Let’s be real people….NO ONE LOOKS GOOD IN SKINNY JEANS!!! AND who thought this was a good look? I’m just sayin…
Don’t get me wrong, I love my jeans. Usually high-end, designer jeans and if I can find them on sale, all the better. I live in my jeans and have quite a few. So, when I went through my closet recently and got rid of a few old jeans, I had to replace them. SHOPPING TRIP!!!
Big mistake. Every pair of jeans in every store I went into was a skinny pair of jeans. Dark denim, light denim, distressed denim, low-rise, mid rise, capris, modern skinny, slouchy skinny and, the worst of them all, painted-on-like-white-on-rice skinny. Urrrgghhh, they all sucked.
I love the way I look in a great pair of jeans. Let me tell ya, skinny jeans are not a great pair of jeans. For starters, as you all know, I play A LOT of soccer. My thighs are developed and in the wrong pair of jeans (skinny) I look like a frog. Don’t get me wrong, I have great legs. Tan (thanks to my Hawaiian father) and in shape. You would never know it in a pair of skinny jeans.
After trying on about a dozen or so pairs of jeans, I left and indulged myself in a latte and a pedicure. I’ll buy a cute skirt!!!
These are just a sample of the lines that have been dished out in the past year from The Soccer Stud. Let me tell you…the hits just keep on comin!
The Soccer Stud shows up at my house with a rather large box wrapped in holiday wrapping and a big grin on his face. Yes, my friends, he is very pleased with himself. He thinks he is so sneaky and that I haven’t t a clue as to what is in the big box. Do I burst his bubble and just straight up tell him its a 37″ HD 1080i TV for my bedroom? Nah, that would be to easy! Do I open it and act surprised, as if I didn’t know? I’m not that nice! So, what do I do? I wait until after everyone has opened their presents, I cook breakfast, clean up the holiday mess until he can’t stand it any longer and than I guess what is inside.
Okay, so I kicked the guy where it really hurts and all he is trying to do is give me a gift. I know…probably not the best approach. What you don’t know is that the SS threw down the line of all lines….
“After the holidays, I have a big question to ask you!”
What do I do with THAT?!?! Holiday, schmoliday! If you’re gonna ask, FREAKIN ASK YOU MORON! I am not in high school and I’m not waiting until after class to find out what it is you want to ask me. In fact, I wouldn’t have waited for him to ask me anything in high school. I had people to see and places to go! Just because I have a mortgage doesn’t mean I have time to wait on your sorry ass to pop any question, let alone THE question.
The Soccer Stud has thrown down these lines before and I have believed….Lord knows….I have believed! And HE knows all my short comings and my lack of patience being one. Unfortuantely for me, I still have a little glimmer of hope that if I wait a little longer, the SS will have pulled his head out of his you-know-what and truly keep his word this time. Notice…..I’m not holding my breath!
Don’t ya just love all the clocks, ticking away the shopping minutes until there is no time left to shop? Talk about the pressure! No wonder there are fights in the parking lot over who cut in font of whom and the battle cries of “I saw it first!” in the stores. Add that to the over stimulated kids crammed into shopping carts and forced to shop until the right present is purchased, no wonder every one is screaming and crying to be set free. Even the shopping mall Santa isn’t so rosey cheeked and jolly! This was my Saturday shopping experience.
My future American Idol (this would be my 10 year old daughter that loves to sing) and one of my soccer buddies went shopping last Saturday. I was determined to complete my shopping by this weekend and my friend needed to purchase a birthday gift for her niece. My friend and I are not very girly and my friend was in dire need of some help purchasing a gift for her 6 year old niece that loves pink. Hence, I recruited my daughter’s assistance. I needed to finish up Christmas shopping for the lil soccer stud and (for me) he’s pretty easy to buy for. Video games, rip stick dlx, bikes, anything boyish is good.
After we stop off and get coffee at Starbucks, we head into the mall. No more than twenty feet into the mall we hear the most ear splitting screech ring through out the mall. We tentatively continue through the mall and the screeching is getting louder and closer. As we turn the corner to enter the store, we run smack into a very sheepish couple with a small girl and, what appears to be, a very distraught 6 year old boy in the shopping cart screaming at the top of his lungs for his parents to stop the cart and give him the toy he wanted from the store. My friend and I stare stunned at the parents while they try to, unsuccessfully mind you, sneak out of the mall with their screaming child. My FAI, on the other hand, asks the most obvious question, “Why don’t they make him shut-up Mom?” Still staring in the direction of the retreating family in holiday shopping crisis I answer “I have no idea.” My friend, who does not have children, turns to me and says “The best birth control is shopping.” Brilliant!
Okay…I know what you’re thinking. She didn’t really say that, did she? And the answer is, yes, yes I did!
Let me set the stage.
I have written about the Soccer Stud and his little soccer studs. Well…let me introduce you to my little soccer stud, my son. I have played soccer for 30+ years and at very high, competitive levels. I play three nights a week and in open divisions, except for my womens team which is an over 30 team, Masters 2.
Soccer Lingo #1: Open division is open to all ages, meaning you can play against college kids, high school kids, semi-professional, ex-pros, etc. Masters divisions differentiate skill. The higher the number, the lower the skill set. Masters 1 requires a great deal of traveling for games and, although I have played for M1 teams, I don’t have the time, money or child care to travel to other states for games.
Since my children were babies, I have been dragging my kids to my soccer games. I have never been married and the sperm donor left when I was pregnant with our son, so its always been me and the kids. I would set up the portable play pen on the side of the field, tell who ever was on the sidelines to check on the kids and ran on the field. When, my son was about 3 and, of course, we were on our way to one of my games, I noticed he was in his car seat crying. Thinking I had probably buckled him in wrong or he needed changing, I asked him what was wrong. Wiping the tears away, he said “I want to play soccer but only GIRLS play soccer!” I had to pull over I was laughing so hard! I had not realized that he had never seen anyone play soccer but my womens team! I explained to him that boys play soccer too. He didn’t seem convinced until I met the Soccer Stud (refer to “Why I Hate Dating”).
So, my son is 9 years old and has been playing soccer for 5 years and is currently a play-up player for a select club in our area.
Soccer Lingo #2: My son is a U-10 player playing up a division on a U-11 select team. A select team is exactly what it sound like. Kids try-out and are picked to play for teams based on their skill set.
Yup….that’s my little soccer stud!
The select clubs require a lot of traveling as well. On this particular day, my little soccer stud and I drove, round-trip, six hours for a league game. The driving wasn’t fun however, for a game, we drive. As you can well imagine, except for the coach and possibly one or two other parents, I know more about this game than both sides combined, including the referee. We are in a little town (how they have a select club, I have no idea) and just by watching the other team warm-up, I already know the outcome. Complete annihilation!
We are completely dominating this team and up 3-0 by the half. The ref is as clueless as his shirt is yellow (school bus yellow, to be exact). My little soccer stud’s coach is from England and I just love this guy. We have actually played together on a few teams and I beg him to come and play on my co-ed teams when we need subs. So, at half-time, the coach and I are talking about how lopsided the calls have been from the ref. All the calls have been in favor of the home team and seem to be purely emotional. Not good in anyones book.
The second half begins and my little soccer stud gets taken out from behind.
Soccer Lingo #3: A foul is called if a player goes in on a play from behind the player with the ball. This is considered a dangerous play.
The ref doesn’t call the foul and continues with the play. My little soccer stud is on the ground, rocking back and forth holding his calf where the kid just kicked the crap out of him and the ref doesn’t even stop the play. As you can imagine, I am not happy about this. My son is tougher than nails and will always get back up and play. This particular hackin will require a little time to walk it off.
Now, I let my son’s coach handle these situations and I wait until my son is off the field to go over and say “You okay, dude?” He usually tells me “Yay Mom, I’m good.” Love this kid! This time, my kid wasn’t getting up and the ref was not acknowledging an injured player on the field. The coach is yelling at the ref “player down” and nothing is happening.
Yep….you know whats comin dontcha!
I step to the sideline so the ref can see me (in a second, everyone is gonna hear me) and I yell “Hey Ref! Ya gonna blow that whistle or just suck on it?!”
TWWWEEEEEEEEEEEET!
He blew it alright! The ref comes shuffling (he is a bit big in the belly to really move any faster than a shuffle) over to the sidelines and attempts to tell me that he will have me removed. Speaking over the top of him and pointing to my son on the field, I tell him to “eat it” and address the injured child on the field. The coach doesn’t wait (love this guy, too) and walks out on the field to get my son. We continue the game, my son walks off the hack and goes back on the field to score two goals. Love this kid.
As you can imagine, there are a few parents that are not exactly happy with the comment. Do I know better than to say such things, of course. Do I give a rat’s ass what any of them think, of course not. After the game, my little soccer stud and I are driving home and I ask my son if he is okay. He shows me the cleat marks on his calf and points out the bruise already forming. He asks me if I got in trouble by the ref. I tell him it isn’t anything I can’t handle. My little soccer stud then turns to me and says “I never worry Mom. You can handle everybody.” Love this kid!
For an almost 40, totally hot, different kind of soccer mom (I say different because, except for my also totally hot friends, I not only drive my kids to soccer, I have played soccer for 30+ years and still play three times a week) this creative outlet is perfect for me. Except for the creation of my beautiful, brilliant and utterly exhausting children, I’m not a very creative person, except when I write. Somehow, the creative juice starts flowing and…viola…creativity! Let’s face it, there can only be one Martha Stewart and, to be completely honest, I don’t want the job. Honestly, Martha Stewart in shorts, running up and down a soccer field yelling for a through ball and getting laid out by a really good slide tackle, HILARIOUS! Yes, I know, the only people to find that funny would be soccer players and I am here to tell you, with the exception of the US, the number one sport in the world is European Style Football or Soccer.
Get use to it people, soccer is one of my other passions and one more thing I am really good at. You will find out I am good at quite a few things. That is why I started looking into weblogs, blogs or whatever you want to call it. I just like to write about things that are important to me. Kids, work, soccer, how I hate dating right now, why I like kissing and why I think kissing is a lost art, or whatever just gets me going and for whatever reason. I am a very busy single parent with great kids, an awesome job and great friends and family. Yes, I am very A-typical, if you haven’t guessed yet and NO I don’t sleep more than about two hours at a time. My house can only get so clean. Hence, my own blog.
Other than being a single parent, this blog is the only thing I do alone. I am usually with my kids or one of my three soccer teams or at work. I manage a construction company and we just hit our busy season. You’re probably thinking that I am crazy or that my lifestyle is crazy or that I most assuredly need the wonder drug of our generation, Prozac. And I have to tell you that I love my life. It is filled with wonderful people, experiences and thoughts and, because we have the world wide web, we get to share it with anyone who is interested and with those who are just bored and have nothing better to do than read about other peoples lives. Why do you think gossip magazines are so big.
Are you interested yet? Hopefully, I have charmed you enough to want to stay tuned for my next post which I have decided will be “Why I Hate Dating Right Now”. Who knows, I might get on a roll and stay with it for a couple posts. Either way, I plan on being here for a while.
In My Own Skin 