all this commotion is over. The Roommates toss the cootie bag to Boy, “it’s not mine!” they claim in unison. 

Boy laughs, “you idiots, my sister is having her baby tomorrow! I’m delivering this bag to her from her friend.” 

That night, three Roommates are out celebrating Valentine’s Day together. No girls allowed. Whew!