Crazy me. I took on the job of club administrator - which was not entirely nuts - but then I also took on the job of manager for the U-15 team, Brady's team. That has been a disaster from the start. Not because I don't like the kids, not because I don't like soccer, but because I have only seven players. You need 11 to play, and a few subs wouldn't be a bad idea either, seeing as games are 80 minutes long. For some reason there just aren't enough players to form a team in this age group. We've cancelled 3 games and showed up to last weekend's tournament with 8 players, no uniforms, and no coach. I was handing out (the wrong) uniforms on the sideline, which made us look like a ragamuffin team. But that wasn't nearly as hilarious as watching me - at 5'2" - huddle up the tall, 15 year old boys and ask, "What position do you play again? Ok, keep doing that."
I begged, borrowed, and stole players from our younger teams to fill my roster. I called players who hadn't returned to the club and begged them to fill in for the tournament. We managed to have 11 players on the field for all 3 games - 3 of them were goalies - and we managed to tie one game while losing the other two. I also managed to get two other coaches to help me but they could only make it to one half of a game each.
One player quit today. One's injured. Two want to defect to another team to play with their friends (who can blame them - can I go too?). And my goalie says he'll play "when he can." One wants to play but he can't get his player pass approved. Only four are carded, show up regularly, and want to play soccer for my team.
I'm waving the white flag. Can you see it? I'm also calling UNCLE, mowing S.O.S. into my front yard, and pretending to have heart palpitations so someone will take mercy on me and relieve me of my duties. Wait, those heart palpitations are real.
This, and last week's registration nightmare, has consumed me full-time for two weeks now. I've apologized to Jonathan for taking so much time away from him, and things like blogging and cleaning my house and sleeping and eating have gotten pushed to the back burner. Speaking of burners, today I charred an egg beyond recognition. I suppose burning an egg is better than my entire right hand, but it still means I haven't heeded the messages in burnt toast, burnt eggs, or burnt fingers. Did you know burns turn a deep, dark brown when they heal? *shudder*
Trouble is, I'm involved now and can't retreat without letting down a small group of soccer players who are looking to me to work this out one way or another. They're good kids. They enjoy practice despite the horrible odds against them. They laugh and humor me when I try to coach them myself. They blush and look away when I promise homemade cookies if they'll show up. I will carry on until I know just what is going to happen with this team, whether that means forging ahead and finding more players or scrapping the team and folding them into the older teams. And after that - NEVER AGAIN.
Despite this crisis, we've managed to carry on with regular life and all its opportunities for fun. Here is a snapshot view of what we've been up to. (I'm the one behind the camera with a cell phone attached to my ear saying things like, "No, I really need you for THIS game, if you can't find a ride I will drive (30 minutes out of my way) to get you!")
Flat Stanley came for a visit! All the way from the UK! He's been going on adventures with us! Translation: to soccer, soccer, and soccer.
We had an outing at Angelic Organics. The farm is incredibly inspiring, but the coolest part? Mom in Madison joined us! I love meeting bloggers in real life. Here our blogger sons feed a baby goat together. And yes, that's a Heineken bottle, sans the beer.
Jonathan made a good climbing structure for said goat, too.
Oh the garden... My yard always looks bedraggled in the spring, when the dandelions let loose (we're die-hard organic here) and the grass grows long because soccer takes every waking moment (and then some). I just close my eyes, knowing that come June, dandelion season is over and somehow, somewhere, I manage to carve out enough time to get seeds planted and beds turned.
I had the bright idea to burn the dried garden stalks on my garden and spread the loose ash. But we've had so much rain it was too damp. It took me a dozen tries to get the piles lit. We will be hauling dried garden stalks to the compost pile.
Here, Flat Stanley keeps watch over my newly planted herb seeds.
And it's gotten so busy 'round here, Jonathan has resorted to leaving notes for us on doors.
But the biggest event? PROM.