Volleyball All Day, Every Day

My eldest daughter loves volleyball. And volleyball loves her. This year she is captain of her JV team and stays on the court for the entire game in every match, rotating through both rows. The season is entering its last month, and the varsity coach asked Hayley to swing up and start practicing with varsity (in addition to JV). The coach wants her to start learning the varsity plays and travel with the team to Regionals and State.

Photo courtesy of Duane Hickok

This sounds great, until you realize that my daughter is now practicing THREE HOURS a day. In the next few weeks she will be traveling every weekend all over the state, either with her own team or with the varsity team, to compete in tournaments. This is crazy. Crazy fun, but still. CRAZY.



Dinner last night: tamale pie (hey! I finally cooked something!)

Exactly one year ago:

My Kryptonite

Exactly two years ago:

Oh, Blog, How I've Missed You

Exactly three years ago:

Let Them Eat Cake

Exactly four years ago:

Sunset Through the Trees

Camping Once a Year is Still Camping

We had such fun last year when we rented an RV over Memorial Day weekend that we decided to make it an annual family tradition. Between my husband's work schedule and the kids' various activities, however, it was well after Labor Day before we were able to head to the river. At least we scored an off-season rate for the RV.

We had a blast just sitting around the fire, sometimes hiking around, and pretending we were outdoorsmen. The wildflowers had long faded away, but the autumn foliage was pretty.

My secret hope is that years down the road, the kids won't realize that we only took them overnight camping once a summer—they'll just remember we went camping.



Dinner last night: brown bag lunch (parent/teacher conferences well into the evening)

Exactly one year ago:

October Sunset

Exactly five years ago:

Don't Eat Yellow Snow

This One's For You, Barb

I am not dead. Yet. I sometimes wonder, though, if my students are conspiring to send me to an early grave.

I accepted a position with a local middle school to teach language arts. I naively believed that, hey, I taught at-risk high schoolers in Southern California for years. I'm talking literal gangsters, for crying out loud. Yo! West Side Rivas . . . how bad could a bunch of tiny, innocent sixth graders be? Pretty bad. They are full of energy, sass, and lame jokes. Did I mention energy?

Okay, this picture doesn't make my point. This is my first class of the morning, and they're still a little sleepy. Trust me when I say that by 6th period, the children? They have awakened. Just when I'm ready for my afternoon nap.

I'm too old for this, is what I'm saying. I NEED MY NAP.



Dinner last night: fast food, because I don't make have time to cook any more

Exactly four years ago:

We Park on Driveways . . . And Drive on Parkways

Exactly five years ago:

Say "Cheese!"