A few weeks ago—before our deep freeze– we had the PERFECT Illinois winter snowy day. That day I cross country skied and shot the pictures I posted on this blog a couple weeks ago. My 16 year old son Ronan and his friends sledded all that afternoon. I was secretly smiling that the boys adventures . Are you ever too old to sled?
“There were a lot of kids there. I feel like the parents were looking at all of us weird, since we were older,” Ronan said when he got home, after he said how much fun they had. And how tired they were.
“No way,” I replied. “I remember when we used to take all of you sledding when you were younger.
“ I would watch all the older kids on the hills, playing, having fun. I was so glad that they were having a blast outside, rather than watching TV or playing video games. That they still let themselves be kids.”
So, one simple idea for me this year is to find time to have more fun. Step away from the screens and daily responsibilities, just to let loose and laugh.
The leaves crackle under our bike tires, burying the path underneath the trees. There is a sense of golden aura, with splatters of rust and green throughout, as we wind along the trail flanking the river. The geese chatter, the slight scent of decay emanates throughout.
As we ride past the mirrored lake, the swing set adjacent, I am transported immediately to my past. I remember coming to these same Captain Daniel Wright Woods often as a child. We would spend the day with our neighbors, the boys and dads fishing, the girls running, laughing, chasing dragon flies, moms relaxing with a smile.
Afterwards all we kids played together with new friends, made up games on the jungle gym. The picnic was unpacked onto long wooden tables, my mom offering up delicious pans of fried chicken still warm in foil, bowls of cut fruit, homemade chocolate cookies, the rare treat of a can of soda.
When I was in high school, my dad taught me to cross country ski on these snow filled paths. The woods turned magic, covered with sparkling snow, as we careened through the forest.
As we continued on our current bike ride , those memories morphed into later visits, when we brought my kids, their cousins, and our dogs to enjoy that same playground. We clomped over the bridge to a hidden pond for the kids to catch frogs, skip stones, and throw bread bits as the fish broke the surface again and again.
I hope that someday my kids will come visit here, and they will remember all the times we came to the forest preserve with poignant smiles. And better yet, I hope that they can create their own memories here with their friends or family.
Sunday, during the daylight hours, has that “weekend” feel. We enjoy some free time, pursue hobbies, run errands, start or complete projects, or just chill. But by dinnertime, it whispers in our conscious that the Week is starting soon.
Sunday, after our evening meal, that voice is hammering in my head: time to start the Monday-morning-prep. Mentally and physically, it can tarnish the end of a stellar weekend. During the school year and with fewer daylight hours, time seems to compress further. And it is the whole family who feels the end of the weekend, not just me.
The minutia starts to over power my restless mind—the upcoming week’s work and family schedule overlaps. I set priorities now so we can start Monday by doing, not necessarily thinking. We are not all morning people, especially on Mondays!
I keep trying to think of ways to extend the weekend feelings until Monday morning. But, I think it would exhaust me out more to wake up Monday and not be ready to jump into the week.
I wondered, do similar feelings reverberate through our neighbors homes? Asking a couple friends, they confirmed that similar routines and emotions run through their households. After writing most this piece, I found a 2015 Monster.com poll that showed a whopping 78% of American workers have these “Sunday Night Blues”. Wow, I had no idea!
How can we extend that weekend feeling a little longer? Most weekends we try to have a family dinner on Sunday night, which brings us together to relax, catch up, and plan for the week. We recently took a spontaneous drive to the beautiful Lake Geneva WI to wander and eat alongside the lake, which was a great change of pace. Maybe we should tweak our Sunday schedules, allow for a little more flexibility and surprise. Keep the weekend feeling alive just a few hours longer, leaving us just a smidge of time to gear up for Monday’s alarm clock ring.
If you have found successful tactics for easing into Monday morning, let me know!
I am no longer a Soccer Mom. It is truly the end of a parenting era for me. It has been such a huge part of our family life, with 3 kids involved in house league, club, and school soccer for 18+ years. I calculated they have played in over 950 soccer games, with 1000s more practices, trips to the ER, games in literally every type of weather, packing coolers and filling water bottles, show tying, attending soccer parties and award nights, taking a myriad of pictures, even coaching when they were younger.
There was a viral post last year lamenting competitive sports. While I agree that some parents and players have unrealistic expectations, it was never our goal that our children would continue sports in college unless they chose that route. They played soccer because they loved the game—and they got so, so much more from playing soccer than simply the game.
My children have learned discipline, the importance of teamwork, how practice improves your skills, why eating healthy and staying hydrated is important, how to play with teammates and coaches they do not agree with or even like, that you don’t always win when expected, the unexpected victory, how sidelining injuries are frustrating, how to speak up for themselves.
We have formed close bonds with other families, whether for a season or for years. We have travelled for many tournaments including Phoenix AZ, Cincinnati, OH, Madison WI, Kansas City, MO. In each city we have tried to explore–enjoying hiking, a variety restaurants, shopping, and experiences from the St. Louis Arch to college visits.
The end of our family soccer era ended with suddenly, with an elbow to the nose and a 35-yard header that caused a horrible concussion. Not the way I expected us to end our soccer involvement, with trips to the ER, neurologist, physical therapy, and wondering whether Devon would even get to walk at graduation. Thankfully, she is on the mend but soccer days are over.
I doubt our kids can yet appreciate how much soccer positively impacted our family. It allowed us to spend many hours together, watching them grow, learning about themselves and other families’ dynamics, politics in organized sports.
In hindsight, I am so grateful for almost every game I watched—even the bitter cold and snow games brings laughter and memories now. So whatever sport or activity your child embraces, join their journey. Watch them grow. And know this time will end. Quicker than you expect.
I loved college. My daughter Tara is now a junior at my alma mater, University of Dayton; my other daughter Devon is going to attend UD in the fall. I feel lucky to often visit this school that offered me so many opportunities, helped shape my adult life, and introduced me to some still-amazing friends.
UD has expanded, is way classier looking, has more fields of study, new restaurants to enjoy, but the heart of the school is the same . The upperclassmen housing area, the UD Ghetto*, is overflowing with students on porches and yards enjoying the first gorgeous summer-like weekend this year. The university still seems the happiest place on Earth. Sorry, Disney.
When I was a student, I never once had a thought that one –let alone two–of my kids could be living and studying here, drinking at the same bars, hanging out in the same houses did. Kinda crazy, in retrospect. Every time I am on campus, I remember so much of my time as a UD Flyer. But as I walk through the Ghetto today, I feel like a …. mom.
It is this generation’s turn to experience college, make friends, find love, join new clubs, travel to new cities or countries, stay up too late, change loves and friends, sleep until noon then study until 2 am.
They will stress about class projects and exams, life after college, money, health, jobs, fitting in, discovering who they are, and suddenly–what they thought they wanted to study, they don’t. That’s OK. Hopefully your advisors can help you change majors or classes. The emotional turmoil is part of the college experience. Know that these are some of the first adult decisions that you will make—and even after you leave school, many of you will change careers, change friends, move to new cities, have kids.
So, as I walk through the Ghetto with my daughter and a few other moms, I look with envy at these joyous, welcoming, sassy, smart, silly students and hope that you find your way. Experience all you can during these years—you won’t regret it.
This weekend I will enjoy real conversation with Tara, the school sponsored 70’s themed block party, a few Ghetto gatherings, the infamous Timothy’s, running through the campus, the book store, then head home back to my daily life.
Until next time, when I will enjoy this campus again. Feeling like a … proud mom and UD alumni.
*term is UD politically incorrect, but student –and-alumni- correct. I know the school wants to eliminate that name but it’s been there since the 1960’s. Sorry admin.
Of the many people you meet in life, some are with you for a moment, a day, a week, a year, a lifetime. Some barely touch your boundaries, others learn your heart, guess your secrets, know your emotions even when they are hiding. And there are many in-between layers, which will fluctuate over time.
Hold onto those girlfriends—you learn who they are as your foundation grows and life circumstances change—with all you can. They are the ones who
Make you laugh out loud. Most important.
Tell you when you look amazing (always, of course) and when asked, tell you not to buy that outfit.
Whether you speak daily or once a year, the conversation flows with no sense of separation.
Hand you Kleenex when you cry, hold your hair on nights you are unwell.
Know your history and dreams, your crushes, your dashed hopes.
Feel like an extension of you. Your family.
Know that sometimes silence is what you crave, a quiet touch.
Listen intently, sometimes offer opinions even when opposite yours,
but don’t force you to think their viewpoint is the only correct one.
They will be there when your romantic relationships fail—so don’t shut them out when you are flying,
Tell you unwanted truths about you, your partner, your children
If you are willing to hear them,
Reach out when you are in need, sometimes unexpectedly,
Share new hobbies, books, card games, films, or restaurants with you,
Explore your neighborhood or travel across the world with you,
stand up for you when you others gossip,
hold onto your secrets forever,
accept when you do not want to share,
let you vanish inside your world–for a little while
wish you joy.
Invest your time and truths with girls you can learn from, laugh with, cry with, yell at, eat and drink with, share with, listen to, forgive, accept. Just Be. Yourself.
On a truly lousy day, I often don’t want to bother anyone with the myriad of stresses crowding my brain. I know I have these girlfriends that I CAN call them if I want to talk; that alone can give me some peace.
Reach out to them. Help them. Thank them. Love them. Laugh with them and sometimes at them. Agree with them. Challenge them. Respect them. Nurture them.Trust them.
Know that some of those friendships will wane, some surprising ones will last decades. But hold onto those winners. You won’t regret it.
Overheard in 2 recent sophomore high school basketball games–
As an opposing team playing was being almost forced out of bounds by two of our defenders:
Male Fan—he’s being molested out there.
Female Fan, who had been yelling non-stop the entire game, retorted—and the problem with that is?
Male Fan, after long pause—It’s not a female.
My reply, out loud, to the two—REALLYYY??? Major head shake. I couldn’t respond directly to the man, since I didn’t know exactly which DAD behind me said it. THAT is the lesson you are teaching your son? Appalling.
This weekend, we were at the end of an extremely close tournament championship game vs. a local private school:
The refs made a mistake with 5 seconds left, which had the other parents in an uproar. Then with 1 second left, the opposition threw the ball in, and one player for each team ended up on the floor.
A female fan for the other team had been strident and completely one-sided the entire game. When the final buzzer rang and we won the game—as one of her son’s coaches AND teammates both got technical fouls– the MOM screamed
Congratulations on your dirty win!
What a bunch of dirty players!
And this lovely message was screamed on Martin Luther King Day, no less.
Parents, what kind of message are you sending your kids, their teammates, others in the stands with such obnoxious sentiments? What are they learning from your “coaching” on the sidelines?
I have been on plenty of sidelines where it was my childs team’s parents who were screaming at the players. In a fall outdoor soccer tournament, a group of parents was told by a ref—“Knock it off. These are CHILDREN you are talking do. If you yell again, I am going to remove this whole group of parents from the game.”
Remember that, parents. CHILDREN. I ask my kids about some of the most egregious diatribes, and oftentimes they do not even hear what the loudmouths are saying. But other times, they do hear. And they don’t forget, especially if it is directed to them. How do you think this can impact them in the long run? What if you heard someone directing such negative sentiments to your child?
We teach our kids to respect all and not to bully. So why do some parents think it is acceptable to scream non-stop from sidelines in a forceful, negative manner? Why do you think it is okay to bully and not respect the CHILDREN, coaches, and referees? Game after game?
When your child gets in trouble for yelling at a classmate, how will you respond? He or she is just mimicking your actions.
Go ahead and yell–positive, encouraging words, appreciation for actions well done. Please, please stop the ongoing negative, possibly sexual or misogynistic, inappropriate comments. They can hurt.