Crass Materialism

We've got considerably more stuff today than we did yesterday.

For one, we went to buy me yet another cell phone. Remember The X-Files? We appear to have learned Cell Phone Husbandry from Mulder and Scully. We suck. Have lost two so far, and we couldn't even afford to lose one.

Anyway, it's been a couple of years since we owned one, and the kids are a little older now, so we figured, what the hell. Went to get one and, Surprise! BellWorld was giving away DVD players for every cell phone purchased. It's a crappy one, but who am I to look a gift DVD in the mouth?

Then we got Chris' inheritance from his grandmother, who passed away a few months ago. It's more money than we've ever seen in one place. Quite... bewildering.

I think I'm going to kill Justin. Or maybe just try to get him to nap. He threw a chair down the stairs at Daniel this morning, and then threw another toy at him a few minutes ago. I swear I have no idea where he gets this. The minute I turn my back on him, he's all about destruction. And even when I'm with him, I have to constantly redirect, redirect, redirect. It gets unbelievably tiring after a few hours.

Off to nap!

We're Number Three!

Final game of the soccer season today. We went into sudden death, and won :) This puts us in third place in the league. Not too shabby.

You know what I absolutely love about women's soccer? I remember gym class in high school, when we were split into boys & girls classes. We'd play soccer on one field and the boys would play football in another. I'd look at their field and see... well, a couple of teams playing against each other, each team trying to win. On our field... maybe three girls actually playing to win. The rest of us either not skilled enough to play well (that would be me) or not willing to look like they were putting in an effort. Not wanting to try and fail, or break a sweat, or be labelled dykes, or some other fate worse than death to a teenage girl.

Women's soccer? We want to win. We're not mean or overly rough, but by god if an opposing player has the ball, they better fight to hang on to it. Broken nails? Sweat? The possibility of looking like an idiot or tripping and getting hurt? Whatever.

I love soccer. I love the game, I love the constant motion, I love the teamwork, I love the high that comes from a score. And I love being old enough to enjoy all of that and not give a flying crap about being "feminine". Being a grownup rocks.