Saturday, December 6, 2014

Oceanside Hustle

I spent about 8 hours on the lacrosse fields pictured above, a hop and a skip and a jump from the Pacific. In fact, seagulls flew maniacally over the vast expanse of green,  a confusing cover for the garbage dump underneath. Good thing there were beautiful young men and women playing lacrosse as a diversion. It occurred to me today, though, how similar lacrosse field time is to hospital time. Now don't go freaking out that I'm comparing the anguish of long hours in a hospital with long hours watching lacrosse games and waiting for lacrosse games to begin. I've done both and am perfectly aware of the difference. But Good Lord, ya'll.  I spent a full working day watching lacrosse, folding up my chair when the game was over, walking across the field and unfolding for the next one, watching that, eating some breakfast, folding up and unfolding, chit-chatting with others, visiting the Port-A-Potty, watching more lacrosse, eating lunch, reading magazines, tidying up my tote bag, eating a tangerine, and then more lacrosse. Minutes ticked by in that same way hospital clocks do, and before you know it, you've grown a mustache or a uni-brow and the sun is setting.

We're due tomorrow morning to start at 7:15.  If you feel so inclined, come set with me a while.


  1. Oh, sugar. I love you to pieces.
    Yep. This is what being a mother can be.

  2. Good Lord. That sounds like a lot of lacrosse.

  3. You sports mama you. My husband used to love this part at my son's track and field tournaments. Me? I used to love that they were occupied all day. Henry is a handsome gladiator on those fields. I've said this before I'm sure.

  4. Dearest,

    Stop talking about my unibrow.
    That was me sitting next to you at the lacrosse game. I was knitting a sock.
    (IWISHIWISHIWISH) really. We share lacrosse boys. Mine is a freshman in college and does the thing with the sticks, crouched down at the very start of the game.

    I wonder if you know Julie Jordan Scott? Her blog post made me think of you.
    Tons of love,


  5. Maybe you should should revel and rejoice in the fact that you have a child who can actively participate in sports and with whom you can share a wonderful and bonding experience -- instead of complaining about it. Just sayin'.

    1. Anonymous -- Thanks for the parenting tip. Please read the other 4,567,234 posts I've written about my boys for revelry. And have a drink yourself -- you sound uptight. Just sayin'.

  6. At first I was ready to go on a rampage about the nasty comment. But I took some breaths.

    I wonder what the back story is with Anonymous? Who hurt her? I'm assuming it's a her. What caused her to want to inflict pain on you? What makes her such a coward? And so mean? And so without compassion for the struggles of your existence? What would make her want to take the wind out of your sails? To want to take the brief carefree moments in life when you can act breezy about your son's lacrosse game away from you? Who were you hurting in your posts? Why does your joy pain her so? Why does she even read your blog if she doesn't like you? When has she not been supported, not allowed to complain about her own obviously very miserable life? I feel so sorry for her and I mean that sincerely. I'm sorry she hurts. I hope she finds peace and stops bullying people. I hope she thinks before typing something anonymously that she would never say straight to your face. Because the thing is, what you put out comes back to you. She's hurting herself. I hope she stops.

  7. Funny thing is that you do revel and rejoice. Seems to me Anonymous just doesn't get it.



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