Sportsmanship...Schmortsmanship...

As per Dictionary.com:  sportsmanlike conduct, as fairness, courtesy, being a cheerful loser, etc.

 As per Wikipedia:  conformance to the rules, spirit, and etiquette of sport. More grandly, it may be considered the ethos of sport. It is interesting that the motivation for sport is often an elusive element. Sportsmanship expresses an aspiration or ethos that the activity will be enjoyed for its own sake, with proper consideration for fairness, ethics, respect, and a sense of fellowship with one's competitors. Being a "good sport" involves being a "good winner" as well as being a "good loser".[1]

 Trust me, I don't want to be 'that mom'.  You know the one on the sidelines, screaming bloody murder, threat filled, obscenities at the panting child on the field.  But somewhere along the line, I think the definition of good sportsmanship has been shall we say, modified.  Being obsessive by nature and not prone to wanting to be wrong, I went in search of the elusive definition of sportsmanship.  Something they are teaching our children not only on the field, but in school as well.  My son would like to believe and quite unsuccessfully argue, that being a good sport means playing the game because you like to and it doesn't matter if you win or lose.  Just frolic around the field, laughing and giggling, merrily with your friends until the ref says it's time for snack.  Maybe this is just one more case of the people we are entrusting our children with to pound mediocrity into their heads, but I'm done.  By definition sportsmanship is about being a good winner AND a good loser.  That actually means someone MUST win and someone MUST lose.  Not just flit around until the goldfish are dispensed, but actually try to WIN!!!  Being happy that you do or don't and happy for the other players, that they all tried their best and either had a better or worse day than you did.  I swear we're teaching our kids that it's not OK to win because God forbid you hurt the feelings of the kid that did not.  This of course coming off Ethan telling me it's fine to get 2 wrong on his tests, that it is still 100%.  I'm not sure how much math has changed since I was in school oh so many years ago, but as far as I know getting anything less than all correct is not 100%!!!  Why is it so awful to teach our kids to strive to be the best? Why can't I expect him to get all the answers right?  Our kids are graduating high school and not understanding that they have to fight for that job.  They can't do it half-ass and get the promotion.  We're so concerned with everyone's feelings, 'he won't like me anymore if I take the ball from him', 'if I make too many goals he won't be my friend.'  Are you kidding me?!?!?  THAT is not good sportsmanship!!  Being happy for your friend because he did GOOD and wanting it to be you next time should be OK!!  I just want them to be the best they can be, I want them to help their friends be the best they can be also, not everyone striving to be same.  Stretching themselves, what a sad, lazy group of kids society is fighting to create. 

 

You know I love you...

I think anything that starts off with 'you know I love you' can't really be going in a good direction.  Elaina, I love you, but jeez girl, you're killing me!!!  One day you'll look back on these pages, you'll probably be a bit embarrassed, then you'll get older, possibly have children and then you'll know.  I wasn't the crazy one.  It was you.  Kindergarten started a few weeks ago and admittedly I wanted to post something sweet and sentimental about losing my daughter, my com-padre of the day to another woman but alas having only Elijah at home ROCKS!!!  So far she loves her new class and is apparently only learning about the color red.  I'm seriously giving the teacher the benefit of the doubt on this one that she is actually teaching them more and Elaina just doesn't feel that it's important enough for me to know.  She has made lots of new friends all somehow named 'Schwally',  seems odd, but hey we are technically in a new city and there are a lot of regional differences.  Along with starting the great kindergarten adventure we signed her up on her first soccer team.  Now please note, Elaina has an older brother and a younger brother.  She takes nothing off anyone, especially another cute, pigtailed, Adidas adorned girl.  See ball, get ball, put ball in goal.  It's in your best interest to simply move aside.  Just wish I could have conveyed that to her sweet little team mate, yes team mate, last night.  At the end of practice they do a little mock game, 2 on 3 as it was since 1 was sick.  Elaina being on the 2 side, eyes the prize, takes it and noting opponent in the way of the ultimate target, pushes her little 40lb friend to the ground and shoots in the goal.  33lbs of fury she is.  Mortified, I close up my camera and hang my soccer mom head in disgrace.  She was told to apologize to her unknowing friend and then taken to McDonald's, pushing bad, cheetah's determination at soccer, good.  We can see it now, our little shirt waving, ball obsessed Mia Hamm, let's just hope she has a sports bra on when she takes hers off too.  Somehow I doubt it since she thought it was hilarious that I managed to catch her without underwear when she came home from school yesterday, I guess as long as she left them here it's OK, anywhere else, not so much.

Salt

Walk in wisdom toward those who are outside, redeeming the time. Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one. ~Colossians 4: 5-6

MOPS starts next week. In the words of my daughter "I can't breathe, I can't breathe!!" Alright, I can breathe, but I'm admittedly getting pretty anxious. Yesterday we had our final planning meeting, it's all gotta be set now, sink or swim time. I talked yesterday about a verse I came across that I just can't seem to get off my mind. Which in all honesty is a good thing. I thought of posting something on our MOPS blog but figured this qualified as a life lesson for my trio so I opted here instead...

Last week I made pancakes for the kids, a fairly normal occurrence around here. Not the open package, add water till you get right consistency variety but the actual labor intensive flour, egg, milk one. Please note the level of sarcasm in the 'labor intensive' line. As I stood sentinel at the griddle the kids proceeded to slather on butter and pour the yes, homemade, syrup on their golden disks. First bites ensued as did the groans of discontent.

"These are bad"
"I don't like these"
"What kind of pancakes are these? I like the other ones..."

Ugh. Seriously? They're pancakes. Irritated, I grab a fork and proceed to show them there is nothing wrong with their breakfast. Hmmmmmm. Blech. They're right. Flat, bland, lifeless...I forgot the salt. 1/8 teaspoon, just a speck, but it made all the difference. We add salt to make the other flavors shine. We put it in savory dishes and in sweet. If you've ever experienced a caramel sprinkled with salt you would know what I'm talking about. You would also know what I'm talking about if you've ever added too much. There is no fixing a heavy hand. A potato may be added to soak up some but on a steak? or in a batter? It's ruined.

In Colossians, Paul is calling us to be authentic in our faith. Over-the-top and it's just that, too much. None at all and we're bland, lifeless. Being true to who we are so others can't put a finger on why they are drawn in, but they are none-the-less. Remembering that we're not trying to please everyone, only The One.

Homemade Pancake Syrup: 3/4 cup packed brown sugar ,1/4 cup sugar ,3/4 cup water ,1/2 cup light corn syrup ,1/2 teaspoon maple flavoring ,1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract, dash salt.
In a saucepan, combine the sugars, water and corn syrup; bring to a boil over medium heat. Boil for 7 minutes or until slightly thickened. Remove from the heat; stir in maple flavoring and vanilla. Cool for 15 minutes. Serve over pancakes, waffles or French toast. ~All Recipes.com

Normal Kids.

The steaks were nestled between the zucchini on the grill. Smoke curling in fragrant plumes across the yard, the only thing left to do was saute some mushrooms in a generous bourbon spiked sauce. Now if you've cooked with alcohol you would know to get to the source of the true flavor you have to burn off the alcohol. Fire starter in hand, Eric calls to Ethan to watch, wooooosh, flames immediately overtake the pan, dancing around the browned mushrooms. This is where I can title this "normal kids". Normal kids would go insane if they saw their dinner on fire in the kitchen. Normal kids would shout and jump up and down with squeals of delight at the show taking center stage at the stove. My kids are not normal. Ethan glances up and shrugs. Elaina and Elijah don't even acknowledge the festivities. Both parents laughing and shouting "Fuego!!", at 3, 5 and 7, they think we're so lame. Maybe that does make them normal kids. Homemade buttermilk ice cream followed, topped with fresh blueberry jam. Come to think of it, they don't have a chance in hades of being normal. Good thing normal is over rated.