The DQ, part 2

One of the things I have learned about DQ’s in the past year is…deal with it.

If it is deserved, learn from it.  Fix the mistakes.  Get over it.  It happens.  Move on.

If it isn’t?  Get over it.  It happens.  Move on.

For the love of swimming, please do not protest it – even if you do have it on video on your beloved iphone (Apple needs to pay for some of my kids swimming don’t you think?).

Unless this is the Olympics, or the Olympic time trials it isn’t worth protesting.  I think about Grace’s “wrongful DQ” on 25 back two years ago.  She never swam another 25 again.  She aged up shortly thereafter and went to all 50’s in the summer and hadn’t swam a 25 with her club since she was 8.  NO ONE will ever care that at the age of 10, Grace was charged with a false start in a 25 back in some outdoor pool in Maryland.  No one EVER will care.  If they do, find new friends.

I am going to give the stroke and turn gods the benefit of the doubt.  Grace has been swimming over 6 years now and we have had one crappy call.  One.

I would like to know how many they missed?  I say we call it even.  I am probably being generous to the swimmer.  Those wrong calls are like a get out of jail free pass.

Avenging the DQ

The dreaded DQ.  A few years ago we decided that DQ’s should be a celebratory event, worthy of a trip to Dairy Queen.

As we all know, everyone has been disqualified at a meet at one time or another.  Grace was once DQ’d in an IM by…her own father.  A friend of hers came up laughing, haha you got DQ’d by your dad.  Grace said “yeah watch out he is ruthless, you might be next”.  They are a learning experience.  Mistakes are easy to fix, especially once acknowledged (or shoved down your throat as the case sometimes may be!).

Not only has everyone been disqualified but EVERY SINGLE swimmer I know has been disqualified unfairly (according to them).

Sophie is still pissed about the time she got disqualified for a one hand touch in breaststroke (they “missed” the second hand which somehow was “covered” by the first hand).

Sarah got disqualified two summers ago for who knows what and she is still mad about it.

There is always the one you never forget and think you will never get over.  Grace got disqualified two summers ago at All-Stars for a false start in back stroke.  She would have been 4th in our summer swim league.  We did what every good stupid swim parents should do.  We came home and consulted the stroke and turn manual.  Remember dad is a stroke and turn judge and he knows everything and he said she shouldn’t be disqualified.  AND there is was, page 52, paragraph 4A – if blah blah blah, then blah blah blah.  The IF happened but the then (reset) did not and as a result she was disqualified for a false start.

We toyed with the idea of complaining.  Sure, it was right there on the iphone video for the whole world to watch but then we would be known as the assholes who complained.  We decided to declare her the 4th place winner anyways.  And decided that the best course of revenge was to wait two years to show them who really was the backstroke queen.

Two years have passed and this is the summer to rightfully declare herself the backstroke queen of Montgomery Count.  As luck and hard work would have it, she no longer cares.  Goals are much higher now and that DQ two years ago is a distant memory.

The reality is, as swimmers, our kids are making constant progress.  A DQ is nothing more than a temporary and small setback.  The bigger and better things are yet to come.  I promise.


Don’t mind me (last person in America to read 50 Shades of Grey)

Seriously, don’t mind me.  I mean don’t bother me.  I am in the corner all by myself for a reason.

I want to fit in.  I want to be like ALL of my facebook friends.  I want to stay up all night reading, walking around like a Zombie.  Forget about dinner kids, eat leftovers, mom is busy.  House?  Maybe it can clean itself.

I really suck at being anti-social.  I was at the pool for four hours the other day and got to page 6.  I really wanted to read it – start to finish.  But I couldn’t stop gabbing.  Of course everyone I was shooting the breeze with told me it was the best book EVER.  They are all on number three.  Me, page 6.

I have a long swim meet this weekend and no one to hang out with.  Maybe this weekend it will happen.  Although I am not sure this is the best book to read in a hot, steamy room.  Full of people who annoy me.   Knowing me I will be on page 9 by Sunday.

Fifty Shades of Grey: Book One of the Fifty Shades Trilogy

If changing out of a practice suit were an Olympic Event

Grace would be a gold medal winner.  In the summer the minute practice is over, that thing is off and the bikini on.  Like faster than she can do a 50 fly.  Crazy fast.  She says it is the tan lines.  I also think she likes to make the distinction between work and play.

I am grateful my kids like the pool beyond swim practice.  We are known for pulling “all-dayers”. Being there from the time the pool opens until the time it closes.  My kids get exercise, it is cheap and my house stays spotless.  Can’t beat that.

I just ordered the girls new practice suits and “fun suits”.  What confuses me is that my 12-year-old still loves the Dolfin Uglies which really live up to their name.  I find them to be quite unattractive.  They do hold up forever but wow, someone got rich creating a mismatched suit out of childlike prints that tweeners love.  (and why wasn’t that someone me?)  I also ordered her a two piece from Hollister.  I am not sure whose body those were designed for but I would be a XXL.  If they made my size.  I guess she is a little bit grown up and still a child at heart.

Summer swim team starts today.  A summer filled with fun and friends.  And fast wardrobe changes.  See ya at the pool.

My little secret

I can’t swim.  At all.

The really interesting part…I love the water.  Well, the ocean that is.  I just spent a few days in Florida with a friend who is a swim coach.  She has seen my attempts to swim.  Ok, that is a lie, I don’t attempt to swim.  She has seen me sit in chairs around the pool, sit on the pool edge or walk in to mid-thigh and slash water on my shoulders.  From time to time I will do a cannon ball off the dive and doggy paddle to the side.  I like to entertain.  For the most part I am knows as “the hater of water”.

She was shocked to learn that I love the ocean.  I can spend hours in or on the water.  The ocean is peace to me.

I feel guilty that I can’t swim a proper stroke and that I have no idea how to swim a single lap.  I feel that if I were to learn this is something we could share as a family.

In all honesty I have no interest in learning how to swim.  I am not going to drown if I fall off a boat.  That is good enough for me.  Oddly enough, I love to go to the pool and literally count down the number of days until it opens.  Did I mention it opens Saturday?  Probably a little late to start my summer diet.  I hope no one else started theirs last month…Happy days of summer here we come!

It is all in the details

I have a motto.  “Worry about today – today”.  And I live by it.  I literally wake up every day – look at what is going on for the day – and plot my attack accordingly.  I don’t even keep a calendar I just look on the school, swim team and soccer team websites and figure out what is going on.  I rarely rely on carpools and for the most part get my kids where they need to be.  Early.  (Have I mentioned I am OCD about being early).

This summer was starting to feel a little tricky so I splurged at Target and bought a calendar.  I know that I could easily track events on my iphone but I really felt the need to see the entire summer at a glance.  I also bought my very own pencils that the kids can’t use.  I was so proud.

I spent an afternoon on websites and reading saved emails to jot everything down.  I felt so organized.  Almost like a grown up.

Today I left it lying on my kitchen calendar next to a cup of coffee and this is what happened:

I have to say I am pretty glad I didn’t put all my appointments into my iphone.  I think flying by the seat of my pants was easier.

Yes, that was bad. High five.

Sophie had a welcome to summer mini meet yesterday – our first outdoor meet of the season.  We had a really quiet weekend and the weather was absolutely perfect, 82 degrees.  I gathered the entire family and we all went together to the meet.  Well, after we woke Sophie up.

She had a girls scout sleepover the night before at a campground.  This is not something I would normally sign up for the night before a meet but the sleepover was originally scheduled for the weekend before.  When the sleepover changed weekends I debated cancelling the plans for either the meet or the sleepover.  And then I didn’t.  She is 8.  How bad could it be?

She walked in the door from the sleepover and burst into tears.  So did I.  She smelled like she slept in the campfire.  She was exhausted.  After a nice hot bath I got her into my bed and got her to take a nap.  When it was time to leave she was still asleep.  We finally woke her up and got her to the meet.

She warmed up and seemed ok.  Then she swam her first race.  She looked like a cat that had been thrown in the water.  Two races later, nothing had improved.  After she finished fly, she came running to me in tears.  “I swam horrible”.  No denying that.  We talked about what she did wrong, hugged, high-fived bought a ginormous pixie stick and went home.  My 8-year-old swam terrible.  So what?

We should have had the pixie stick first.  And a Red Bull.

The upside of the meet?  Grace later posted on facebook that “swim meets are boring unless you are swimming in them” AND she thanked me for all the meets I sit through.  WIN!

Thirty minutes before warm-ups!

Checking it twice

I just looked at our calendar for Saturday sports.

NO thing.
Not a thing.

Thank goodness we have a mini meet for Super Fly Sophie on Sunday.  I haven’t been to a swim meet in FOR-freaking-EVER.  Chris went to the long course meet, I was working the tan in Palm Beach.  Seriously, it has been months since I went to a swim meet.

And I miss them.  This from the girl who used to beg her husband not to make her go.

In July we will make up for lost time.  We have 16 days of meets.  I am sure that you are shocked that I have July mapped out already but they had the cutest calendar at Target and I had to buy it.

The trophy wife

I am 42. And 3/4. In other words, almost 43. Old. Not a trophy wife. My husband is actually younger. By almost a year.

But I am the wife that collects the trophies.

I think trophies are stupid. Rec soccer? Trophy. Three kids in it? Three identical trophies. None are actually earned for doing something magnificent, they are just given out – quite freely. I am a bitch. I think all of these trophies are stupid. And my kids know it.

Am I a bad mom? I have already claimed the worst mother in America title, I am totally fine with it. But I think trophies, ribbons and plaques are just down right stupid. Unless they are earned. For instance, soccer tournament won. Trophy earned. Lose every game in the tournament? You lost. Save the trophy for the winners.

We changed swim teams last year. The owner of the old team called my husband Steve. Not his name. He spelled our last name incorrectly. Half the time. And for some of my kids. At the very least, the girls, my husband and I are all related. And as such, all five of us spell our last name the same.

My girls are clearly as jaded and cynical as I am. At the end of the year banquet last year, Grace got her trophies and came and sat next to me and said “for mother’s day I think we should buy you an engraver”. Elliott, a quite simple last name, was spelled with one T. For all three.

We thought about spelling our name: Elliotttwotees. It has a nice ring to it.

If, and I do mean IF, you are going to hand out trophies, spell the kids freaking name right. If there is any doubt, refer to the $4K in checks we have written you in the past year. Our name happens to be spelled correctly on every freaking one of them.

I guess I am not really bitching about the stupid trophies that are handed out like candy but rather the inability for anyone to get our freaking names right. College educated people who collect money from us on a regular basis screw it up. Think I am kidding? Take a look at these two photos. Not only are my kids names totally screwed up but the crazy assed names of their peers? Totally right. If you see me at an awards ceremony with a bad attitude, trust me, I earned it.

Career advice from an orthopedic specialist?

Dr. – How did you get injured?
Sarah – Do you want details or in general.
Dr. – In general.
Sarah – playing soccer.

Dr. – Scale of 1-10 how bad does it hurt.
Sarah – 9.  Well, can you give me an example of 10 pain?
Dr. – 10 is an alligator eating your leg off.
Sarah – Yeah a 9.

Dr. -Does it feel tender here?
Sarah – What do you mean by tender?  LIke a sunburn tender or like food tender?

Dr. – We have a really cute brace for you.
Sarah – What is a cute brace?  I don’t want one that is pink.

Dr. – No physical activity for two weeks
Sarah – Do you mean shoving people physical or do you mean athletic physical?

Dr. – Do you have any questions?
Sarah – Why did the form ask me if I was pregnant?  I am 10.

Dr. – We would like you to come back in two weeks.
Sarah – Can we come during school, I would prefer to miss that more than swimming.

Dr. – Sarah, will you promise me you will go to law school?
Sarah – Why, do you think I would make a bad Marine Biologist?

Did I mention we have good insurance?