It's actually Cliff's Notes. Cliff (possessive)'s Notes. I know! Who knew?
February has been something of a blur. Busy and cold. Jack's basketball season is over, but it ended on a high note. His team didn't exactly have a winning record, but the blessing of a nine year old's memory is that he only remembers the games they won and how many points he scored this season. He had a great time, learned a bunch and is excited to play again.
His last game found his team significantly ahead of their opponents, giving the coaches the opportunity to pull rabbits out of hats and put the ball in every kid's hands. In particular, little James, who spent most of the season skipping from one end of the court to the other and generally avoiding the ball at all costs, got a chance to make his dad proud. A play designed by the coaches pitted three of the tallest kids against the poor sprite guarding James, letting him sneak around them to shoot at the basket. He got several shots at the basket and launched the ball...to nowhere. He somehow managed to draw a foul or two and after three breathless attempts far ahead of the foul line (the ref was in cahoots, too), finally scored a point. The "plan" wasn't as covert as the boys thought, and when the ball slipped through the hoop, the crowd erupted, his father cheered at the top of his lungs and his mother wiped away tears of pride. It really was magical...I cried and cheered like a freak, too (shut up). It took the efforts of the coaches and the willingness of Jack's team to make it happen, but watching those boys work together to make it possible for James to know what it feels like to score a game point was so inspiring and so moving. It was like a scene out of a well scripted movie. We couldn't have been prouder of our boys and more grateful to the coaches for showing them what it means to be team players. It didn't matter that they lost many (ok, most) of their games...they won and won BIG in the end. But now it's over. And I am sad about it (really). But having my Tuesdays and Saturdays back isn't such a bad thing.
We spent a couple more days with our friends skiing this month (Hi Lisa. You win. You're welcome). Turns out Maggie is more of a lounge lizard than a ski bunny, but it works for her. She has an amazing ability to entertain herself and makes the most of a little hill in front of the lodge to body sled and play in the snow. As much as I'd like to force her to ski, it would totally backfire and she'd probably break an arm or leg to get back at me. Best to let her set the pace (trust me).
The other two have taken to the slopes like...like...well crap...I don't have anything (fish to water, flies to shit??). But whatever...they're doing so well and loving every minute they get to ski with their friends (who can ski circles around them, but no matter). They've taken several more lessons (I guess they're up to about four or five hours of semi-private lessons) and are now riding the ski lift without the help of an adult (who I assumed would throw themselves off the seat after my babies if there was an unfortunate accident) and making their way down the mountain in one piece (with the beginnings of a little style...if I may say so myself). It has been a real joy to watch them and we're excited about the possibility of joining the ski club next year to give them ample opportunity to become proficient skiers (and hopefully we can get Maggie out of the lodge).
The girls have started dance at Nazareth again and, as my good friend Denise says, I don't think we're going to be dancing in the Nutcracker Ballet this year. Libby is earnest and tries hard, but she's athletic and more suited to plowing down little girls on a soccer field (or rugby field) than pirouetting across the stage. But at least she'll know the dance moves. Maggie is much more interested in Lauren, her cousin, who dances with them and who's feet also do not touch the ground. The two of them (Lauren and Maggie) are somewhere out in fantasy land and routinely have to be brought back to earth to shake their money makers inappropriately and ignore everything else their sweet, unpaid college instructors try to teach them. It's going to be a really beautiful recital (snort), but not to worry...I'm gonna have the biggest bouquets of flowers this year! Oh yeah, bitches...now I know why they have those damn recitals.
Well, geez, I guess that's it for February. On to March.
In eleven more sleeps Winky will be here!! And Brighid will be here!! But, really, Winky will be here!! Can you stand it? She is flying in from London and will spend at least 3 days with us (we're pulling out all the stops and if need be, will resort to crying to the US Airways ticketing supervisors to see if we can't get a couple of more days in). At the very least we will have a great weekend together. Brighid arrives in the afternoon and Winky will be here late evening next Thursday. I already have my menus planned (a shocker, I know) and will bribe the kids to make me look good ("Yes, Mummy, I would like to go to my room to read poetry for a bit and then, if it's alright with you, I'd like to clean the bathrooms"). I am so excited to see them both...it has been about 24 years since I saw Winky (siss, man) and about 18 months since I saw Brighid (ag, shame). Poor Steve. We will (I promise) blog while they are here and will probably throw in a couple of nanner-nanner-nanner-see-how-much-fun-we're-having for good measure. 'Cuz that's how I roll.
Work has been a little hectic for both Steve and I. He is feeling the icy grip of a relentlessly cold winter and I am feeling the cold, dead fingers of a miserable economy (I never said I wasn't a drama queen). But, he can hunt and I can gather, so all will be fine.
On a personal note, I have developed the complexion of an eighty two year with mild acne. I'm really quite fetching. WTF? I have a drawer full of potions and swear off wine every night (every.single.night.), and yet I still seem to be aging at an alarming rate. Is it just me?
Okay, that's it for now. Facebook has been a bit of a time suck (alas my poor blog), but I've missed you. I miss your comments (hint, hint) and will try to get back in the habit of writing more regularly. Pinky swear.
PS. Awww...isn't this so cute? This wasn't staged...he just needed a cuddle.