Soccer Season: A Day in the Life

As you know, I am by my own definition a happily married mother of three. I am blessed beyond my girlhood dreams. I have a full, active life but make NO MISTAKE I am HUMPING it most days like a storm trooper. We are down to ONE KID in the house.  I honestly do not know how we did it with 3 at home just a few short years ago. I am also in SOCCER SEASON…so this is a typical day.

My alarm goes off at 6 am. I hit the 10 minute snooze, lay in bed reminding myself how blessed I am ( I do my gratitude list while still in bed – because once I get up I am in POWER MOM mode). When the 6:10 am buzzer goes off, I am up. India, my sweet cat and I share the bathroom. India likes to drink water out of Mike’s sink….which Mike hates so I let her to this while I shower. I turn on the hot rollers and jump under the high water pressure. I am NOT saving any energy or water here, I am WAKING up and it requires serious water pressure. I dry off, blow dry my mane and hot roll away. I am a professional hot rolling queen. It is a modern miracle. I am not quite Farrah Fawcett, but I like my hair to have some fluff. While I am in my hot rollers, I trek down the hall to wake up Simone. When I turn on her light, she makes the sound of a small baby dinosaur….she does not actually move. I go back to the bathroom to put on my face. I can do most of this without my reading glasses – thank goodness! I dress for the day, determined mostly by what meetings I have at work or extracurricular activities I have (soccer and yoga). It is 6:30 am when I walk past Simone’s room again….she still has not moved….but she is now speaking English and promises she is awake and will be up. I turn on lights for Mike, he mentions in a LOVING tone that because of the OSHA noncompliant noise of my high watt blow dryer, he has NOT been asleep for the past 20 minutes. Not that he has been up making coffee or anything…..I go downstairs.

The morning routine is PERFECTION. I make coffee. Those of you who have had my coffee know that I am NOT MESSING AROUND. I drink STRONG FRENCH ROAST coffee. I do not want some half assed coffee. I want my coffee to mean business. I only drink 2 cups a day so it is a serious 2 cups.   I empty the dishwasher, make lunches for Simone and Mike (school lunches do not meet the healthy Massey Horner standards). I plug in the waffle iron or pancake griddle. I make my famous oatmeal whole wheat batter (a tweaked up version of Mike’s mother Pat’s recipe). I add stuff to it willy nilly….cinnamon, flaxseed, protein powder….just to keep Mike guessing about how I AM actually trying to kill him. I put out the vitamin supplements that we take – again, my ploy is to kill Mike so I make sure he takes a handful of vitamins to speed up his demise. I set the table, pour the juice and fry up some sausage (I know that full-fat sausage is not in vogue but I let Mike live a little before 8 am). Now, usually Mike strolls in to the kitchen, telling me how I need to get Simone’s act together and get her ass downstairs (like I have not been DOWNSTAIRS for the past 20 minutes doing EVERYTHING). So I go to the bottom of the stairwell, using my sweetest maternal voice and yell….GET YOUR ASS DOWNSTAIRS, Simone. It sets a fabulous tone for the morning.

We eat – not much conversation – usually some discussion of how I am attempting to ruin Pat’s perfect recipe by adding healthy stuff to it. A second favorite morning topic is pulp free vs. pulp orange juice…I cannot make everyone happy. Sometimes half and half is mentioned….my inability to purchase the right kind of half and half is legendary and does not have anything to do with the Kroger management at the Fellini Kroger wanting to mess with Mike as much as I do. I drink my coffee black so I don’t really care about this issue. Sometimes, there is a general discussion about dress code violations and cleavage. It is well known that I encourage my female teenage offspring to flaunt their breast development by wearing super inappropriate shirts. Don’t all mothers of teenage daughters do this? It is 7:20 am when Mike and Simone exit the house. I usually sit down with Ruby Jean Massey, the 17 year old tabby that understands me - which is why she gets to have my last name and not Mike’s. We watch a little TODAY show. Ruby loves Matt Lauer more than I do. I leave the house with my second cup of coffee by 7:50 am.

As HR Director with 9 different locations, I go to whichever location the day dictates. I love my job – I really do. We have about 500 employees and no 2 days are the same. Some days are quiet, but most days offer interesting situations. I often eat lunch at my desk, but I am not complaining…my co-workers are fun and after 14 years, many are close friends…so again, I am blessed. The docs I work for are wonderful. I have a lot of autonomy which is certainly helpful for my POWER MOM duties. I know I am supposed to say it is great to work where I do as the HR person…..but it IS true, I work for a great company.

One day a week, at lunch I teach a 45 minute yoga class. I drive, change into yoga attire, teach the class, and am reminded during the short savasana at the end of class (where everyone lays down for a moment), that NAPTIME should be part of EVERYONE’s mid-day routine. I change back into my ‘work attire’, go back to work and feel gratitude for my job, yoga, and that I can face any challenge the employees want to throw at me for the next few hours. However, I have not factored in what my family might need.

My family might need all kinds of stuff. My family might need an appointment with one of the orthopaedic docs….kids and sports….they might need someone (me) to pick up concession stand supplies for the night’s home game. They might need to someone (me) to swing (inconveniently) by our house to pick up a lone athletic bra (or shin pad or something, ANYTHING) that might be needed. They might need someone (me) to transfer money to someone’s bank account to avoid bank fees or overdraft charges. Any drama – call me. You name it, if you need it, I am the gal to call.

I make it to the soccer fields (we have at least 2 games a week during the regular season) usually right as the game begins. I am still in my work attire – which as I mentioned earlier, I try to plan ahead enough to be fairly comfortable….it is 6 pm and I have not been home so I have to plan for heat, cold, rain, etc. My hot rolled hair is still looking pretty fluffy….even on yoga teaching days. The game lasts over an hour and a half. They are all exciting. Depending on the location, I am either sitting on a super comfy bleacher seat, the grass, or standing for the entire match. I am psychic so I do actually know from across the field what Mike as head coach is thinking at all times J.  Thankfully, the parents don’t seem too upset with him most of the time. A future blog might be about being the coach’s wife….fun stuff!

Game over, we eat dinner out…we get home by 9 pm.

On Monday and Wednesday nights we don’t have soccer games, I teach an evening yoga class at 7pm. I get home from work about 5 pm  and make dinner,   I eat light – due to the yoga class. Mike and Simone will be home around 6:45 or 7pm and will eat what I have made. I leave to teach class before they even get home. I do yoga because it allows me to SLOW DOWN enough to do the rest of my life. I come home from yoga about 9 pm.

On either Soccer or yoga nights by  9 pm, Simone has homework so I am consulted about whether she should shower first or do homework first….she is presently in a cast with a fractured wrist so I recommend the homework first. I load the lunch Rubbermaid into the dishwasher, open the mail, scoop the cat litter, do the trash roundup and eventually change into my pajamas. Mike is reclined in his man cave (just for a moment – because he is EXHAUSTED). Mike also has to catch up on the episodes of Judge Judy or Pawn Stars. I start a load of laundry. I remind Simone to bathe. She lollygags and plans her outfit for the next day. Finally, she hits the shower while I put the clothes in the dryer. Mike mentions he needs me to help him send out a team email (I am the IT Director at our house) so I get him started. I scream at Simone to HURRY up. There may or not be profanity involved. It is 10:30pm. Simone needs her sleep. I am folding laundry when Simone is ready for me to tuck her in. I KNOW she is 15 years old and that is probably TOO OLD for tucking in, but she is my last kid. I have already experienced 2 of my children moving out and NO LONGER NEEDING me to tuck them in. I will tuck her in, even if I spend the first and last 30 to 45 minutes of everyday trying to get her to move her ass a little faster. I rub her back and say goodnight.

Mike makes his way upstairs to shower and change for bed. He asks me if I want to sit on the porch swing and have a beer (when the temps are cooler in November, he wants the beer in the hot tub), I feel like I might cry (remember when I get tired, I cry and at 10:45pm, I am officially tired), but I say YES. Why? Because I find Mike irresistible after 31 years and frankly I have not gotten a chance to REALLY look at him ALL DAY LONG. So we both grab beers, sit on the porch, talk about the day. I am reminded that he is every bit the boy I fell in love with. I am so grateful to be on the porch with this man. I am human and I am tired. I kiss him and go upstairs. I text or call Damek and Sadie, who no longer live at home. I love them. I want them to be careful. I remind them about something totally unimportant. I just want to connect to them and know they are okay.

Before my head hits the pillow, I yell to Mike, who is still up, to start the dishwasher and make sure Ruby, the cat, is in the house (at 17, she is too old for the out of doors at night and she is the only family member who likes me in the morning so I don’t want her pissed off by leaving her outside). I put in my pink earplugs and go to sleep. I have to do this again and my day starts at 6 am. I am the luckiest girl in the world.