Adjusting to Hicksville

I find it ironic that the last post I did was about hockey. Why you ask? Because they fired our coach Sunday night. AFTER a win. A win against a pretty decent team too. Now they've hired some former NHL superstar type who has never coached before for the rest of the season. This should be interesting.

My message board has just been a bundle of fun all WEEK. I don't think we've ever had this kind of traffic before. It just makes me glad we renewed our Gold (aka - no popups) status in the summer - I don't even want to think of what it would cost now to do it.

There are those who think it was wrong to fire our coach this late in the season. They go on and on about how hard he works - and how hard he tries. You know what? William Hung tried really hard too - but he still couldn't sing. If you ain't got the talent, you ain't got the talent, capesh?

The house is coming along - the hubs has painted all the tan walls with two coats, and this weekend we intend to get the color walls done. Then we wait a few days - paint the paneling and the ceilings. Then we get to start cleaning - woohoo!

E is having a harder time adjusting to Hicksville than I had hoped. While he's not getting bullied like he was in the big city, now - he's just kinda ignored. I don't know what to do - or what to tell him. I remember very well what it was like coming into a new school. It's not easy making friends. Sure - at first everyone is nice to you because you're new - but after awhile - if you don't find something in common with them - then they go back to their lives and forget you're there. And for a kid that really seems to *need* buddies - it's so hard for him.

I wonder if it might have been easier if he had stayed in basketball instead of opting for off-season training after football season was over? Now they're about to start track season, and he's going to be involved in that. Maybe that will help?

Of course, it doesn't help that he was struck by the acne curse - from both sides of the family. Both his dad and myself have such oily skin - and he does too. Poor kid - he started getting breakouts when he was 10. Now he's 13 and it's just a never-ending battle just to get him to wash his face twice a day and treat the bigger zits and scrub hard enough to get the blackheads....

Maybe I worry too much? Auuuuugggghhhhh!!!! WHY don't we get a teenager manual? Seriously - what do *I* know about raising a BOY? I was supposed to have DAUGHTERS!!!! Girls that I could teach how to apply makeup so they didn't look like mini-hos, and insist that they start wearing a well fitted bra early so they never had to worry about boob saggage at an early age. GIRLS!!!! By the time my little brother was this age, I was in the midst of teenage rebellion and totally ignored him - I have no idea what to do for E. How to help him make this transition - how to teach him NOT to piss everyone off. Because my son - he doesn't have that filter that keeps us from saying thoughtless stuff. Nope - he's brutally honest with others because he just doesn't filter.

He also tries to be funny. Sometimes he is - the kid is bright and witty and sometimes says things that literally have me laughing my rear area off. And he revels in that. But more often than not he tries to be funny - and unintentionally hurts someone's feelings instead. How do you teach them the difference? Or is it something that is just ingrained in someone? I have no idea. But it breaks my heart to see him hurt.

For the Love of Hockey

I may have mentioned once or twice before that I'm a bit of a hockey fan.

"A bit" would be putting it mildly. I'm a hockey fanatic. Truly.

In September, I start the ice watch. Where we wait for them to put the ice in at the coliseum. And once we (that would be me and my fellow fanatic, Jules) know that it's in - we go to smell the ice.

Smell. The. Ice.

Because we're freaks that way.

Oh - we don't get down to ice level and sniff it - it's just mainly walking into the building. There is a certain smell to a hockey rink. (No - not the locker room - that's a completely different stench) We go up to our seats and check out the ice - see how the logos look - if the red line is straight, stuff like that.

And then we wait patiently for training camp.

Ok - no I don't. I complain everyday unless there is a signing announced. I hope against hope that this year we'll finally have a team that will not only make the playoffs - but GO somewhere - maybe even the finals. Maybe even win the Cup. So I spend too much time on The King's Court, and wait for training camp.

Which I go to, by the way. For the entire first week. And take notes. Yes I do. Then I write up reports on the message board. I actually make a point to save up my vacation time so that I can take off for two hours a day for a week to attend a minor league hockey team training camp.

I told you. I'm a freak. I admit it. I'm not ashamed.

And I'm right there when the season starts. I'm in the booster club. I was even president for a couple of years. I go to all the games, and enjoy the thrill of the game, and the sound of skates on ice - a sound like no other. And as we start off the season with hopes of the playoffs - I'm excited and thrilled and wear my goofy crown and my hockey bracelet and one of my many jerseys (I'm from Texas y'all - we call 'em jerseys because a sweater is something you wear skiing.) and put on my hockey necklace and I'm so optimistic! And I just know THIS. WILL. BE. THE. YEAR!!!!

Then - the last few years, anyway- reality sits in. And we start losing. But I still go. Even though I'm pretty sure our coach just doesn't have what it takes to put together and coach a playoff team. Even though our team doesn't have what it takes to win a cup. I still go. Even when sneezing eleventy billion times an hour - I still go.

(Of course, Jules hates it when I do go then - because she sits next to me and has to spend the entire evening spraying me with Lysol. But I digress.)

Because when it comes down to it - I love hockey. And even when I detest the low down dirty sneaks that own this team, and the coach that is in over his head and too clueless to realize it....I still go. For the game. For the thrill of a goal. For the fun of seeing grown men duke it out then sit in the penalty box like chastened boys in time out.

Because I love hockey.

And that's all there is to it.