The Wind.

Sydney had two hours of street soccer today. The wind is blowing 35 to 45 mph with higher gusts. The soccer field is a gigantic open field outside the Bloomington airport surrounded by barren farm land. There are NO structures to block the wind.

My plan was to watch from the car. Her coaches moved her group to the far away soccer field. I could not see. I'm certain it was a conspiracy. **Note to self, purchase binoculars during next Walmart trip.**

I left the safety of my car. It took me 15 minutes to walk against the wind to get to her field. It took me another 10 minutes to remove my chair from its bag and wrestle it to the unfolded position. I put the camera on the ground while I wrestled. The camera began to tumbleweed away from me. I let go of the chair to chase the camera. I caught the camera, just in time to see the chair fly by. It took myself and two other people to catch the chair and wrestle it back to the field. I really hate the wind.

I sit and watch the game. Well, I tried too. The wind is blowing my hair in every direction. I feel like I have my own personal tornado overhead.

I tried to take pictures. Every shot either had my hair in it or was blurry. The gusting wind prevented my hands from holding the camera still. This is the only shot I managed:

A self portrait of sorts.

It was the longest two hours of my life. I'm really not certain exactly how much soccer was actually played. I think the kids spent more time chasing the balls that were taken away by the wind. Parents chased the balls too. I did not. I was afraid my chair would fly away again.

She's done. I'm trying to wrestle my chair back into the bag. The wind fills the bag, rips it out of my hands and takes it far, far away. I'm not chasing the bag. No one else did either. I'm certain it is sitting on runway #3 of the Bloomington airport. And I don't really care anymore.

Did I mention that I hate the wind?

"My mom is strange."

I've become very accustomed to Sydney and her friends thinking I am strange for constantly taking pictures. The majority of them have gotten used to seeing me, camera in hand, snapping pictures of just about everything. I have gotten used to their questions "Why are you always taking pictures?" and their comments "Sydney's mom, you are soo strange!" Hell, my own friends think I'm weird sometimes.

I can handle all this. I'm a big girl. I have broad shoulders. And besides, one day when Sydney and her friends are old, they will thank me for taking all those pictures. I am certain of it.


The other day I sat in my car while she was at soccer practice. Her group was at least a soccer field away from where I was sitting so, at full zoom, I figured I was safe from any of them noticing that I was just a snappin away. I uploaded the pictures to my computer and briefly took note of a couple of mediocre shots.


I love the look on her face in this one **snicker, snicker**:

And this one would have been a great action shot had I not cut the top of her head off:

I was really shooting blindly as I was shooting into the late day sun and because the camera was at full zoom, I had to keep the camera perfectly still. I had no way of looking at the display screen to see what I was taking pictures of. I like to refer to this style as Hail Mary Photography.


This was another I took:


They all look cute in their uniforms. I see Sydney in the picture and at second glance I notice she seems to be looking at me. And then I look a little closer and I notice Coach Hottie seems to be looking at me too. So today I cropped and zoomed in on that end of the picture:



Not only are they looking at me, THEY ARE LAUGHING AT ME TOO! I can just imagine what they are saying. Sydney, "My mom is strange." followed by laughter. Coach Hottie, "Yes Sydney, she is." followed by more laughter.


Like I said. I can handle her and her friends laughing at me...no problem. But COACH HOTTIE?? Ugh...

V is for Violin

Andrew's class is learning about the letter "V" this week. The theme of the discussion at the dinner table Monday evening was what "V" item could we find for Andrew to bring for show and tell. Sydney's violin immediately came to mind and we discussed the fact that maybe each of the kids in his class could have a turn plucking a string. Sydney mentioned that not only was V for violin, but V is also for Violinist. To our surprise, she jumped in and volunteered to not only bring her violin to the class for him, but would also play a couple of songs. Andrew's eyes beamed with excitement.


Before school this morning the two went through one of her music books and carefully selected the pieces she would play.


So at 9:00 this morning I signed her out of school. Although she talked to me about being nervous, once she entered the classroom and introduced herself it became perfectly clear that the nerves had exited the building.

She began by naming the different parts of the violin.



Told them about the bow, demonstrated the "bow hold" and then helped Mrs. Polly achieve the "perfect" bow hold.

She played her songs, Old McDonald Had A Farm and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. The children sang along. She played each string and explained what note she was playing.

At the end she allowed each child to pluck a string.



And it is during moments like these, as I sit back in a corner and snap away, that I just can't believe she is only 9. Can't believe that my little girl is beginning to look and act a lot like a young woman.

Upside down, inside out and just plain discombobulated

We had our parent/teacher conference today with Andrew's preschool teacher. Mrs. Polly. I have to admit I was a little nervous. School has been easy for Sydney and so her conferences continue to be uneventful. She enjoys school and is good at it. I tend to think of her as a Cadillac on cruise control. She's happy to go, does her work, gets good grades and completes her homework without much encouragement.

Andrew goes to school willingly, most days, but prefers being home slaying imaginary dragons with his swords. And sitting him down to practice repetitive tasks such as writing is far worse than pulling teeth. I have decided that this is the marked difference between girls and boys.

Going into the conference we knew his writing had improved but was still in need of a lot of work. At the beginning of the year he would write his name backwards and upside down. But as time went on he seemed to move past that.

Friday he came home from school eager to show me his "U" book. "Look mom. Look at my U book. Didn't I do a good job writing my name?"




At first glance my immediate thought was "No. I've seen you do better." But then I took a closer look.



Then I held it up to the bathroom mirror.


And realized it was the perfect mirror image.

We discussed this with his teacher. She is not really sure why, or how for that matter, he does this but she suspects he may outgrow it.

Then she showed us his assessment test scores and some of the papers that went along with it. One of the tasks he was asked to do was to draw a picture of a boy or a girl. She wrote his name at the top of the paper and placed it in front of him.

He drew a boy AND a girl for good measure and drew them perfectly upside down.

He also had to complete a pattern.

And he did. Perfectly upside down. Notice his name? He has a pattern going alright.

We have decided he either has a very interesting gift or an undiagnosed learning disability. I tend to think he has a knack for looking at things from a different angle. :-)

You know you live in a small town when.....

You head to the voting pole at the Community Center for Lexington's consolidated election to, well, vote. And, because you don't keep up with politics, you really have no idea who is running for what. But you planned on taking careful consideration of the choices set forth on the ballet to try and make an uneducated guess based on who you know. Only to be completely baffled by the fact that there is only one individual running in just about every category! One. Uno. I became overwrought with excitement when I came across the section that had two names listed. Only to be let down by the directions telling me to "vote for no more than two of the individuals listed below". What? There are ONLY two. And the section that had four names listed had directions instructing me to "vote for no more than four of the individuals listed below". Huh? Yup, we ain't in Florida no more!

**One more thing....note the absence of pictures in this post. I, once again, made the conscious decision to remove my camera from my purse before I got out of the car assuming there would be nothing inside the Community Center worthy of a snap shot. I would now give anything to have a photo of that ballet which just affirms that my camera needs to be surgically attached to my hand**