AZ Cardinals Hire Female Coach | Here’s What I Think

Dear Kid,

Happy, happy me.

I want boys and girls to know that which restroom you use is not what defines you—it only defines what gossip you are privy to. DearKidLoveMom.comThree huge cheers for the Arizona Cardinals (who might now be my second favorite Football team) for hiring the first female coach in the NFL.

They have hired Dr. Jen Welter, whose only flaw seems to be that she went to the wrong college in Boston.

Know this: she can kick your butt—in a lot of ways. She played rugby at that unmentionable school, played pro football for 14 seasons, and was a running back for indoor football. Yes, the boys’ team.

In the article My Friend the Internet shared with me, she was quoted as saying, “I want little girls everywhere to grow up knowing they can do anything, even play football.”

As the mom of a girl who played football, that’s not what I want. I want men everywhere to know that girls can do anything, even play football. I want boys and girls to know that which restroom you use is not what defines you—it only defines what gossip you are privy to.

I also want boys and girls to know that football players don’t have to be stupid (although in high school it seems to help—you knew I couldn’t resist). This woman has a masters and a PhD. She is athletic, she is feisty, she is willing to break barriers (the social and mental kinds), and she is smart.

Being smart is cool. Being successful is cool.

Going to the Other College Down the Street is not, but at least she didn’t play ice hockey.

According to the aforementioned article, the football players are ready to get to work with her. Three cheers for them for being smart enough to recognize talent.

So to @jwelter47 from all of us who at one time or another have been the only woman in the room: Best of Everything. We’re standing there with you and can’t wait to see the great things you accomplish.

And to the leadership and players of the Cardinals @AZCardinals: Congrats on being smart. Wishing you a great season. Please don’t beat the Bengals.

Love, Mom

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The Strange Effects of Itsy Bitsy Spiders

Downspouts don't bother me, but I couldn't find a good photo of one. Spiders on the other hand, bother me a lot, so I didn't look for a photo. Which means you get no picture today. DearKidLoveMom.com

Downspouts don’t bother me, but I couldn’t find a good photo of one. Spiders on the other hand, bother me a lot, so I didn’t look for a photo. Which means you get no picture today.

Dear Kid,

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout.

Really, I don’t care what size the spider was, he was still a spider. On the plus side, he was on a water spout, which I assume was outside.

A waterspout is an intense columnar vortex (usually appearing as a funnel-shaped cloud) that occurs over a body of water. They are connected to a towering cumuliform cloud or a cumulonimbus cloud. In the common form, it is a non-supercell tornado over water.

Not that kind of waterspout, seeing as how spiders don’t usually hang out in the middle of open bodies of water.

In this case, the waterspout is actually a downspout. The water runs through the gutters, down the downspout (or waterspout if you prefer) and off to wherever water goes when it’s no longer in the downspout.

The big question is why is the spider climbing up? Why not just build a web near the ground, in a bush, or in some other easily reachable bug populated location?

More to the point, what was at the top of the waterspout that the spider found so irresistible that he waited for the sun to evaporate the water and tried climbing again? Personally, I’ve never heard of anything particularly interesting lurking near the gutters.

Which brings us to the biggest question of all: Why the heck am I thinking about this?

I have absolutely no clue.

I have got to get more sleep.

Love, Mom

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It’s Take Your Pants for a Walk Day (Yes, Really — Here’s What You Need to Know)

Dear Kid,

Take Your Pants for a Walk Day. DearKidLoveMom.comToday is – wait for it – Take Your Pants for a Walk Day.

Yep, there is a Day for taking your Pants for a Walk, and it’s July 27th.

This is (of course) ridiculous.

Because it is about a thousand degrees outside today. So people who are going for walks are (mostly) wearing shorts.

Also, this could be seen as discrimination against skirts.

But the point is, how does one actually take pants for a walk? When we take the Puppy for a walk there is a leash involved. Do you have to put a leash (or at least a belt) on your pants? Or can you assume they’ll just go with you?

Do you have to be wearing the pants? Are you supposed to take ALL of your pants at once? Or do you take them sequentially? Or is taking one pair of pants symbolically sufficient?

There are a lot of unanswered questions here.

The e-card business is all kinds of excited about celebrating Take Your Pants for a Walk Day. But I’m not sure who you’re supposed to send the cards to exactly. Maybe I have stupid pants, because none of them know how to read. And they’d have to borrow my computer to read an e-card, so that seems a little silly.

Bottom line: Take yourself for a walk, because why not? If you want to take your pants with you, have a good time. If you want to leave your pants at home, that’s fine as long as you find another way to cover all the important bits.

Happy Take Your Pants for a Walk Day.

Love, Mom

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All of a Sudden, There Was Sun | Be Careful What You Wish For

Dear Kid,

The thing about wishing for something is you sometimes get what you wish for.

Mere minutes ago, we were whining about being in the middle of monsoon season. “What happened to summer?” we wailed. “Why is there all this rain and no sun?”

Even Farmer Brown wasn’t happy. There was too much rain and his crops (like most of us) don’t like soggy toes.

We all sat around wishing for a beautiful day so we could take a walk at lunchtime without wearing hip waders and foul weather gear.

All of a sudden, there was sun. DearKidLoveMom.comThen, poof! Mother Nature had had enough of the whining. You want sun? I’ll give you SUN, and splat, it was summer. 98 degree summer. High humidity of south Ohio summer. Sun beating down with nary a cloud in sight summer.

Just in time for the summer soccer games.

The good news is the players aren’t slipping in mud puddles.

The bad news is the players are slipping in sweat puddles. (Just as attractive.)

The worse news is that the viewers are sitting in sweat puddles too.

Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

Love, Mom

 

 

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The Mosquitoes Were Really Bad Last Night (Really, Really Bad)

Dear Kid,

This is not a mosquito. DearKidLoveMom.comI look like I have the measles.

Just to be clear, I don’t have the measles, small pox, chicken pox, or even a bad case of acne.

What I have are mosquito bites.

A lot of them.

Enough of them so that I expect to see a great reduction when I step on the scale.

Enough of them so that the Hoxworth Blood Center has called to tell me I’ve exceeded my donation level for the year.

Enough so that this year’s annual vampire ball is being moved out of southern Ohio.

Enough so that there isn’t enough hydrocortisone on the planet to handle them all.

Enough so that I look like I have the measles.

I did not invite the mosquitoes over for a festive meal. I didn’t invite them for a small nosh. I didn’t even invite them for a meal-free get together.

There was no inviting whatsoever.

Mosquitoes are not big on etiquette.

Or on spelling, since you can spell the plural mosquitos or mosquitoes and no one seems to care.

They are, however, big on helping themselves to whatever is in the ‘frig (and by “’frig” I mean my veins).

Dad was not sympathetic; Dad repels mosquitoes. Dad is a virtual mosquito umbrella. He says it’s because he was wearing long pants that he wasn’t bitten, but I was bitten through my clothing. Sleeves were not a deterrent. In fact, mosquitoes seem to have an affinity for red shirts. Or at least the shoulders underneath red shirts.

Excuse me while I go slather on a gallon or two of hydrocortisone.

Love, Mom

 

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Why We Need Adult Garanimals

Dear Kid,

I needed Garanimals to get dressed yesterday.

Getting dressed used to be so much easier. Garanimals. DearKidLoveMom.comDo you know what Garanimals are (or were)? Garanimals were line of clothing with an animal on the label. The tiger pants went with any tiger shirt, giraffe shirts went with giraffe bottoms, and so on. The point was that even little kids could get dressed by themselves and end up matching. A side benefit was that dads could get even littler kids dressed in a way that moms who cared about coordinated children would approve of.

I really could have used Garanimals yesterday. Nothing I put on worked.

Was it that I hadn’t had enough coffee? Or that the elves had taken all my good clothes and replaced them with bad clothes? I don’t know. But it wasn’t pretty.

The pants I tried didn’t go with the top I tried. I added shoes hoping it would pull the outfit together. The outfit remained un-pulled. I tried a different top. Horrible.

I started looking for the animals on the labels. Nothing.

I thought about wearing a dress, but the bruise I got from the spin bike made that seem like a bad idea.

The thing about mornings (as I’ve mentioned before) is that time doesn’t slow down to accommodate the sartorially challenged.

I ended up getting to work (mostly) on time with all the appropriate bits covered. A colleague was kind enough to say I looked good in what I’d managed to put together. Small children didn’t flee in horror or point in ridicule so I must have not been too ridiculous.

But Garanimals would have been better.

Love, Mom

 

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Puppy Conversations | Puppy Rolls in Something Dead

Dear Kid,

When I got home last night, I said hi to Dad, and hi to the Puppy, and “What did This Dog roll in?”

Dad: He’s stinky?
Me: No…
Dad: How do you know he rolled in something?
Me: He’s. Filthy.
Dad: Really? I didn’t notice
Me: Our dog is tan and white. This animal, who has the general shape and attitude of our Puppy, is black and grey. How did you not notice?
Dad: I just didn’t. I wiped his paws when we came in from outside
Puppy: Outside? I like outside
Me: You wiped his paws. You missed his entire body but got his paws. How?? I have no words…You, little boy. Let’s get you cleaned up.
Puppy: I thought we were going outside
Me: Not at the moment. You are filthy. Come here
Puppy: What does “filthy” mean?
Me: It means you need to get cleaned up
Puppy: What is That Thing? I don’t think I like it
Me: It’s a wash cloth. It won’t hurt
Puppy: It doesn’t look like a treat
Me: Come here, baby, it’s just a washcloth
Puppy: It doesn’t smell like a treat either
Me: We need to get you cleaned up
Puppy: I think I will just sit here and stare at you
Me: I have treats
Puppy: You what?
Me: Atta boy
Puppy: I am a good boy
Me: Yes, you—holy moly, what on earth did you roll in?

The minute I touched the black on his fur, the air became perfumed. And by “perfumed” I mean stank to high heaven. Clearly, the boy had rolled in something dead. Very dead. Dead and rotting. Which had then dried on him. As I rehydrated the very dead and rotting whateveritwas, the aroma returned.

It was not (to my nose) enjoyable and it did not improve as I cleaned him.

Puppy: I am a very good sharer
Me: Mmmm
Puppy: If you want to smell this good I can show you where to roll
Me: Mmmm
Puppy: But it would be better if you left the good smell on me
Me: Um, no
Puppy: Because you’re just moving the yummy smell to the washcloth
Me: I know. I may need to burn the washcloth
Puppy: Which means I won’t smell good anymore
Me: Wow this is potent. Into the sink with you. Bathtime.
Puppy: What? How did that happen? I was being so good
Me: Laws of nature
Puppy: Laws are better when they don’t involve baths

Update: The Puppy is clean (for the moment), the washcloth is clean (for the moment), and the dead whateveritwas is still out there. Hoping Dad keeps a better eye on the baby today.

Love, Mom

Who do you know who would enjoy Puppy Conversations? Share the DearKidLoveMom.com love

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