This is partially about pizza

Thursday, June 20, 2013

I was sitting at my desk this morning, minding my business and gettin' work done like a boss, when I suddenly remembered that we have leftover pizza at home in the fridge.

It was like,


Does that ever happen to you? In the past, this same exactly thing would happen to me when I was at school and suddenly remembered that Clayton was coming to visit that weekend.

But now I see Clayton every day, so now I get excited about pizza. Like, inappropriately, questionably excited. Like, if I was a dog, my tail would wag at the mere mention of pizza.

An Instagram photo essay of pizzas past ...



Okay, yeah, I'm ready for lunch.

How's your day going so far? Mine is going pretty good! I had a few seconds of downtime before I move on to the next project and thought I'd de-clutter my brain by slappin' a post up on the ol' blog.

Last night was our last game for the 8 and Under softball season and while I'm sad to be ending my time with the girls, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief to be rid of their parents. Not to talk smack or anything, but a few parents simply ruined this experience for Maria and I. I had such incredibly high hopes of working with the girls and passing on some of my knowledge from having spent many years with the sport, but the parents were so dang critical, we spent the whole season walking on eggshells. They whispered (loudly) inappropriate comments about us, nitpicked everything about our coaching style, and complained to the director of the league.

For a few weeks (and I didn't share this on the blog) I had intense anxiety before every game because I knew that no matter what I did, it was going to be wrong. The girls were responding really, really well to us, but that still wasn't good enough for a few of these parents. They wanted our heads on platters. And I just couldn't (and still can't) figure out why. The girls improved so much over the season (and those were other parents' words, not ours). The parents who had a problem were the ones who thought their daughters were superstars and if we did anything less than cater to their immense potential, we were jerks.

Well, I'm sorry, everyone needs a turn on the bench and everyone needs a turn in the outfield. 

We weren't perfect, not by any means, but we tried. And the girls had fun. Isn't that all that matters?

The only thing that made me feel better about the experience is that the director of the league sympathized with us and shared that we were not alone in this ordeal. There had been similar problems in almost every team in every age group and from some of the stories I heard, we had it easy.

I obviously don't have children (and Joey doesn't play softball), so I can't really put myself in the parents' shoes. But for real, parents (again, not ALL of the parents; a lot of them were really awesome), put yourself in OUR shoes. We're wrangling a dozen 8-year old girls who want to chat about butterflies, ask dozens of questions at once, and play in the dirt while simultaneously trying to offer them encouragement and guidance during the game. Cut us some slack, PLEASE.

But it was all worth it for me when several of the girls hugged us goodbye and their parents came over to thank us (of course the parents who hate us lingered on the perimeter and didn't even bother to look in our direction). If anything, this season proved to me that I'm actually good with kids and as stressful as it was trying to pay attention to them all equally and at once, they were really fun.

So, in honor of the proverbial weight being lifted off my shoulders, I went home, ran 4 miles in the glorious summer evening air, ate pizza, and watched Anchorman for the one millionth time. 

And today I have pizza leftovers.

Happy Thursday!

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3 comments

  1. There's this place not far from me that I love...they have the most amazing thin crust margherita pizza! BF and I would order it all the time when he lived here, he would get the meaty half and I would have my girly half :-) I also love making homemade pizza! Have not done that in a while.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Those pizzas look delicious! And crazy parents... yikes! :(

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