What a weekend. I've finally absorbed the germs from my kids and have a stuffed head, plugged ears, sore throat, aching neck and dripping nose. As disgusting as I feel, I guess I'm thankful this will be gone by next weekend when we have plans to do fun things.
Mr. T learned how to ski on Saturday. I'm so impressed by him. He went with a buddy to a ski hill, the same one I went to decades ago in my youth. Unlike his mama, however, Mr. T managed to make it down the slopes only wiping out TWICE. In stark contrast to Mr. T, I never made it down a slope without wiping out. I tried, several times, but skiing was not my sport. I could never understand this particular failure because I have terrific balance--I can hold a one-legged yoga pose forever and a day. I can water ski, ice skate, roller blade and pop off multiple kicks while balanced on one leg. But something about gliding downhill on two feet throws off my equilibrium I guess. Anyway, I'm glad the kid had fun and wants to do it again.
Mr. G had his second wrestling meet. He took 2nd place, winning 4 of 5 matches. The match he lost was his first of the day and he lost it 8-7. Mr. D thinks if he knew a bit more about the sport he'd have won, but I'm glad he lost. I got to see how he handled it--and he handled it well. He shook everyone's hand before leaving the mat and didn't shed a single tear. And he went in the next match without trepidation. Losing builds character and I fear if things come too easily for my youngest, he'll turn into a real knucklehead.
We also did Valentines for school last night. I know I've mentioned before how my kids are so different than I was at this age (I know, because they're boys, duh). I remember sitting at the kitchen table with a box of Valentine cards and selecting carefully a card for each classmate. They had to be just right, you know? A card with a picture of a dog holding a bone that said "I dig you, Valentine" had to go to a boy because otherwise you'd run out and end up giving a boy a card with a kitten which would be all kinds of wrong.
Not Team Testosterone. Against their free will and muttering under their breaths about "worst holiday ever" and "I can't wait until I'm Mr. T's age and never have to endure this strange and horrible torture again" they scrawled their classmate's names on cards. Grab-scrawl-sign. Grab-scrawl-sign. No care. No thought. Valentine's Day is a duty undertaken because of social rules. Oh, boys. Gotta love them. I told them if they're lucky like their dad, they'll marry someone like me who doesn't care about Valentine's Day and has no expectations about celebrating it.
Then we watched some TV. Every time a commercial came on for Jared or Kay's or Diamonds R Us, I pointed out that only a moron who has no imagination gets his wife some mass-produced piece of ugly jewelry. Someday there will be a girl out there who will thank me for teaching my son so well...
Spill it, reader. What's your favorite Valentine's Day candy? Mine's chocolate, though I get nostalgic when I bite into a conversation heart.
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