Pizza Weekend

It’s the last day of soccer.  The last day of soccer.  

Squish’s team won, ZB’s team timed, and Squish had her banquet today. 

ZB gets his on Monday. 

ZB’s birthday is today, but his party is tomorrow. 

Yes, you heard that. Pizza. Three days in a row.  

And cake and cookies…

Ugh.  *rubs stomach*

Yeah.  There’s a reason we call it pizza weekend.  

But other than that, all the other stuff is pretty neat.  Squish assisted a goal, Mate got to coach both games (he’s assistant coach for Squish’s game, which means he’s not always there) and I actually talked to the coaches at Squish’s banquet.  I know this is gonna blow your minds, but I’m actually a little shy around the soccer people.  Uhm, I don’t play soccer, I have no interest in sports, and my competitive nature is usually drugged by sugar and comatose.  I’m not your average soccer mom, and I’m always very conscious of the fact that, unless they read romance or like radical politics, we usually have one thing and one thing in common: our offspring participate in a game that my genetics have rendered it almost impossible for my own offspring to contribute to.  

I’m always a little embarrassed.  It’s like, “Yup– that goal she stopped?  That was her father.  That, uhm, distinctive run?  That’s all me.  Sorry. The other kids got it too.  Yup.  So sorry. Blame me. Sorry!”

But this time there was a conversation.  Granted, it was about Mate, who wasn’t there because he was coaching his game, but since Mate is so awesome, I had something to talk about.

Anyway…

So, oh yeah– I sort of buried the lead under pizza.

ZoomBoy is eleven today.

He’s all legs.  And big brown eyes. And creative ideas. And a catalog of information about fictional realms that I cannot even fathom.  

And joy. 

And imagination.

And lego specs.

And kindness toward children and small animals.  

And cruelty toward his sister followed by contrition.

And black and white stick drawing cartoons.

And puns.  

And computer genius.

And OUTRAGEOUS fibs. 

And feet.  Oh my God would you look at his feet?  They’re bigger than mine! (But not as swollen and fat.)

And potential and possibility.

And mommy love.

And awesomeness.  Oh, Goddess, when we’re talking about my ZoomBoy, let’s talk about the awesomeness.  You’re leggy wonderful quickly growing elbows, ears, and awesomeness.

And I love you.  Even when our ADHD is competing together for most obnoxious, I still love you.  Even when you win that contest.  

You make me so proud.

So, anyway– tomorrow, there’s pizza and cake and housecleaning.  And tired kids (who are already tired because soccer, soccer banquets, and housecleaning!)  

And ZB’s friends and giant lego toys.  And a new area rug and a beanbag chair, and fun.

You’re my bread and butter baby.  All white food, very dependable that way.  

And my joy.  

Happy Birthday, Zoomboy.  Don’t worry about mom and dad eating too much pizza.  Tonight I made us soup and salad, and we’ll use that to stay young and healthy for you.

As you grow into the stratosphere, beyond this world, into others, into the stars.

That’s how you go ZOOM!