We Are the Champions!

Porter's street hockey team, The Ducks, won their post season tournament last night.  

He was so excited, he exclaimed,

"We just won the Stanley Cup!!"

Well . . . actually it's a trophy with a little gold plastic hockey guy on top, 

but it FELT like the Stanley Cup! 

(If the Stanley Cup was a trophy with a little gold plastic guy on top.)

They EARNED it, though. 

I've never, in my life, seen Porter sweat so much. 

When those 8 yr-old boys take off their gear,

it just doesn't smell so good.  

End of Description.

You GO, Girl!

Kenzie initially wanted to come sign-waving with me this evening, but when we arrived, she felt apprehensive.  It was a very busy intersection, people were honking (& sometimes yelling) as they drove by.  I didn't blame her.

When I told her I didn't want to push her - that it's not her battle to fight (and even offered to give her $$ so she could wait it out at the nearby Golden Spoon) she said, "Mom, it IS my battle to fight . . . it's MY children who will be affected." 

She smiled and held her sign high, knowing that many, especially kids her age, do not share her beliefs.  And they let her know it, in UGLY ways.  She never stopped smiling her sweet, accepting, tolerant, beautiful smile.  

A mom can be proud of her courageous 16-yr-old daughter, right?

JUST A SIDENOTE:  One cute young guy who drove by yelled, "Yeah, Go Free Speech Girl!"  She didn't catch what he said, but I did.  

Mission Accomplished!

It has been almost F.O.U.R. A.N.D. A. H.A.L.F (4 1/2) years since we began Abbie's allergy desensitization shots.  

And, on Tuesday she received her FINAL set of 4 'sticks'.

It's a day to C.E.L.B.R.A.T.E.   Seriously!

It all started shortly before she turned 9 & started 5th grade - she just couldn't seem to recover from sinus infections.  We went through antibiotic after antibiotic, and finally saw a specialist who recommended that she be tested for allergies.  Sure enough, she was highly allergic to grass, trees & cats, among other things. 

We figure she has survived over 476 pokes, 

and trekked to Dr. Berger's office at least 112 times.

We are liberated!  

P.S. She is basically symptom-free (except for those darn cats) -- I call that a mission accomplished.

Housewifery in Orange County

I rarely go out to breakfast with my friends . . . but on such an occasion last month, my friends & I (who are ALL legitimate housewives -- or homemakers, as I prefer to be called) were asked to vacate our booth at Pacific Whey Cafe, so the "Real Housewives of Orange County" could use it to tape a segment for their show; my first thought was, "Am I not real?"  But we accepted his offer of free food & headed over to another, apparently less prestigious table by the window. 

REAL housewives . . . are they kidding?  I suppose if you've ever happened upon this show, you'll recognize them from the back, getting ready to sit down in OUR booth, while their cameramen schlepped in their gear --  thanks for taking the pic, Carolyn, I know that was SUPER embarrassing to be seen taking a photograph of such nonsense!

If those women are what the rest of the country thinks a 'housewife' in Orange County looks (or acts) like, I'm embarrassed.  They were so . . . artificial . . . even monster-like to me, with faces coated in make-up & streeeeetched. 

Are they, as Webster defines:  a married woman who's main occupation is caring for her family, managing household affairs, and doing housework?   Uh, don't think so...

I think the reason this was so irritating to me is that I CHERISH my role as a married woman who is faithful to my husband, and who's main occupation is caring for my family, teaching my children & managing our household affairs.  It's sacred to me.  (ok - I left out the housework part on purpose . . . but even THAT is a small price to pay for the privilege.)  And I LOVE the beauty of the area of world in which we live.

I don't struggle with inadequacy with regards to my role as 'just a wife & mom.'  I know that there is eternal influence and power in motherhood.  I know that the greatest work I will EVER do will be accomplished within the walls of my home.  That doesn't mean that I don't get discouraged -- I DO -- or want to give up -- I DO, on occasion -- but I know that what I am trying to do is important and worthwhile.  And I am really sad for those women who don't 'get it', and spend their time as wives & mothers chasing after happiness where it doesn't exist . . . and then televising it as though it's normal.  I hope it's not normal.

OK, rant over.  Whew -- I feel better now!

Speaking of Hockey!

Here's a few of our favorite Hockey Monkey . . . 

. . . in Action!  

He's the one in the white helmet 

with a tiny bit of red pants sticking out beneath his knee/shin guards.

Most of the time he's the blurry one, cuz he's moving so fast!

He L.O.V.E.S to skate all-out, full-speed-ahead, fast-as-he-can!  

I'm convinced that's his favorite part about the whole thing.  

Well, that, and all the gear (skates, knee pads, shin guards, elbow pads, gloves, 

sticks, helmet-with-face-grill, padded-undershorts-complete-with-built-in-cup called a girdle)  Which reminds me, can you just hear him loudly shouting, "Mom, did you remember to bring my pants & my GIRDLE!"  hee! hee!

After every game he N.E.E.D.s to spend some time at the skate park adjacent to the hockey rink -- Sometimes in his hockey skates, but this time he brought his skateboard.

You might notice that he is FULLY protected, uh, except for his feet.

Even the "punk's" moms make them wear TENNIS SHOES!

btw "Punks Not Dead" . . . ?

. . . But, apparently Punk - tuation IS!!!

NOTE TO SELF: NEVER, EVER drop Porter off at the skate park by himself...

NaCl . . .

Porter & Dave picked up In 'N Out on the way home from hockey last weekend. As Porter sat there, his hair drenched with sweat, eating his dinner, this is how it went:

P - "Oh shoot, we forgot the sodium chloride."

Me - "Huh?"

P - "You know, for the fries."

Me - "Huh?"

P - "Uh...Halite? -- when it's in rock form.

       The S-A-L-T!"

Oh, for heaven's sake.

This Is For You, Dood!

When your sister up & moves 7,500 miles away (to Australia, of all places; thanks Matt-y!!) taking 4 of your 8 favorite tiny relations, you gotta do something!  So, it's finally time to start our blog so we can S.H.R.I.N.K. down the miles between us.  (sorry it's taken me so long, Carrie!)  

As yet, I've only been a blog lurker, but I LOVE keeping up with my nieces' & nephews' lives via their family blogs. (thanks to BOTH my sisters, Heather AND Carrie -- one near, one far)

So . . . expect an OVERSHARE of pictures to tell the story of what the Coes are up to, but don't get your hopes up for cleverly worded or profoundly thought-provoking entries.  Not sure I'm up to that!!

Miss you, Dood!  

love, sue

P.S. In case someone besides my sis happens along - Dood is short for Carrie-Doodle, as in Yankee Doodle  --  a kind-of unfortunate nickname from my sister's childhood...that stuck!  It was 1976 -- a year filled with bicentennial celebrations, and plenty of  'I'm A Yankee Doodle Dandy' singing while dressed in red, white & blue.  (Dood's the cute little one working on Pete's hair while being held by Betsy Ross; I'm the one with looped-up braids - all ready to go sing at the mall!)