Quite Taxing

I may not be a CPA, but I do know one thing.....
Saturday + Taxes = :-/

Mob Rule

It's been a solid month since our Oldest Girl ventured off to Turkey for a semester of study abroad. She's settled in nicely and seems to be having a blast in spite of the rather huge language barrier and the record snowfall in the area where she's living. She also seems to be navigating this new adventure with relative ease and has managed to find her way around the city despite the confusing Turkish streets and bus routes. Our girl has, however, experienced a little bit of culture shock, which mostly pertains to how the, um, 'facilities' are positioned relative to the floor. (Let's just say that being able to keep one's balance is a key requirement.)

Anyway, while I have thoroughly enjoyed hearing about her new adventures, I've also been nostalgic and contemplative since her departure. Recently I was reminded of one of my favorite stories about her as a first grader, which involves her first experience playing rec league soccer. Oldest Girl had watched her older brother play for a couple years and decided she wanted to give it a try too. We bought her the tiniest soccer cleats you’ve ever seen, and the smallest shin guards available and off she went to her first practice. Our girl was one of the smallest players on her team and didn’t really understand the game yet, but she enjoyed running around in her new shoes, and socializing with the other kids on her squad. The team met regularly for several weeks of practice and the coach worked patiently with the 6 and 7 year old kids, drilling them on the fundamentals of ball handling, kicking, position assignments, and strategy.

When it was finally time for the first real game, most of the kids were still a bit clueless about the nuances of how the game is played (unless, of course, you count running around in new shoes and socializing with the other kids on the squad.) The coaches for both teams assembled the players in their proper positions on the field, and the ref blew the whistle to start the game.

It was instant chaos! The “strategy” that the coaches had instilled in the young players was quickly forgotten and all the kids from both teams (even the goalies!) ran straight for the ball, congregating in a huge mass in the center of the field, kicking and scrambling for a piece of the elusive ball. This was nothing like practice, where everyone was in organized lines and participated in orderly drills, taking turns kicking the ball. This game looked more like two rival gangs of fire ants chasing (en masse) after a soccer ball-sized picnic crumb.

Image borrowed from here.

However, Oldest Girl was a bit timid at first, and she lagged behind the throng of “fire ants” and instead spent her time skipping around safely near the sideline of the field. Gradually she began to feel a bit more comfortable, and we saw her inch toward the action; she even made one or two timid moves toward actually kicking the ball. We watched as our girl gathered courage and she even made contact with the soccer ball, only to be pushed and shoved repeatedly by the other eager players. Then Oldest Girl stopped cold in her tracks in the center of the field, and I was worried that she was about to cry; or worse, that she was about to give up. Instead, she had apparently had some sort of a misguided epiphany. I can almost imagine her thinking, “Oh! So this is how the game is played!” It was like a light had come on in her little 6-year-old mind, and she ran over -- as fast as she could -- to a kid from the opposing team who happened to be lagging behind the group of players. With her entire 38-pound being, Oldest Girl shoved the unsuspecting player, knocking him out of her way like there was no tomorrow! No matter that the kid wasn’t even trying to make a play and that the ball was nowhere nearby. Before that kid could regain his bearings (or the coaches could react to the obvious foul) off our little hellion ran to find the next victim opponent. For the next few minutes we saw her chase down kid after kid, pushing and shoving with abandon…and maybe even with just a hint of delight.

After the game Oldest Girl told me how much fun she’d had and she couldn’t wait to do it again! Her dad and I asked her why she was so rough with the other kids and she told us that she thought the purpose of the game was to push as many kids as possible! We (her dad and I and Oldest Girl’s coach) quickly put an end to her mistaken notion, and eventually she learned the rules and became an adept little player. She even went on use her 'killer' skills in her intramural soccer league in college. :)

Worth 1000 Words

Home.
:)

Breaking News

Punxsutawney Phil called for an early spring. When asked for a statement, Mother Nature replied, "No comment."

Film at 11.

[Stay warm and think Spring!]

Groundhog image found here.

Sound Advice...Especially For a Monday

"Never bend your head. Always hold it high.
Look the world straight in the eye."

~Helen Keller

***

(Great advice, but I suppose it might involve getting out of bed first. ;)

A One and A Two, And Away We Go

Friday was a bittersweet day. Our oldest daughter left to study abroad for a semester at a university in the country of Turkey. It will be 4 long months for me...4 glorious months of adventure for her. It was such a weird, happy, sad, exciting, stressful, and wonderful morning as we drove to the airport.

I went over the checklist, and we checked it twice:

Do you have your passport?
Yes, Mom.
Do you have your computer charger?
Yes, Mom.
What about your wallet?
Of course.
Do you think we should get you some more cash?
Nope, I think I have plenty.
Toothbrush! Did you pack your toothbrush?!
Yes, Mom, and toothpaste. (Eyes rolling ever so slightly now.)
Socks? What about socks? Shower shoes? And a rain jacket? You know you'll need a rain jacket!
Yes! Yes!! YES!
Did you pack underwear?
Gah, Mom! Yes! I got everything.
Wait!! Are you sure you have your passport??
MOM!!! Please!

Once we had confirmed (and reconfirmed) that, yes, indeed all necessary documents and undergarments were securely packed, away we went. Part of the two hour drive was filled with laughter and nervous chatter. Part of the journey, we just sat quietly thinking and wondering about what the coming months would be like.

As fate would have it (and in spite of my OCD list checking) we still had to make a last minute pit stop at Target -- the strap on on my girl's purse broke literally on the way to the airport, so we had to find a quick make-do. We rushed in and out of Target in record time and were quickly back on the road. Fortunately we had time to spare because, even with the unplanned diversion to Target, my girl and I arrived at the airport no less than four hours early. Yes, folks, let's take a moment to let that to sink in. Four. Hours. Early. Clearly, I must have been nervous about traffic. Or maybe every clock in our house was off by 2 hours. Or perhaps I was just hyped up on little sleep and copious amounts of caffeine. Whatever the reason, I wanted to make doubly sure we got to the airport in plenty of time so my girl didn't have any stress about missing her flight. Apparently there was not much of a chance of that.

Anyway, we got her luggage checked in and the reality of the "adventure" began to really set in. Then the tears started to flow. The ticket counter attendant took pity on me and offered us a pass so that I could wait with my girl at the gate until her flight took off. Tell me there aren't nice people left in this world! Plus, the ticket attendant probably took pity on my daughter too when she noticed that I had gotten her to the airport four...hours...early. So I escorted my world traveler through security and to the gate, and we spent a little more quality time laughing and talking before her flight.

After lots of hugs and a tearful goodbye, I sent her on her way, and then I made my way out of the airport. At least I thought I was making my way out of the airport. I walked and walked and walked and walked and tried to look like I knew where I was going like an experienced world traveler. I finally found the exit just as I was beginning to wonder if I might still be wandering the halls of the Atlanta airport when my girl gets home in June.

I'm proud of these kids of mine and admire them in their quests for excitement and adventure... but, in all honesty, finding my way out of the actual airport was enough excitement and adventure to last me for a while!!
:)

Rain (or snow) On My Tin Roof

This song makes me smile.
And maybe I needed a smile today because I am getting tired of snow and ice, and shoveling snow, and scraping ice, and fighting with boots that keep eating my socks, and contending with a temperamental heater, and cold feet, and wiping up snow and ice, and cleaning up mud, and having to give wet muddy dogs a bath, and washing 18 loads of towels and socks and gloves, and then listening to myself complain about snow and ice, and shoveling snow, and scraping ice, and fighting with boots that keep eating my socks.....

I think that cabin fever has set in and the only cure for cabin fever (and snow and ice, etc.) is lots of sunshine and warmer days, and perhaps waiting patiently for Spring, and listening to songs that make me smile.

Snow-zone

Homeland security. :)

The road less traveled, our driveway.

Big Foot sighting, on our front porch?

Jude, He-man Cat Hater, absolutely adores snow.

Cooper, eh, not so much.

(photos courtesy of my youngest.)

The Holidays May Be Over

But here's to a happy start to the week.

1/1/11

Happy New Year!
We are #1!!