Amy Lane's Blog: Writer's Lane, page 188
October 4, 2010
Vainglorious Prickweenies: Redux
OKay-- wrapping up some business first!
1. I'm going to be interviewed here, and one of the cool things about that is that Wave solicits questions from readers beforehand. I'll post it when she does, and anyone who wants to put me on the barbie and grill me like a trout will have her day!
2. I finally DID get my birthday date, and it was lovely. I insisted on the cheap theaters because "Sorcerer's Apprentice" was still playing there, and darnit, I didn't get to see it when it was in the expensive place, and it was totally worth it. Fun, a little bit predictable, but still... pure popcorn-munching, movie-going joy. EXACTLY what I was in the mood for, and, thank you Mate for indulging me.
3. Funny story about that... we had just gotten our tickets and were cutting through the outside line to get to the door, when I saw a little girl, corkscrew hair done in multiple braids, pink blanket clutched to her chest, big, dark eyes looking excited to be out late. "Despicable Me" was playing and I winked at her and said, "That's a REALLY good movie!" She smiled, and then I smiled at the young man with her, so he would know I wasn't a crazy woman, off to steal this adorable little kid, and then the young man went... "Wait... I know you... you taught me MacBeth!" And then he was quick to assure me that the little girl was his friend's kid and not his.
4. Funny story about that... so I gave my ex-student a hug and went inside where Mate was (patiently) waiting, and we stood by the exit of the movie, and waited for the theatre to clear out. The third or fourth couple to exit was my step-mom's brother and his wife. Uhm... gee! What a coincidence! And it REALLY was. I asked Mate if he had a relative or a coworker waiting for us in the movie theatre as a trifecta, and he said, "Uhm, no. Only you." And it was true. Only me.
So that was fun, and it's good to have fun, because the two soccer games--Zoomboy's and Chicken's, left me with a REALLY sour taste in my mouth. Chicken's game was hard to watch-- the other team had eight subs, and our team had NONE--it was seriously only a matter of time before we lost, because they were rotating half their team out twice a quarter. And that's fine-- the girls were playing hard, and they were happy to be out there, and we could deal with that. What was PISSING ME OFF was that the girls were playing rough--shitty, bitchy, throwing elbows, throwing clothesline rough. I heard Chicken oolf from across the field as she caught a clothesline to the gut. I watched a little defender do a backflip as she was tripped and elbowed at the same time. Chicken's coach, who NEVER gets angry, actually shouted-- SHOUTED, mind you, "When are you going to start seeing that, dammit!" See, because it wasn't enough that this team was going to win, they had to beat the fucking shit out of our girls to do it. The parents cheered every hit. The coach encouraged them. And the horrible thing?
That wasn't even the worst game I saw on Saturday.
Zoomboy's game was so horrific that I actually wrote a letter and showed it to our coach, and she's making a copy--one for the president of the other team's league, and one for the president of ours. Because what happened at Zoomboy's U8 (Children under eight) soccer game literally made me sick. So, here's the copy of that letter--and I still can't believe my kid was in this game:
To the board members of the team we played on Saturday, October 2, 2010:
Dear fellow parents:
This Saturday, our team, The Mighty Raptors, played your team, The ______________, and to put it mildly, we got trounced.
We knew we were getting trounced, we saw it happening, and our children, happy to be there and playing, continued on with a good heart and full effort in spite of the following things:
• The team had three SUPERLATIVE players on it—as in, "should be not one but two divisions up" kind of players. These players were excellent ball handlers—in fact, they were not only good enough to run circles around our players with flourishes and tricky little ball moves, but they were ALLOWED to do this with full knowledge and encouragement from their coach.
• These three players sat out for only five minutes of the second quarter. There were three subs to take their place—to my knowledge, these three subs ONLY played for those five minutes of the second quarter. (This was the only time period when our team held its own.)
• These three players were CONTINUOUSLY on offense. Not once were they pulled back to play defense, even when it became clear that our team was outmatched and outgunned. The players were, as I said, encouraged to show our kids just exactly how much our kids did not measure up to their expectations as competitors. That was nice of them by the way. Their parents were OBVIOUSLY very proud.
• The team's coach AND parents started calling LOUDLY for a mercy killing to the game. (I'm pretty sure 'mercy killing' was their exact word.) They harassed the ref continuously for pretty much the entire fourth quarter. Instead of putting the second string on, or putting key players in less prominent positions, this team made it clear that our kids weren't worth their time, and they did it loudly, obnoxiously, and with incredible insult. (I admit, as the woman snarling, "Our kids came here to PLAY!" across the field, I was less than gracious about this last part.)
• In response to the call for a "mercy killing", one of the players "went down" on his face in front of the goal, lying there until someone noticed that he was "playing dead". At least I think that's what happened—all I know is that neither the coach nor the parents nor the refs were paying attention to this kid lying face first in front of the goal. In fact, the first person on the field to pay attention to this kid was my son, playing defender. He is, by the way, easily the worst player in the league—but that didn't keep him from checking on this little boy to make sure he was okay. I don't know if the opposing team noticed this, but I personally took a tremendous amount of satisfaction knowing that one of the best examples of soccer that day was shown by a kid who very well may never score a goal. Ever.
In short? I was appalled. The odds of a child earning a soccer scholarship or making it to the pros are astronomical. The odds of a child failing a class or growing up to lose a job or flunk out of college because he has not learned the lessons of fair play, respect, or basic humanity are considerably higher, and guess which road the this team was hell-bent on taking?
The truly tragic thing is that this team isn't just a 'team' at these events—it is a representative of its entire community. If I had been a member of your community, in that moment, I would have been mortified.
Congratulations. Your league's team won. I'm sure you must be very proud.
Sincerely
Amy Lane
Mother the "worst" player on the field.
1. I'm going to be interviewed here, and one of the cool things about that is that Wave solicits questions from readers beforehand. I'll post it when she does, and anyone who wants to put me on the barbie and grill me like a trout will have her day!
2. I finally DID get my birthday date, and it was lovely. I insisted on the cheap theaters because "Sorcerer's Apprentice" was still playing there, and darnit, I didn't get to see it when it was in the expensive place, and it was totally worth it. Fun, a little bit predictable, but still... pure popcorn-munching, movie-going joy. EXACTLY what I was in the mood for, and, thank you Mate for indulging me.
3. Funny story about that... we had just gotten our tickets and were cutting through the outside line to get to the door, when I saw a little girl, corkscrew hair done in multiple braids, pink blanket clutched to her chest, big, dark eyes looking excited to be out late. "Despicable Me" was playing and I winked at her and said, "That's a REALLY good movie!" She smiled, and then I smiled at the young man with her, so he would know I wasn't a crazy woman, off to steal this adorable little kid, and then the young man went... "Wait... I know you... you taught me MacBeth!" And then he was quick to assure me that the little girl was his friend's kid and not his.
4. Funny story about that... so I gave my ex-student a hug and went inside where Mate was (patiently) waiting, and we stood by the exit of the movie, and waited for the theatre to clear out. The third or fourth couple to exit was my step-mom's brother and his wife. Uhm... gee! What a coincidence! And it REALLY was. I asked Mate if he had a relative or a coworker waiting for us in the movie theatre as a trifecta, and he said, "Uhm, no. Only you." And it was true. Only me.
So that was fun, and it's good to have fun, because the two soccer games--Zoomboy's and Chicken's, left me with a REALLY sour taste in my mouth. Chicken's game was hard to watch-- the other team had eight subs, and our team had NONE--it was seriously only a matter of time before we lost, because they were rotating half their team out twice a quarter. And that's fine-- the girls were playing hard, and they were happy to be out there, and we could deal with that. What was PISSING ME OFF was that the girls were playing rough--shitty, bitchy, throwing elbows, throwing clothesline rough. I heard Chicken oolf from across the field as she caught a clothesline to the gut. I watched a little defender do a backflip as she was tripped and elbowed at the same time. Chicken's coach, who NEVER gets angry, actually shouted-- SHOUTED, mind you, "When are you going to start seeing that, dammit!" See, because it wasn't enough that this team was going to win, they had to beat the fucking shit out of our girls to do it. The parents cheered every hit. The coach encouraged them. And the horrible thing?
That wasn't even the worst game I saw on Saturday.
Zoomboy's game was so horrific that I actually wrote a letter and showed it to our coach, and she's making a copy--one for the president of the other team's league, and one for the president of ours. Because what happened at Zoomboy's U8 (Children under eight) soccer game literally made me sick. So, here's the copy of that letter--and I still can't believe my kid was in this game:
To the board members of the team we played on Saturday, October 2, 2010:
Dear fellow parents:
This Saturday, our team, The Mighty Raptors, played your team, The ______________, and to put it mildly, we got trounced.
We knew we were getting trounced, we saw it happening, and our children, happy to be there and playing, continued on with a good heart and full effort in spite of the following things:
• The team had three SUPERLATIVE players on it—as in, "should be not one but two divisions up" kind of players. These players were excellent ball handlers—in fact, they were not only good enough to run circles around our players with flourishes and tricky little ball moves, but they were ALLOWED to do this with full knowledge and encouragement from their coach.
• These three players sat out for only five minutes of the second quarter. There were three subs to take their place—to my knowledge, these three subs ONLY played for those five minutes of the second quarter. (This was the only time period when our team held its own.)
• These three players were CONTINUOUSLY on offense. Not once were they pulled back to play defense, even when it became clear that our team was outmatched and outgunned. The players were, as I said, encouraged to show our kids just exactly how much our kids did not measure up to their expectations as competitors. That was nice of them by the way. Their parents were OBVIOUSLY very proud.
• The team's coach AND parents started calling LOUDLY for a mercy killing to the game. (I'm pretty sure 'mercy killing' was their exact word.) They harassed the ref continuously for pretty much the entire fourth quarter. Instead of putting the second string on, or putting key players in less prominent positions, this team made it clear that our kids weren't worth their time, and they did it loudly, obnoxiously, and with incredible insult. (I admit, as the woman snarling, "Our kids came here to PLAY!" across the field, I was less than gracious about this last part.)
• In response to the call for a "mercy killing", one of the players "went down" on his face in front of the goal, lying there until someone noticed that he was "playing dead". At least I think that's what happened—all I know is that neither the coach nor the parents nor the refs were paying attention to this kid lying face first in front of the goal. In fact, the first person on the field to pay attention to this kid was my son, playing defender. He is, by the way, easily the worst player in the league—but that didn't keep him from checking on this little boy to make sure he was okay. I don't know if the opposing team noticed this, but I personally took a tremendous amount of satisfaction knowing that one of the best examples of soccer that day was shown by a kid who very well may never score a goal. Ever.
In short? I was appalled. The odds of a child earning a soccer scholarship or making it to the pros are astronomical. The odds of a child failing a class or growing up to lose a job or flunk out of college because he has not learned the lessons of fair play, respect, or basic humanity are considerably higher, and guess which road the this team was hell-bent on taking?
The truly tragic thing is that this team isn't just a 'team' at these events—it is a representative of its entire community. If I had been a member of your community, in that moment, I would have been mortified.
Congratulations. Your league's team won. I'm sure you must be very proud.
Sincerely
Amy Lane
Mother the "worst" player on the field.
October 2, 2010
Free Books!
Okay-- I'm not giving any away, but Rainbow books (Home of that pretty icon on my last post) is, and If I Must is available for free download tomorrow, so I thought I'd bring it up.
Now don't ask how my birthday went, because really, although it was the exact anniversary of my birth, it wasn't really my birthday. It's not our birthday until we get a night out, and Mate and I haven't had our night out, ergot, not my birthday. Which is good because it was sort of meh. I ended up doing two hours worth of errands (one of them picking up bifocals--oh, the irony!) in the car without air conditioning, and it was 95 degrees. I got home, and I was THRASHED... tired and wired from the open windows and depressed because I'd spent part of that time looking and still couldn't find a good present for Mate and I still had to make dinner and... blech.
So I sat down and the short people sat on my lap (and we've been too busy for that in a while) and watched some cartoons while I slept. I woke up long enough to tell Big T put on the water so I could make some dinner.
And then something so cool happened.
Big T was washing dishes at the time (because I'd cried on him earlier that day because NO ONE had done them, and as shopper and cooker I claim exemption! If they want cooked food and not fast food, SOMEONE ELSE must do the dishes!) and he was there when the water boiled, and he said, "What next, mom?" I told him, and fell back asleep. "What next mom?" It only took a couple of steps, really, and I managed to wake up and mumble them, and when I REALLY woke up, with only one kid on my lap and a crick in my neck and a MUCH happier disposition, Big T brought me a big bowl full of dinner.
Truly, an inspired gift--it's funny how no one ever thinks to ask like something like that, or even that it's a real present, but I've got to tell you, I've never been so grateful.
By the way? For those of you who watch The Show, this pivotal moment arrived, and Big T, who has been learning the guitar, suddenly had a new goal in mind.
Anybody got ear plugs?
And now, wish me luck on my date tonight-- the guy's pretty hot, he likes kids, and I have it on good authority that I might get lucky! And he almost has the same birthday as me-- it's like fate!
(BTW--I figured out the best gift for Mate, and he loved it. I bought us four brand new pillows, with matching new sheets--and since our old pillows were as comfortable as clipboards and rubber chickens, and it was a practical gift too, he liked it very much:-)
Now don't ask how my birthday went, because really, although it was the exact anniversary of my birth, it wasn't really my birthday. It's not our birthday until we get a night out, and Mate and I haven't had our night out, ergot, not my birthday. Which is good because it was sort of meh. I ended up doing two hours worth of errands (one of them picking up bifocals--oh, the irony!) in the car without air conditioning, and it was 95 degrees. I got home, and I was THRASHED... tired and wired from the open windows and depressed because I'd spent part of that time looking and still couldn't find a good present for Mate and I still had to make dinner and... blech.
So I sat down and the short people sat on my lap (and we've been too busy for that in a while) and watched some cartoons while I slept. I woke up long enough to tell Big T put on the water so I could make some dinner.
And then something so cool happened.
Big T was washing dishes at the time (because I'd cried on him earlier that day because NO ONE had done them, and as shopper and cooker I claim exemption! If they want cooked food and not fast food, SOMEONE ELSE must do the dishes!) and he was there when the water boiled, and he said, "What next, mom?" I told him, and fell back asleep. "What next mom?" It only took a couple of steps, really, and I managed to wake up and mumble them, and when I REALLY woke up, with only one kid on my lap and a crick in my neck and a MUCH happier disposition, Big T brought me a big bowl full of dinner.
Truly, an inspired gift--it's funny how no one ever thinks to ask like something like that, or even that it's a real present, but I've got to tell you, I've never been so grateful.
By the way? For those of you who watch The Show, this pivotal moment arrived, and Big T, who has been learning the guitar, suddenly had a new goal in mind.
Anybody got ear plugs?
And now, wish me luck on my date tonight-- the guy's pretty hot, he likes kids, and I have it on good authority that I might get lucky! And he almost has the same birthday as me-- it's like fate!
(BTW--I figured out the best gift for Mate, and he loved it. I bought us four brand new pillows, with matching new sheets--and since our old pillows were as comfortable as clipboards and rubber chickens, and it was a practical gift too, he liked it very much:-)
September 29, 2010
10:11 pm
OKay--let's see if I can get this right. This is an e-book store that is offering a 20% discount next weekend (I think!) and since this page feeds to goodread.com, I thought I'd offer it up. Now watch me completely forget to offer it up on the weekend in question, right? We all know it. I'm a dork!
Mostly small stuff to blog--hopefully funny. I'm sort of having a hard time catching up on my sleep--I don't know why, either, it's so frustrating! I'll get five and a half, six hours one night, and the next day, I'm still a mess without a nap! (Oh... wait...)
Anyway, the kids have been very cute--now watch me try to remember how and not sound like a total dork when I do it, okay?
Ready? Okay...
Zoomboy came running out of the bathtub naked the other night--he was, uhm, boinging about, shall we say, when I told him not to play with that thing, and to go put some clothes on.
"But mom! I'm doing the pee-pee dance, and this is my pee-pee! Isn't that funny?"
*stark horror* "Yeah, honey... yanno... grownups might think that's funnier if you had some clothes on..."
****
I was asking the older kids to take out the bathroom trash. Squish came up behind me and started lecturing, and suddenly I remembered something I needed to address her about: "And Squish--stop wrapping your pink-pig stuffed animals in the sticky white pads you find wrapped in the little green bag, okay? MOm and Chicken are going to need those eventually, all right?"
Chicken went, "What in the hell?"
And I said, "She's been wrapping Petunia Pig in maxi-pads for the last three nights. No, I don't know why. No, I don't know why that particular stuffed animal. All I know is that those things are hella expensive and she can clear half a bag in half an hour."
I walked away while the big kids were still laughing themselves into a pillbug position on the kitchen floor.
*****
I went to pick up Squish from daycare, and she was all excited because she'd gotten to help make cake!
"Yeah," the babysitter said, without a trace of judgment, bless her. "It was pretty interesting. She told me, 'When mom's done cooking dinner, she doesn't do dishes. No. She just sits at the computer pushing buttons. She likes doing that. She pushes a lot of buttons!
*****
Mate and I turn 43 on Thursday/Friday, and while my yearly present of Supernatural on dvd is looking me in the eye, tempting me on the table, I have yet to find something for Mate. Of course, that could be because Mate won't give me any hints, and it could be that Mate has also caved and spend out resources on the beloved and welcome replacement to our dear departed X-box, and that's all he wants. I don't know. I think Mate and I need a day of just us to decide and hash this out--or at least just a dinner for mom, with Mate!
*****
And that's it. It wasn't going to BE it--I was SURE I had some more stories for you, but in spite of stopping to take a shower and put the kids to bed, I still keep falling asleep here, leaving big jet trails of letters on the keyboard that I have to clean up before I push send! Anyway, I'm going to bail!
Wish me sweet dreams!
OKay--let's see if I can get this right. This is an e-bo...
OKay--let's see if I can get this right. This is an e-book store that is offering a 20% discount next weekend (I think!) and since this page feeds to goodread.com, I thought I'd offer it up. Now watch me completely forget to offer it up on the weekend in question, right? We all know it. I'm a dork!
Mostly small stuff to blog--hopefully funny. I'm sort of having a hard time catching up on my sleep--I don't know why, either, it's so frustrating! I'll get five and a half, six hours one night, and the next day, I'm still a mess without a nap! (Oh... wait...)
Anyway, the kids have been very cute--now watch me try to remember how and not sound like a total dork when I do it, okay?
Ready? Okay...
Zoomboy came running out of the bathtub naked the other night--he was, uhm, boinging about, shall we say, when I told him not to play with that thing, and to go put some clothes on.
"But mom! I'm doing the pee-pee dance, and this is my pee-pee! Isn't that funny?"
*stark horror* "Yeah, honey... yanno... grownups might think that's funnier if you had some clothes on..."
****
I was asking the older kids to take out the bathroom trash. Squish came up behind me and started lecturing, and suddenly I remembered something I needed to address her about: "And Squish--stop wrapping your pink-pig stuffed animals in the sticky white pads you find wrapped in the little green bag, okay? MOm and Chicken are going to need those eventually, all right?"
Chicken went, "What in the hell?"
And I said, "She's been wrapping Petunia Pig in maxi-pads for the last three nights. No, I don't know why. No, I don't know why that particular stuffed animal. All I know is that those things are hella expensive and she can clear half a bag in half an hour."
I walked away while the big kids were still laughing themselves into a pillbug position on the kitchen floor.
*****
I went to pick up Squish from daycare, and she was all excited because she'd gotten to help make cake!
"Yeah," the babysitter said, without a trace of judgment, bless her. "It was pretty interesting. She told me, 'When mom's done cooking dinner, she doesn't do dishes. No. She just sits at the computer pushing buttons. She likes doing that. She pushes a lot of buttons!
*****
Mate and I turn 43 on Thursday/Friday, and while my yearly present of Supernatural on dvd is looking me in the eye, tempting me on the table, I have yet to find something for Mate. Of course, that could be because Mate won't give me any hints, and it could be that Mate has also caved and spend out resources on the beloved and welcome replacement to our dear departed X-box, and that's all he wants. I don't know. I think Mate and I need a day of just us to decide and hash this out--or at least just a dinner for mom, with Mate!
*****
And that's it. It wasn't going to BE it--I was SURE I had some more stories for you, but in spite of stopping to take a shower and put the kids to bed, I still keep falling asleep here, leaving big jet trails of letters on the keyboard that I have to clean up before I push send! Anyway, I'm going to bail!
Wish me sweet dreams!
September 27, 2010
Good Morning, World!
Yeah--it's been a few days--sorry about that!
Not only were things pretty busy around here with the B-day madness (and it was even small madness, mostly) but I was busy with The WIP That Kicked My Ass, and once I was done with THAT, well, I just sort of declared yesterday The Day Without The Computer, and that makes it pretty damned hard to blog.
Lessee--first things first. Chicken's B-day--
Was small.
Part of that was we'd already given her a weekend at Sacanime with her friend at the beginnin...
Not only were things pretty busy around here with the B-day madness (and it was even small madness, mostly) but I was busy with The WIP That Kicked My Ass, and once I was done with THAT, well, I just sort of declared yesterday The Day Without The Computer, and that makes it pretty damned hard to blog.
Lessee--first things first. Chicken's B-day--
Was small.
Part of that was we'd already given her a weekend at Sacanime with her friend at the beginnin...
September 23, 2010
Chicken
Chicken.
Chicken is sixteen years old tomorrow.
She is tough, smart, independent, vulnerable, and beautiful.
When she was born, I walked into the hospital nearly eight centimeters dilated--and she shot across the stainless steel table like a watermelon seed being squished across the counter. This is only notable because we were uncertain as to her gender--we were on welfare at the time, and had no ultrasounds, and all we had was a hunch that this one might be different than the last one. ...
September 21, 2010
And the world turns smoothly on...
So I was sitting at my desk today, right after the students all left, eating a sandwich. And my uterus gave a mighty red throb and shouted, "BITCH!"
I gasped, whimpered, downed two Advil, doubled over, and whimpered, "Why?"
And my uterus drank in the drugs, gave a smug, evil throb, and retreated in gloating silence. "You know, heifer. You thought you could skip our little chat for three months running?"
Uhm, not to alarm anyone, but I think I'm going to start my period soon. Just a hunch, ...
I gasped, whimpered, downed two Advil, doubled over, and whimpered, "Why?"
And my uterus drank in the drugs, gave a smug, evil throb, and retreated in gloating silence. "You know, heifer. You thought you could skip our little chat for three months running?"
Uhm, not to alarm anyone, but I think I'm going to start my period soon. Just a hunch, ...
September 19, 2010
How Tired Was I?
I was SO tired on Friday, that I completely forgot my own darned contest!
SORRY! Sorry... so sorry!!!
Anyway, my magic cooking pot produced (with a little help from Chicken) two different winners appeared. One was Jennifer Duffy, who asked for a Marcus and Phillip flashback (much to my delight and Chicken's dismay-- she was hoping for an Adrian/Bracken flashback, and I didn't have the heart to tell her there was one on Goodreads.com but it was too raw for her to read), and the other was Catie...
September 17, 2010
Dun-dun-dun!!
Yes, folks, don't bother to check your calendars, it is the dreaded *gasp* week six of school. But first, some writing happies...
Here, here,and here. Now, the interview was fun--and I answered the questions about "Truth" a little differently than I did in the last interview, so that was neat. And as for the others? You may notice the date stamp on them is, well, a little 'previous' to the moment--it's not that I don't get excited about these things (oh, believe me, I TOTALLY do!) it's ju...
Here, here,and here. Now, the interview was fun--and I answered the questions about "Truth" a little differently than I did in the last interview, so that was neat. And as for the others? You may notice the date stamp on them is, well, a little 'previous' to the moment--it's not that I don't get excited about these things (oh, believe me, I TOTALLY do!) it's ju...
September 14, 2010
Oh yeah... that's why...
Soccer season doesn't entirely suck...
And September really rocks.
And September really rocks.
