It's Sumpthin

It was a few months ago when Max uttered the phrase "it's something" or "it's sump-thin" if you're speaking in Max dialect. I was getting him dressed one day when I noticed one of my favorite t-shirts of his was becoming too small. I said something along the lines of, "aw man, this shirt is getting too small." That's when he looked at me with the most puzzled look on his face and said, "it's sumpthin." Yep. He was right about that, it's sumpthin. 

He's continued to say this in different scenarios, including when we were out to eat recently. He ordered mac and cheese --- surprise surprise --- and they brought him out a fork instead of a spoon. Max typically manages a spoon easier than a fork, so Kirk told him he would request one when the waiter returned to our table. Max looked at Kirk and said, "it's sumpthin." Haha! It's turned into our family motto of sorts and we say it anytime life doesn't necessarily go our way, but it's still tolerable. The optimism is seriously appreciated, Max.

It's important to shrug your shoulders a little when saying it in order to get the full effect.

*half smile* "it's sumpthin" *shoulder shrug* 

Lyla & Max started playing school when we get home from school. <-- ironic. Lyla is typically the teacher and I was laughing as she started clapping her hands while announcing it was story time. Max followed her prompts and Lyla offered him a small snack as long as he promised to sit criss-cross-apple-sauce. It's a funny dynamic between them that I'm enjoying while it lasts. I can still remember playing school with my little brother and it was always so satisfying having him willingly obey my demands. I see the exact same behavior in my sweet Lyla girl. The big sister syndrome is fierce.

ALSO, Max's first soccer game was a success. We are so grateful of our good friend Kurt for coaching at last minute due to the YMCA slacking in the organizational department. Kurt did a great job of herding those little rascals in the right direction, not to mention the kiddos were so grateful of having a professional soccer player coach their game. :) If you haven't already viewed my amazing, academy nominated feature film, you can do so by clicking here -----> soccer video.

Max: Soccer Practice Day One

As previously stated, Lyla started a ballet class a couple weeks ago and Max has been eager to start soccer ever since. He felt very left out the first week we dropped Lyla off at ballet. No matter how I laid it out for him, he simply had no understanding that I have zero control over the start dates of these activities, so I consoled his sadness with ice cream like a good mother. After weeks of asking and begging about playing soccer, the day finally arrived. Max was giddy with excitement. However, his glazed eyes after school made it obvious a nap needed to be first priority upon arriving home. He resisted, per the usual, but eventually surrendered to his siesta. 

I think we are slowly phasing out naps all together, because typically when I enforce nap time it has a negative impact on bed time. It's a matter of picking your poison --- surviving the 5pm witching hour or battling the hour long bedtime negotiations. They are equally as evil, in my opinion. Anyway, nap time was necessary today because 1. Monday's are hard and 2. He needed enough stamina to last him through his first soccer practice. Well. The hours passed and Max kept snoozing, so I eventually had to pack up the soccer gear and load him up in the car in a half-awake fog. He was furious over it. 

He screamed the entire way to the soccer field. It was super delightful. I am completely aware it's uncool to wake someone from a nap, but I felt he was being slightly dramatic. Especially considering he was so excited for soccer only hours before. Anyway, that's just life with little people. He exclaimed he no longer wanted to play soccer whatsoever and demanded we go back home. I had flashbacks of Lyla playing soccer and was fully convinced we were on the road to a repeat experience. We sat in the parking lot watching the other kids as they arrived. I explained to Max that we needed to go introduce himself and meet his teammates then if he still wanted to leave after that, we could do so. He still was not happy with me, but he agreed to the terms after a ten minute snack sesh in the car. Food is happiness. Oh crap. I consoled his sadness with food once again, this might be a problem. 

We finally ventured onto the field and Max immediately reverted back to his normal self. He was noticing all the other kids and pointing out all the soccer gear. I was relieved. He headed right out to the field and followed instruction seemingly well. Victory! And not to mention, he is the cutest little soccer dude ever! I'm excited to watch his progress over the next several weeks. 

Most parents, me included, were openly applauding their children and giving them direction during practice, but I was laughing as Lyla was screaming at Max louder than any other parent out there. "NO HANDS MAX. I SAID NO HANDS!" I had to remind her to chill out a couple times, although I was still laughing inside my head. I guess she thinks she is the soccer expert after that one time she "played" soccer. She's hilarious.

I really did feel bad about waking this sweet baby...

Meltdown phase replaced by curiosity.... 

aaaaand it's go time!

Summer Vibes

There is something in the air recently, I do believe it is called summer! Kirk's birthday has marked the kick off to summer for me for several years in a row. However, now we get an even earlier start to the summertime fun with Max's birthday falling only a week before Kirk's. The back to back birthday madness is slightly exhausting, but I anticipate many more years ahead of celebrating for an entire week. It will eventually flow more naturally.  

As summer begins, we say a bittersweet goodbye to our normal routine. We are finished with our weekly music class, visit to the library for story time, and soccer. Speaking of soccer, I think Lyla is happy for it to be over with as well. She loved playing soccer initially, but instead of using that excitement to improve her skills, she allowed it to transform into a state of panic. And once that seed was planted, there was no convincing her otherwise. It was too much pressure. That string of emotions has to be genetic and I know she got it from me. There are countless moments from my childhood of feeling overwhelmed with anxiety anytime the focus was centered around me. I was intimidated of strangers and shy to the extreme. I even refused to attend daycare, and I mean physically refused to go to daycare. I know my parents tried desperately.

I felt the urge to pressure Lyla to step outside of her comfort zone, only because I know how many fun activities I missed out on when I was younger because I let my nerves get the best of me. I knew she would have fun if she just got out there, but it didn't feel right to force her. I reminded myself that although it's my job as a parent to guide her, it is still her own journey and she has to work through those struggles on her own. It seemed ridiculous to continue going just for us to sit there and bake in the sun, but I wanted her to finish what she started, especially since soccer was her idea in the first place! That was really the only thing that irritated me. Yes, I know she is three. Yes, I know a three year old is still experiencing things for the first time and can't be expected to know what they really want. I don't even think the lesson of being a team player is comprehensible at that age. Ha. Oh well. The only explanation she could ever provide for not wanting to join her teammates was, "I'm just scared of all the people..." It is heartbreaking for me because I totally understand that. And although people tend to annoy me more than intimidate me at this point in my life --- I still feel shy from time to time!

Kirk, on the other hand, was frustrated because he was an athlete who thrived on having the spotlight. He assumed Lyla was intentionally being difficult, as she sometimes is, and it didn't occur to him that she might actually be feeling nervous. He was actually quite confused when I explained it to him. He thought, "Why would she be nervous about playing soccer? Soccer is fun."  I elaborated on some of my own traumatic memories from childhood when I was pressured to do things I didn't want to do. I recall hiding out in the bathroom at my own 6th grade track meet simply because, just like Lyla, I was scared of all the people. It seems so silly now. Kirk made an attempt to laugh at the situation, as he saw all his hopes and dreams of having an athlete for a daughter float away into the distance. I want to feel empathetic for Kirk, but I'm struggling to do so because team sports were never my thing. I think team sports can be very valuable in teaching life lessons and of course I want both of my kids to explore their own interests, but I was never one to understand the thrill of having a crowd watch me compete. Yuck. 

I giggled as Lyla brought up the idea of signing up for ballet immediately after finishing the soccer season. We explained to her that she will have an audience performing ballet as well. Kirk is hesitant to jump right into ballet, as am I. However, I think it's important she is given more opportunities to spread her wings and build her confidence. She will never conquer her fears if she doesn't have a chance to face them. Plus, she is only three. She still has a long road of emotional development ahead of her and maybe she will grow out of that terrified-nervous-I-want-to-puke phase long before her momma did. Although we were surprised by her jitters over soccer, a lot of spunk remains in that little body and I predict she will still be a leader among her peers. 

I've obviously done a lot of reflecting on that topic. Kirk gave me the most puzzling look when I brought up the subject again several days later. Men just don't dwell on things like women, at least in my experience. I applaud Kirk for calming my frazzled thought process. We will chat again about ballet this Fall. 

These photos represent the beginning and the end of soccer. She enjoyed practice just fine, it was game day that was unacceptable. The bottom photo is terrible quality, yet necessary to understand this complex situation. She is still the most adorable [non] soccer player ever. Oy vey...

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