Random Bits of Goodness All Fried Up in One Pot

Welcome back to the Stir Fry--a heaping bowl full of all the crazy things floating around in my brain, all mixed up in my big wok for your reading consumption. Enjoy!

• Well, we survived our first soccer game with my husband as coach in our new more-competitive league. I use the term survive not very lightly as we got our soccer shorts handed to us on a plate.


• To understand what we were up against, let's take a look at the team names, shall we? To my son and husband's chagrin our team voted for the "Snow Leopards" over my son's suggested "Cobras." And, the other team? Well, they were the "Raptors." Cute fluffy little snow leopards run around the field with smiles on their faces and not a clue what they should be doing about 75 percent of the time. Raptors attack the ball in huge packs of green jerseys, leaving our snow leopards in a daze as they kicked the ball in again, and again, and again. Actually, they really should have been call "The Raptor" because they really only had one great player who actually played like he was about 5 years older than the rest of the kids. (His parents actually tried to tell my husband that he'd barely ever played before. Please...) The game was actually quite painful. My husband has his work cut out for him, to say the least.


• One positive, my son did pretty well, he didn't have any bouts of crying and didn't try and kill opposing team members. He had fun. And, that's what really matters. That, and dodging the parents' lynch mob that forms when your team sucks eggs.


• My son is obsessed with the Crocodile Hunter's death. I held off on telling him, thinking he'd hear about it at school. He did not and then was the one to tell friends at school that he died. He got the story a bit mixed up though. He told the kids a "dolphin killed him." Have I mentioned that listening skills are not his strong point?


• Monday, my son goes for an brain scan to make sure he doesn't have any sort of physical reason for his "zoning out" problems. This may sound extreme this early in the game, but it is what his pediatrician recommended so we are doing it. The next step will be a meeting with her, a questionnaire for parents and teachers to fill out, and seeing a counselor. I'm very leery of taking the questionnaire to his teachers at school. It's short and won't be a burden on them to fill it out, but I feel like that's already labeling him as having some sort of learning problem. What do you think?


• OK, move over Tom Cruise...there's a new celebrity who has let the fame go to his head. Now, Brad Pitt's now announcing that he won't marry Angelina until anyone who wants to get married can do so in our country. This is what I really hate when celebrities think that "taking a stance" or issuing such a statement means a HILL o' BEANS to the rest of the world. Yes, I admire that he has convictions and wants to see change. How about lobbying government, donating money, and actually working for gay rights? It just seems so egotistical to think that your decision to marry or not will really impact change on a touchy political and social issue like that. Get REAL! Someone needs to tell Brad the Dad that we're actually all still pissed at him for dumping adorable Jenn and taking up with Scary Spice.


• Next week should be interesting. I have things almost every evening, until Thursday when I am supposed to drive both my kids to my hometown for the annual rodeo and reunion. My ancestors will be honored with a commemorative float in the town's reunion parade and the kids are participating by riding behind it on stick horses. We're not sure if we're even going to go, because it means my son will miss school (not good right now, if you've read) and miss his soccer practice and game. Or, I may just take my daughter. Or none of us may go. Can you tell I don't know what to do here?


• The stressful thing about this reunion/rodeo is that I see a lot of my old high school friends and classmates. Sometimes good stories come out of this. Sometimes it is a complete drag. Everytime I go, I get majorly stressed out about whether I should speak to people when I see them, because I've been gone so long do they even remember me? And, then there's the whole body image thing and worrying how I look. Small town grapevines stay in business on stories of who has gotten fat, looks awful, etc., in their old age. And, if you don't live there, you are pretty much under a magnifying glass the entire weekend. Lots of fun, eh?

That's all I can think of for now, but check back later, I may throw something else in the wok. Have a great weekend!