Enter the Ice Hockey Mom

So this past weekend was my official coming out as an ice hockey mom. And I failed….badly.
My sleep-deprived brain needed coffee, so I went to Dunkin where I parked myself with my breakfast. And here I thought, “Kiddo’s on time and on the ice. I’m good.” NOT!
By the time I went back to the ice to cheer from the sidelines (more like raise my coffee as a salute), the kid was dehydrated after two water breaks. He was SO upset with me and I was SO upset with myself for failing my kid on the first day.
I was relieved though. After he drank some of his Gatorade, he smiled and went back to practice. Seems like I’m forgiven….until my next screw-up!

Signed,

Ice Hockey Rookie

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Happy 10th in Heaven Mami

If you’ve visited me within the last two weeks (thanks btw), you’ve probably seen that I’ve fallen off the writing bandwagon. I’ve not been so busy that I couldn’t write. I’ve chosen not to.

Mami in her heyday.

See this picture – she’s the reason why I’ve been offline. It’s been ten years since I’ve not hugged her or heard her voice. Some days the memories are so clear that it’s like she’s sitting next to me. And other days – it’s so hard to remember how she did the things she did.

I look at my son and see how much he’s grown. It is in looking at him that I’m reminded of the passage of ten years. He was just a year and a half when she died. And she loved him SO much! I just wanted to share that Mami was the strongest woman I’ve ever met and there will NEVER be another mom like her. My mom, my role model, my pain in the ass. I love you Mami. Until we meet again.

Frances Reyes (1942 – 2002)

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A Big Boy’s Room

 I’m the mom of an 11-year-old, about-to-start-6th-grader who was ready to break out of the little kid’s room. So, this past weekend, kiddo got his “big kid” room.

Kiddo’s original room had a captain’s bed and a small drawer chest lovingly provided by my father (he’s too good to me). It also had his toddler table and four chairs (a gift from my sister) and a rocking chair & ottoman (also from my father).

It was bittersweet for me cleaning out his room and moving the rocking chair, ottoman and toddler table into my spare room. I didn’t think he’d outgrow that. Now I totally get it when my father tells me that he doesn’t see Heiddi the grown woman with a kid and career. He says that he sees a six-year-old gap-toothed, pig-tailed little girl.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for kiddo to grow up. But, it’s happening anyway.

Kiddo couldn’t wait until Wednesday (he’s at his father’s til them) to see his new bedroom set. My heart was racing when he walked in because I didn’t know if he’d like it (the set we picked was discontinued and I picked a new one). Squealing, kiddo raced up the ladder to lay on it and get a feel for the new mattress. And he had to test out his freethrow after all.

All I wanted to do was cry happy and sad tears. Happy tears for being able to provide him with his ‘big boy’ room and sad because my Cocohead is growing up. Onto the next mommy adventure.

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Sleep-Deprived Mommy

Sleep-deprivation – defined by WebMD as follows

1. a sufficient lack of restorative sleep over a cumulative period so as to cause physical or psychiatric symptoms and affect routine performances of tasks.

I had a sufficient lack of restorative sleep over a cumulative period of four nights in a row and caused fatigue, crankiness, fogginess and affected my work/life routine performances.  AKA – I was FRIGGIN’ tired!

With so many wonderful things my amazing mom passed on to me, sleep deprivation was one I could have done without. I thought my sleep-deprived nights were over once my son left the baby years. NOT!

Now, what keeps me up at night are thoughts. Thoughts about my son, things I need to do at work and home, my life – EVERYTHING. I also have a very bad habit of daydreaming and visualizing dreams. These are all good things to do, but not when I need to get to sleep right away. What also keeps me up is kiddo.

Kiddo’s a pre-teen with the ‘I’m a big kid’ attitude going on, but still likes to sleep in my queen-sized bed once in awhile. When he does sleep there, I don’t. Rather than keep his pre-teen rump on his side of the bed, he manages to roll over to my side. Kicking and throwing his arms out. I often wonder if he’s dreaming about beating me to a pulp.

Between the kicking and throwing, plus my own pre-sleep racing mind (bills, kiddo, work, bills, kiddo) I get little to no sleep. Add to that a stressful, draining dayjob and it’s a recipe for a bitchy, tired mom.

I’d like to invent a contraption to keep a child stuck in place all night long and maybe throw sand from Mr. Sandman on the child’s head to knock them the hell out. But, then thinking that up will probably keep me up at night, too! Dammit!

Guess I’ll have to change up my routine to make myself a priority. Because a well-rested mommy is a HAPPY mommy.

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Thanks for the laughs Sherman – A Tribute

“Well, I’m moving on up! To the East side!” Some of my first memories of family night with my mom came from watching Sherman Helmsley as George Jefferson in The Jeffersons. I don’t know what made us laugh harder – his trademark dancing, yelling at Weezy or his verbal sparring with Florence.

I was instantly brought back to those nights with my mom when I heard the sad news of Helmsley’s passing. As George, Sherman was hilarious, arrogant and self-centered. But he was also the character you loved to hate and still loved anyway.

I remember Helmsley’s amazing work in the racism episode where George gave cpr to a man who was a racist (ie super negative) towards him. George saved the man’s life. And Sherman Helmsley was endeared to me forever.

After the Jeffersons, I saw Helmsley in Amen (loved him there, too) and in various other spots. But, my love for Helmsley started on The Jeffersons. Thanks Sherman for all of the laughs.
RIP Sherman Helmsley (1938 – 2012)

And the man and his dance. Enjoy!

The Real George Jefferson Dance