From Nat's Brain

Confessions of a reluctant soccer mom

I know my readers have gathered by now, I am all about sports. We are just a bunch of jocks in this household. Too bad about the Blue Jays losing the Grey Cup eh?

Now when I signed The Boy up for soccer, I didn't do it out of any love for the sport. Then when they asked for volunteers, I ticked off yes because I am on the board of this community group who is organizing it. So how can I not. I thought to myself, I can go "Rah rah rah... kick that ball" or whatever it is you are supposed to say at soccer games. But, well, did I mention I'm on the board and people know who I am and know that I'm unlikely to say "no" in a pinch.

"Hey Jo, so what do you need me to do?"
"Well, The Boy is on our team. We need an assistant coach, so I put you down."
"Ummm... Jo. Are you aware that I have no coaching skills and... umm... don't really know anything about soccer. It's just one ball in soccer right?"
"Oh Nat, you are so funny."
And she walked away.

So just call me coach. Now I must admit that G. (Jo's lovely man) is a great coach and he basically coached me too. G. is also in tremendous shape. (Thank god for running.) Me, well, I am good at "You, there in the blue. Yes I know blue is our team colour... please don't climb the goal post. They aren't stable and we are in the middle of a game" "No no no, please don't eat the grass." "Really that little scratch is not going to kill you." And standing on the sidelines yelling "Go ___ Go" (I leave a blank because I usually can't come up with the team name or the child's names.) But for $70 for 7 weeks. It's great fun and the kids seem to enjoy the social aspect of it. Even if the Assistant coach is clueless. (My child is the one talking Pokemon with the other team.)

But I did this for The Boy, who is not exactly a jock. I'm hoping he'll learn to like team sports a bit. And if he hates it, he doesn't have to play next year and then my coaching career will be short lived. (And that's ok.) If he likes it, then I'm fucked. I'll end up assimilated into the soccer Borg -- the motherhood equivalent of Scientology. Next it'll be soccer in the spring/hockey in winter/ football in the fall (when do they play football??) and all those sports, that involve more than a ball and a net. There goes my life as I will be guilted into every single game. After one game I am sad to report that we are leaning towards Borgland. Nooooooooo!!

I must admit, that in this neighbourhood, most parents are relatively cool. We all walk to the field, and well, it's ok that we aren't the minivan set. A few who take it a bit to seriously who are a bit overdressed for the casual league. But whatever. Perhaps I'd got a bit wrapped up in the label. I should know better. I hate labels.

Like the term Mommy Blogger. I really freaking hate it. This post makes me a mommy blogger. Sure part of Nat's Brain is a parenting blog. The Boy is a major part of my life. But, I think, calling me or anyone else a Mommy Blogger pigeons holes us for no good reason -- sometimes I talk about parenting but mostly I talk about the world and the way I see it. I am very proud of being a mom. Very proud of how the little guy is turning out (in spite of his poor choice of parents.) I am a mom but I am also a writer, a friend, a runner, music lover, a worker bee... and so much more... like how does that get captured in that label of "mommy". "Mommy is why I am in therapy... " "Mommy dearest..." Aaaaaaack.

I think there are blogs you can easily label. For instance See Nat Run, is a running blog. All running and fitness all the time. Call that a running blog I have no issue with. If all I wrote was about books, or music reviews or Wii games. Those are easy obvious labels. But this here is not a mommy blog. It's a blog that happens to be written by a mom. But it's a lot of different things too. And to label it, like most things sells us all short.

All that you can't leave behind

We bid a fond farewell to A&B this Friday. B has accepted a post in the United Arab Emirates and they'll be gone three years.

In order to make it easier on those of us still here. They held a "Come say good bye and take our stuff" open house on Friday and Saturday. They have given away most of their non-essential possessions, saying "So long suckers," and leaving on a jet plane. If it doesn't fit, in two large suitcase and carry-on luggage, it's not going. (They have a storage locker with winter essentials and their bikes apparently people don't cycle in UAE.)

As I peruse what's left of A's CD collection, I keep looking at A. and saying "Are you sure you don't want me to just babysit these?" as I took those CDs I kept meaning to borrow from him: Tom Wait, Miles Davis, Nick Cave and old R.E.M.. "They're all burned, Nat, really. Take them," he said. A. and I got to know each other while writing for a local community rag. Tuesday was production day. Wednesday we frolicked -- we'd take a long lunch. First the best Lebanese place in Ottawa, then CD shopping. A'd been the last hold out to go digital saying it detracted from the experience. (I must say I love the immediach of iTune but I miss the local record shop experience.) Maybe that's why I want to make sure. Like me, many of these CDs have a meaning.

I must admit though the concept of simplifying is attractive. Picture it, a small apartment: mattress on the floor, a few lamps. Just was you need. A table. Sparse. Sort of like opening a book. (Now what I am picturing in my head looks a hell of a lot like Santorini, apparently my idea of running off to far away lands is decidedly more European.)

We had a discussion about this at work. If you could had to, could you give most of it away. Keep the laptop, the iPod, digital camera and the clothing. Assume that your friends and family would come and take what they wanted and if something really mattered for sentimental reasons, you could give it to someone. (But with no intention of ever giving it back.) Wouldn't it be cool? To just give it up and start over?

It seems to me that the people would be hardest to give up. Family mostly. Friends you can keep up with via email. The stuff is well just that. It's the history in a place that holds you here. I know for us now there are family commitments both wanting to offer stability to The Boy, and extended family all around.

Given there is a time in everyone's life to do this. When here and now doesn't involve children whose idea of traveling light involves a DVD player, a gameboy and more electronic media than existed in 1977. (You'll never need more than 64K?) Lego, Playmobile and only 3 out of his 6 Webkinz. It's a hardship you don't put on little kids just because. (We do make him give away his old books and his "little" boy toys to his cousins or younger friends.) Children need more stability than a move across the world. (He could probably deal with moving, he couldn't deal with mom giving away the Wii.)

As for me, this whole thing has given me the urge to simplify. Really simplify. Spring must be in the air.

Le Running

It appears that French President Nicolas Sarkozy likes to run. But, as with most people who run, some people back at home are just not getting it. In fact, they are appalled by the pursuit calling it undignified and wonder "right-wing" and too American.

The French Intellectuals (who do take themselves VERY seriously indeed) say running is not meditative. This, they say, can only be achieved by through walking just like Socrates did (and look where he ended up --ha). I think any runner who has gone beyond, who has found even for a second the perfect pace. That spot when nothign hurts, when you feel like you could run forever can speak to the transcendental experience that running can be. And how necessary it can become. (Which may explain why, after three atrocious run I will go ahead with 9 kms on Sunday.)

I run. And I am not right-wing, I don't see running as a political activity. Nor am I American. In fact, I'm part French.

I do think as runners, we do face our fair share of criticism. A lot of explaining why we run, why we need to go farther, why we need to do better, why we risk our knees, backs. It's for those moments when you truly become the body-machine. There is nothing else. Just the run. And in this desk jockey world, I need the run to turn it off, especially when the day gets too much. The run forces you out of your body. And in our heady world, it's good to turn it off. (And isn't that meditation in and of itself.)

Is it selfish? I suppose, at its core it is. In my life, I sometimes feel that people are always on me. (Not that I mind but the demands are ever present, I'm happy but there is a lot going on.) Running is not about community or family or Society... it's about how body, mind and spirit come together. It is how it all fits, how it makes sense. Then when it's over you can take off the headphones, or stretch and start over with new eyes on the world.

I am convinced I am better person because I run. I know nothing about Sarkozy (except that he is apparently quite right wing) but a good run will probably lead to better choices, and if it's too American from the Intellectuals. Fuck 'em.

(Oh, as an aside -- hands down, setting politics and personality aside, Nicolas Sarkozy, is simply one of the sexiest sounding names out there. Nicolas Sarkozy. Cock an eyebrow and say it. Nicolas Sarkozy. AND it would make for one killer Scrabble Name. I think for this weekend, I will say Nicolas Sarkozy instead of hello or goodbye or yes... Nicolas Sarkozy.)

Shepherd Won't Leave Me Alone

There are songs that get you up the hill. Pillar of Davidson by Live is one of those songs.

This is a rambling post... unlike my usual well thought through point to make posts. Really, I have those... I think there was one in 2005.

It's been an emotional day. They do this "You are not immortal" course for high school kids. All about drinking and driving and EXACTLY what happens if you end up in our trauma bay in graphic detail. Including what goes in where... as a mom. I get choked up watching it. "Now I have to go call your parents." Fucks me up. Wonderful program. Made me want to make sure The Boy was safe and sound.

Apparently the May 24 weekend (because of the amount of beer you drink not because of the date) leads the way in vehicular crashes. Be careful out there...

The Boy had a rough day at school. Teasing. Kids are mean. Breaks my heart. (It does sound like the teacher did the right thing and handled it well.) How much did I hate grade schools. You love your kids so much, you just hope that others feel the same way. Unfortunately, the world is harsh sometimes.

I developped a tension headache. I've had it on and off for a week and a bit. This week I am running anyway.

Running, it turns out keeps me sane. When I don't do it. I become a bit cranky, sef-absorbed and well the world stops making sense. (Let's all sinig a Talking Heads song now... how many of you actually got that obscure reference.) I had to take last week off for general apathy (might have been allergies who the fuck knows.) And in spite of the weather and all that the world became a dark dark place. I need to run to sort it all out. Even if I don't think I am I am. And it was a great run. It felt good and it put it in perspective.

As this plays on my shuffle. Sparkle by Live.

love will overcome
if this love will make us men
love will draw us in
to wipe our tears away

But it caught me here...

Suze was kind enough to provide me with five questions as part of this meme thing from someone she reads.. who I am sure is marvelous but whose name completely escapes me. And since really all I have on the mind is why children can't tell when they are going to barf... I answered the questions. But if you, yourself, are dying for me to ask you five questions -- then let me know and I will send them to you. Oh there is supposed to be a magic word but I can't remember what it is, and now I've closed Suze's blog window... just "Oh Nat, use your oh so powerful brain to think up five really hard good questions for me." And seriously folks, I have professional training at this. I used to be a reporter. So did Suze and it shows. (Although apparently I flunked spelling.)

Now while I was writing this I had t clean up some very yucky barf. The child just sat up in bed and barfed right there. And he looked at me funny when I loudly told him to get out of bed I needed to change his sheets. Then I had to wake him up to get him out of bed. Poor kid. Damn this family needs to get healthy and fast or I am going to need to spend the night in a padded cell.

1. I know it's probably impossible to pick just one, but what's your favourite Nico memory of all time.

Favourite memories... wow. Ok, there are many memorable moments. But the first one that comes to mind was when Nico was about four years old. And we were snuggling in bed post story pre-sleep. And all evening he'd come over and kiss me on the cheek, then take his hand and rub his hand over where he'd just kissed. So finally, we're quiet and snuggling. "So Nico, why are you rubbing where you kissed?"
Very seriously he looks at me with that my-grown-ups-are-dumb and says "Don't you know, if you rub them in they last longer." So even now. Sometimes we rub in kisses.

2. We've won the lottery and decided to quit work. What do we do instead?

How much did we win? I suppose the rational answer is that we tell them men and pay the bills. But honestly. Fuck that. Let's blow it, we can get new jobs later. Get the boys, we are goign away. And if they are nice they can come. Trip to India, unless of course, Pearl Jam is on the road then I am ditching my boys for the length of the tour, picking up Julie, and we three are stalking PJ. (Or you know, you can go do something else while we stalk. It could get embrassing, but we might need someone to bail us out of jail.)
I've always wanted to take Nico around the world. And this seems like an ideal chance. Africa, Asia, Europe. All that. It's just money and you can't take it with you. Although you know... people might get barfind diseases there... aaah fuck it. Let's go.

3. You're taking your first really big trip this month to go run in a race. Where is the one place you want most to travel to in order to run?

To run? there are a number of runs I am dying to try. From the exotic to the stupid.
I am planning to run the Chicago Marathon, probably in 2008. Apparently it is totally an amazing experience, and for some reason it appeals to me more than the NYC marathon. 40,000 runners.
If I can get my time down, I'd love to run Pike Peak Ascent. It's straight up, and it scares me to death.
Also Catalina Marathon no bulls for me... I'm all about runnign with Buffalo.
I think the world's hardest marathon is in Africa somewhere hellish they say. I want to do that.. why it has to hurt I don't know. Or as The Boss said to me, 'You know you can go places and not run, eh?"
But I actually really enjoy the smaller off the beaten path runs in small community. So all permitting... more of those would be wonderful.

4. What one book should I read, what one song should I hear and what one thing should I experience and why?

Just one:
Book: Anil's Ghost -- Michael Ondaatje. Because it is the most sensual book I have ever read. You don't read this, you feel it. (And I'm pretty sure no one throws up in it.)
One song: Well you've heard most of what I have to offer. So ... hmmm... for you... We Haven't Turned Around, Gomez -- because well, I think some days it applies to way we approach the world at times. (There are many others... but I like this one. So there.)-- OH and no one throws up in this either.
One thing: Your own child (ask for the barf-free model though.) Most of the time, when I'm not this stressed out about THE PUKE, they are a source of such joy and amazement. The force you to simplify and look at the world. They do throw up though. Sometimes a lot. It is frustrating at times. The throwing up and the raising children. But overall, a good thing. Usually I think this. Right now, it feels more like the inner circles of hell.

5. If you were a vegetable (you know, the kind that grows and we eat, usually in salads or something...), what kind of vegetable would you be and why?

Ummmm... strange weird questions. Ok... well. Let's see... ok I was going to say an avocado but it's leathery on the outside and you mush up the inside. And I really dont' want people do mush me up and take out my core... you know? And besides I think it's a fruit.
Asparagus because it's tall and lean, if it's served with hollandaise sauce and butter. Sometimes get wrapped in proscutto (sp?) In fact, most things asparagus end up in taste pretty good and decadent AND as an added bonus it makes pee smell funny. As well, I can't remember ever having thrown them up.

Five questions Barf edition is now over. Aren't you glad?