season opener

The season kicked off last night with the GP/King game. GP started weak, got angry and strong and came back… but pulled back in the end and lost. 28-20. Monkey had a sore throat and a cough, so we left after half time. When we left, I was sure they were going to win. Oh well.

It was nice to be back at the stadium. We have season tickets (to watch the band, mainly), and we’re surrounded by the same people every year. There are 3 sweet older men who sit behind us every year, and the really large one likes Duckie. Last year he frequently made comments that Duckie is so cute he wants to eat him up. I’m hoping to heaven that he doesn’t make comments like that this year, because Duckie is likely to believe him at this age (especially considering the man’s size).

My boys are complete opposites at the games. Last night, Monkey got out of the car with a book. Some fantasy novel. I made him put it back, but when we got to our seats, I found out that he had a mini electronic game in his pocket (20 Q), and he played that for the entire duration of the first half. Duckie, on the other hand, LOVES football, and kept whooping and clapping when there was a good play on the field. The only thing that got Monkey excited was when the clock showed 10 seconds to half-time. (He wants to be a drummer, and LOVES watching the band.) He put his 20Q game away when the teams left the field.  Duckie yelled,”Hey! Where are the football teamers going?!” He’s a toddler with limitless energy, so I knew he wouldn’t be able to grasp that they had to go rest. So I told him they all had to go potty really bad. He nodded. That he CAN relate to.

The half time show was really good. GP’s sound and show was SO much stronger than that of King. Am I biased? Yeah. But so what. Once a band geek, always a band geek. (I am having shirts made for E and myself that say, “Proud former G-P band geek”… and the back is going to say, “Old band geeks never die… they just leave after half-time.”) (I had shirts made for Froggie and her two friends that say “GP MARCHING BAND” and in smaller print underneath it says “What’s the football team doing on our field?!”)

After half time, we left so Monkey could get to bed (he took a benadryll at the game, and was crashing). We had to rush out before the teams took the field again, because Duckie would have thrown a fit if he knew the game wasn’t over.

Froggie was excited because it was her first game as a band officer. She got to meet the other band’s officers, and introduce them to the GP band (and she and the other GP officers got introduced to King’s band). It’s a big deal to band geeks, and she was really happy. She was still talking about it this morning.

This morning, Monkey was talking about how cool the drum line looked, and how cool it was that a member of the football team marched with the drum line wearing his football uniform (now that’s a dedicated band geek). The first thing Duckie asked upon waking was, “Is there another football game today?”

summer is officially over

The older two kids started school today. Froggie, being Froggie, managed to leave in a huff, angry at the world because the dress code is so stupid, and the fact that they’re not allowed to eat lunch in the bandhall this year is stupid. (I’m pretty sure that I heard her declare something I did or said was stupid, too… but I can’t be 100% certain.)

Monkey was super-scared. He started 5th grade today. A new school. When we went to school here (back in the days of the dinosaur), elementary went through 6th grade. E and I walked in with him, got him situated, and helped him learn how to open his locker. Intermediate School is in our old junior high building… and oddly enough, Monkey’s home room class is the same class room in which I met my now-husband. (We weren’t friends then… we just met in there. He was a super-quiet nerd and I was something of a trouble maker. I got excellent grades, but I liked to stir stuff up back then. I recall playing Van Halen’s “Hot For Teacher” several days in a row, when our VERY overweight male teacher would walk into the room.. just to make everyone laugh.)

Monkey has a tiny little class for home room. He’s one of 10 kids (odd, because a lot of the other classes have 25 kids.) At first we thought it was a class of GT kids, but ends up it’s not. The numbers just worked out that way.

A lot of the parents stuck around for quite a while, and we got to hear the kids introduce themselves to the teacher. She asked them to state their name, and a fact or 2 about themselves. There was the usual “I’m __, and I like baseball,” and the like. Then she asked one kid his name. He answered. Then he couldn’t think of anything to say about himself. So she asked, “Well, what did you do all summer?” He said, “Played video games.” She smiled and said, “My 5 year old daughter loves video games! What kind do you play?” He answered, “Killing games.” Oh. Hm. The look on the teacher’s face was priceless. You could almost hear her telling herself, “Keep smiling… don’t looked shocked.” (The result was a shocked-looking smile.) So then, she said, “Well, I like video games, too, but I don’t play killing games… I like puzzle games.”
“You mean like Brain Age?”
“Yes, like Brain Age.”
“Yeah… I stole that game, but I hardly ever play it.”
And again, with the pasted-on shocked smile. (I didn’t bother to smile.. I was just plain shocked and probably looked it.)

THEN she asked another kid for her name and a fact about herself. “My name is Amber,” [Amber can't pronouce her Rs] “and I’m named after my mothuh’s fwiend.” (“Oh, that’s so nice… to be named after someone your mom loves.”) “Uh-huh. My mom’s fwiend was named Ambuh, but when they wuh teenaguhs, my mom’s fwiend was on dwugs weal bad, and she couldn’t stop, so the state took her away fwom her mothuh… and my mom nevuh saw her fwiend Ambuh again, so she named me aftuh her.” Geez. Louise. (And again, the teacher smiled through her shock. I think she was making mental notes: “Remember to hug 5 year old daughter extra tight when I get home tonight.”) A few parents introduced themselves too. I WANTED to say, “I’m C.. Monkey’s mom… and apparently my household is very sheltered.” But instead I told the story of meeting my husband in that very classroom. (And made a mental note to hug my kids extra tight today.)

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Weird Monkey

Last weekend (June 2-3), Monkey decided to enter a contest sponsored by a local radio station. The prize: two front row seats to the Weird Al contest, two back stage passes, and an accordion that Weird Al would autograph for the winner. The assignment: make a video (either copying one of Weird Al’s -or- write a spoof song of your own, and set it to music). Monkey chose the latter. He set about writing a spoof of R.E.M.’s “Everybody Hurts.”

He won.

The concert was spectacular. (The only “bad” part was a few minutes before the show started: the woman sitting next to me probably tipped the scales at 250 or so, and when she sat down, her thigh and part of her butt were on my leg.) Monkey LOVED every minute of it (and there were a LOT of minutes… it was 2.5 hours long.) He sang along with nearly every tune, and kept turning to me with a look of utter elation. He also got a thrill early on, when we were still waiting for the gates to open: Someone in line recognized him. We heard a woman say “Hey, I think that’s the kid who (murmur murmur murmur)” and the man she was with turned his head towards us really fast and said, “Who? Oh, yeah.. Mr. Monkey. Congratulations, man!” Then others were whispering, “Oh, that’s him!” (and the like). My son smiled, nodded, and said, “Thank you.” He’s very quiet & reserved, but *I* could tell that he was uber thrilled.

Weird Al had soooo many costume changes; he had a different costume for every song.

(Between songs, they’d play clips from Al TV on 3 large screens.) There were a LOT of songs. By far, the biggest crowd-pleasers were the 2 Star Wars themed ones (Yoda and Saga). (Geek crowd.)

A popular one with the ladies was “Wanna B Ur Lover,” a funny “love song.” Even though it was a crazy song, Froggie heard one woman say “That’s HOT.” (Again, it was a geek crowd.) (Some women love jocks. Some love gangsters. And some love silly brainiacs. I guess it’s Nature’s way of making sure every group procreates and continues on.)

After the show, someone came and presented Monkey with the accordion. It’s a really pretty pearly white Sofia Mari. While Weird Al changed, we waited with security guards, behind a gate. A drunk man (fan) standing near us kept asking my son if he’s going to learn how to play. Monkey kept answering with various forms of “I don’t know.” “I might,” etc. He finally gave up answering and just shrugged. Oddly, the drunk guy seemed more satisfied with the shrug, and finally stopped asking.

When we went in, the first thing Weird Al said was, “That’s a beautiful accordion… may I play it…?” Monkey placed it on the table, and Weird Al tried to play it. (Click pic below to view video.)

Ends up it’s not the kind of accordion he plays, but he still thought it was “cool.” He told Monkey he should learn how to play it, because “The world needs more accordion players.” In person, he’s not at all what he is on tv. My son expected to see the guy that he’s seen in interviews with Conan or Dave Letterman. He was the complete opposite. (My son later commented, “I always thought that high pitched voice was his real voice!”) He was very quiet and shy. He spoke very softly. I think Monkey was relieved to find that he *wasn’t* wacky and way-out when we met him (because Monkey is shy himself, and I think he was a little nervous about meeting Wacky Weird Al). (He reminded me of my son, really. Brilliant if strange mind. Silly on stage. Reserved, soft spoken, and insecure in “real life.”) I noticed he found it easier to talk to children, and I never saw him make eye contact with an adult. When he signed autographs for adults, he kept his eyes down, or looking around. Not rude, just insecure. He was very kind to Duckie, and shook his hand, saying, “Hello there.. I’m Al… very nice to meet you,” and he slumped down low in his chair, for a photo with Duckie, so that their faces would be closer.)

When posing for photos, he looked at the kids rather than the camera.When we got home, Monkey played the accordion until after midnight. Even though he doesn’t say, I can hear the gears in his head cranking. In a distant part of his little mind, he can picture himself learning to play the thing and growing up to use his intelligence and silliness together, to make people laugh. I think he can see himself becoming the next Weird Al. Weird Monkey.

they might be (fuzzy) giants

This was the first weekend in quite a while that none of the kids had an athletic or academic function we had to attend. It was nice to be able to relax for a change. E and I took the kids to the Sunset Lake running/bike path on Saturday. The path itself is a mile long (one way). We all rode our bikes to the lake, and Eric pulled Ducky in his little bike cart. Ducky’s tricycle was strapped to the cart, so he was able to ride when we got to the path.

We went to a Corpus Christi Hooks game yesterday. The Hooks wore pink jerseys, in honor of the Hooks’ Breast Cancer Awareness Day.

The game was pretty sad… the Hooks lost 10-3 against the San Antonio Missions, making their season record 8-21. The only good part of the game: Froggie and I got coupons to redeem for free pink Hooks caps.

On Sundays, the kids get to run the bases after the Hooks’ games. Monkey took Ducky to run. The Hooks’ and H.E.B. mascots (Sammy the Seagull , Rusty Hook, and H.E. Buddy) were waiting at home plate, to congratulate each kid. Ducky was terrified. I guess he just couldn’t wrap his mind around 8-or-9-feet tall fuzzy characters who stare down at kids with loony smiles and unblinking eyes. So while most kids reached home plate, hugging and giving high-fives to the giant characters, this was Ducky’s reaction:

When I was putting him to bed, all he could talk about was how scary Sammy the Seagull was, and how he didn’t want to look at H.E. Buddy *ever* again. Okay. Fine. But. He still wants to run the bases next time we go (at age 3, he has decided he wants to be a “baseball teamer” when he grows up, and running the bases at Whataburger Field is as close as he can get right now). I told him I’ll go with him next time, and carry him when we get near the mascots. Not good enough. He wants to make sure that I will *run* past the mascots, at full speed. He even stood up and showed me how: “You’ll have to waggle your arms like this,” he said (showing me the proper runner’s arm-pumping motion). I told him I would. But he squinted his eyes and thought for a while, and realized I wouldn’t be able to properly “waggle” both of my arms, while carrying him (therefore, I would not be able to run fast enough). I told him maybe I could put him in his sling (a carrier I have used since he was an infant, which allows me to carry him and have both hands free). He liked the idea. “Okay. Yes. Go get it.” Oy. He wanted to practice right then and there. I assured him that we didn’t need to practice, and all would go well the next time he/we run the bases. I guess it was good enough for him, because he fell asleep soon after that.

Simon*

Today, when I was walking to pick up Monkey from school, another mom stopped me and wanted to tell me a story about him. “I know I’d want to know if it was my son,” she said. I braced myself a bit, hoping it wasn’t one of those scenarios E and I talk about once in a while. (“If my kid was [smoking pot, sneaking out, etc.], I’d want to know.”)

Her kiddo, D, is a new student at their elementary. (He started the school year here, but this is his first year at this school and in this town.) Apparently, from Day One, several kids in the class picked on D, and he went home crying nearly every day. Kids would pick on him, push him, call him names, and hide his things. Kids can be so freakin’ cruel. Things escalated, with the kids egging each other on. This woman said that on one day in particular, one of the kids took D’s back pack and shoved it into the trash can. Several kids crowded around, laughing. Each time D advanced to try to get his backpack out of the trash, the mean kid would push or trip him. D told his mother that during the whole encounter, Monkey was sitting at his desk reading. Then D saw Monkey stand up and walk across the classroom. He walked up to the mean kid and told him, “That’s enough. No more. Give him his backpack, and leave him alone. ” D told his mother that Monkey “didn’t even have to yell.” He stood there until the backpack was returned. Then he just went back to his desk to read. (That’s Monkey… always reading!) D’s mom said that that was the last day anyone in the class picked on her son. She’d already thanked Monkey several months ago, but wanted to be sure that she told me because she figured Monkey wouldn’t tell us about it himself.

It’s days like this that make parenthood (and all the sleepless nights, trips to the emergency room, etc.) worth it.

*simon is a literary character that has always reminded me of monkey

A joke, Ducky style

Video taken last night (Ducky’s final day of being 2 years old):

Combos commercial

Everyone was talking about the Super Bowl commercials Monday morning. The one I thought was THE funniest was never mentioned anywhere, so I am posting it here for everyone to enjoy.

It has me growling “love ya” to the kids this week.