I am making new alliances and trying to break old ones without looking like a conniving beyotch. I am firmly straddling two opposing sides, double-agent style, while the game plays out and other people reveal their loyalties. No, I'm not on a reality TV show although I think I could be. I am negotiating my daughter's soccer team for next year.
Apparently, it's like this every year; a complete and utter bun-fight. We had one girl leave the current team because her family is moving abroad and another quit soccer altogether and suddenly it's all up for grabs! Like dominos they fell until only five players were left: three definites and my daughter and her best friend who had offers from another team.
So we look for substitutes for Team A while keeping our options at Team B open. Team A = very convenient practices and great experience (plus we just bought $100 worth of uniform for them). Team B = much less convenient location, second-mortgage-time expensive but great reputation. Hmmmmm.
It will all come to a head in the next week or so when a final decision has to be made. I will hopefully come out of this unscathed, carrying the winner's torch and gaining the ultimate prize: a happy 10 year-old girl.
p.s. Sadly, while gruelling and cut-throat, Survivor: Suburbia has not resulted in any significant weight-loss.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
The Darndest Things
The final weeks of school are always a little crazy-- field trips, school-wide theme days, summer birthdays celebrated early, dress rehearsals, recitals, tournaments, try-outs, conferences, committee meetings, teachers' gifts, library books to be tracked down, and on and on.
I think I look forward to and appreciate the lazy, carefree days of summer because they come on the heels of so many concurrent-- and sometimes conflicting-- obligations.
Yesterday I had to force my son to come inside and fill out a questionnaire about second grade. His answers, along with those of his classmates, will be assembled into a "memory book" for his teacher, Mrs. F. And those answers had to be in today (along with a check and a recent photo of my son, which, because I didn't have one handy, I actually had to take and print before the bus came).
Mrs. F. is a wonderful teacher. My son had a great year. Unfortunately, his monosyllabic or near-monosyllabic responses to questions like "What was the best part of second grade?" (gym) and "What did you enjoy most about class?" (tadpoles) don't quite convey the warm feelings and appreciation I had hoped for. But he's eight. And a boy. And being 100% genuine. I assume a second grade teacher can appreciate those things.
The worst/best part was how he finished the prompt "I like Mrs. F because...."
His response: I like Mrs. F because she doesn't yell too much.
High praise in his mind but it reads like it belongs here .
I think I look forward to and appreciate the lazy, carefree days of summer because they come on the heels of so many concurrent-- and sometimes conflicting-- obligations.
Yesterday I had to force my son to come inside and fill out a questionnaire about second grade. His answers, along with those of his classmates, will be assembled into a "memory book" for his teacher, Mrs. F. And those answers had to be in today (along with a check and a recent photo of my son, which, because I didn't have one handy, I actually had to take and print before the bus came).
Mrs. F. is a wonderful teacher. My son had a great year. Unfortunately, his monosyllabic or near-monosyllabic responses to questions like "What was the best part of second grade?" (gym) and "What did you enjoy most about class?" (tadpoles) don't quite convey the warm feelings and appreciation I had hoped for. But he's eight. And a boy. And being 100% genuine. I assume a second grade teacher can appreciate those things.
The worst/best part was how he finished the prompt "I like Mrs. F because...."
His response: I like Mrs. F because she doesn't yell too much.
High praise in his mind but it reads like it belongs here .
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