Bracing Myself for Braces

I was under the mistaken impression that 4 years of braces, headgear and rubberbands for me — as well as my husband’s mouthful of perfectly straight, never-altered-by-hardware teeth — would mean that we would get a pass on the big O when it came to our kids.

But no. Both our boys have been referred to an orthodontist to determine how we can burn through our lifetime maximum of orthodontia per kid, faster than Kardashians make money, just for being talented  classy  subtle … uh … reality TV fodder and punchlines for comics?

The lifetime maximum orthodontia benefit is $2,000 a person, per my dental plan. My very helpful dental plan’s website has an “orthodontia estimation calculator” — which would be more aptly named if it was called The Silver-Plated Money Suck Estimator. It tells me I can expect basic/nothing exotic/this-will-never-be-your-case orthodontia to cost us a minimum of approximately $6,000.

Per. Kid.

I wonder if I can put this on the memo line of the checks I’ll be writing?
©2011-2013 ~JWeinstock

Luckily, the orthodontia practice we have selected offers an interest-free payment plan. That’s a good thing, since the non-covered portion of this orthodontia is going to cost me as much as:

ONE of these Vera Wang wedding dresses
Copyright © Dolce Sposa 2013

Or 67% of a USED Hyuandi Accent Hatchback

Or this pair of Christian Louboutin crystal heels that would also cost me an ADDITIONAL $8,000 in orthopedic work, after I snap my ankle trying to walk in them

Or a vintage Chanel purse.  Yellow IS my favorite color

Or a 1.51 carat round cut diamond that is on sale for only $7,900. I would have $100 left burnin’ a hole in my pocket!

A set of perfect happy faces will be a minimum of $8,000 out-of-pocket for us. It’s hard to believe, however, that any amount of money can improve upon these smiles.

A Big, Pink Thank You

I’ll get right to the point — about which my husband would say “Ha — as if you could ever pull off getting right to the point without a meandering story to go along with it!”  (Up yours, honey. How’s that for succinct?)

I want to thank the readers who saw my post about the Honorary Bat Girl contest sponsored by Major League Baseball, and voted for my friend and fellow little league team mom Krista McElwain. Krista was nominated by her amazing daughter Sarah Grace, who wrote a very moving essay.

I am pleased to report that Krista was selected as the 2013 Baltimore Orioles Honorary Bat Girl!  Here is her daughter’s essay:

Meet the 2013 Baltimore Orioles Honorary Bat Girl

To honor Krista, the little league team is organizing a group outing to Oriole Park at Camden Yards on Tuesday, May 14, so that we can all be there when she throws out the first pitch. The boys on the team are going to wear their uniform jerseys, which have been adorned with the breast cancer ribbon for the past two years.

Our boys support the fight against breast cancer

I hope you will take the time to read the stories of all the amazing winners, who, like Sarah Grace and her mom – live with HOPE.

To all those whose mantra is “fight like a girl” – you are an inspiration.

Momcraft

So, in yet another spectacular example of my failure as a parent, I have no idea what the hell Minecraft is.

Mojang © 2009-2013. “Minecraft” is a trademark of Notch Development AB

Um…perhaps I should have an idea since my 9 year old son Nick plays it C-O-N-S-T-A-N-T-L-Y.  By constantly, I mean when he’s not doing homework, in school, playing baseball, sleeping or eating, he’s MineCrafting (soon to be an Oxford dictionary verb, like Googling?).

For all I know, MineCraft has these features:

• topless 36DD Playmate-style commandos
• guns, guns and more guns
• hot rodding through the streets of some gotham-esque computer generated city, ignoring stop signs and blowing through red lights, as you toss empty cans of Bud Light out the window
• the “f” bomb used in every other sentence (sort of like at our house)
• apocolypic zombies eating the flesh of innocents
• knives, machetes and other sharp instruments of destruction
• point accumulation indexes based on drinking, smoking, cussing, shooting, lying, stealing, porno appreciation, virtual promiscuity, vehicular violations, drug cartel leadership, and amassing the most felony charges

I’ll tell you that it’s my observation that the most important, get-you-the-highest-score feature of Minecraft appears to be ignoring your mother when she asks you to unload the dishwasher.

I was talking with a colleague about the game and asked him if he knew anything about it.  He told me it was actually a creative game, where you build things. He said “think of it like an electronic erector set, or electronic legos.”

Wow. No boobs. No bombs. No bad-assin’ around. Just being creative and letting your imagination run away with you?

Perhaps I need to worry less about Minecraft and see if I can up the lousy score I seem to have on Momcraft.

Real Super Heroes: Honorary Bat Girls

As many of my readers know, my family is BIG into sports.  We are now into the baseball season – with 5 months of practices, recreational team games, travel team games and tournaments, and All Star tournaments for our boys.

My oldest son’s team wears a pink ribbon patch on their travel/All Star uniforms. We have a team mom who is a breast cancer survivor — going into her 6th year cancer free! We have another mom who was diagnosed about 18 months ago and has gone through chemo, radiation and the host of indignities that every cancer patient suffers through. HOPE is a very important word to her.

The boys proudly wear the pink ribbon patch in support of their teammate’s mom who is currently fighting the battle.  It reminds them that win or lose, there are things in life bigger than a baseball game.

Our boys support the fight against breast cancer

I had recently been on a work trip to Louisville, KY.  I visited the Louisville Slugger museum while there. During the tour of the factory, they told the story of the pink bats used on Mother’s Day throughout the Major League Baseball.

The pink bat in the Louisville Slugger store

I was impressed with the Louisville Slugger company. When my Facebook newsfeed had a story from the Baltimore Orioles about the Honorary Bat Girl Contest on Mother’s Day co-sponsored by Major League Baseball and Louisville Slugger, I immediately thought of my baseball family.  Without reading the details, I suggested the contest to the daughter of the mom currently in the fight.

Sarah Grace was very excited and wrote an essay about why she would like to be considered. Turns out you have to be 18 years old to be nominated to win.  Sarah Grace is not yet in high school. Disappointed — but not discouraged — she immediately wrote a nomination for her mom.

I hope you will consider voting for any of the amazing women who have been nominated.  You can search by baseball team to select someone local to you.  But I also HOPE you’ll read the story of my fellow baseball mom Krista. You can vote for Krista here:  http://bit.ly/VoteKristaMc

Sarah Grace is an amazing young lady. Her efforts to honor her mother and other breast cancer victims gives us the HOPE we all need.

Krista and Sarah Grace

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Update on my No Runs. No Hits. No Mother. post:

My husband did get that Opening Day photo.  He took it with our nice camera.  He  texted me that he got a picture of the boys and then e-mailed the picture to me while I was in Louisville.

It was a great picture:

What a handsome pair

When I got home from my trip, I took pictures at a game on Sunday. When I went to download the pictures, there was the original Opening Day picture. And a few more my husband hadn’t mentioned:

Another view. Nice.

Brotherly love – awww (or maybe that should be ‘awe’)

Uh….what’s going on here?

Oh yeah. They’re my kids.

Most Valuable Husband. For sure.

No Runs. No Hits. No Mother.

This Saturday is the annual Opening Day for the GVAA little league for our sons.  The little kids in tee ball, machine pitch and the minors love it – they get to stand on the “big boy” field and wave their caps to all the parents and grandparents as their team name is called.  The tweens enjoy it because they can shove, wedgie, wet willy and sucker punch one another in a group cluster where no one can really determine who started it. And the teens endure it cuz there might be some hot sisters of their fellow teammates milling about.

Now, I’m what you would call a big supporter. Some might say I go a little too far. I do things like buy sparkly iron-ons and wear them in public, to support my boys.

A sparkly-breasted salute to my baseball stars

When it comes to kids playing, having a good time, developing team camaraderie (that doesn’t involve wedgies), learning some skills and being the responsibility of someone other than me getting playing tips from their coach for a few hours? Count me in.

And I really like the moms and dads of the other kids on the teams.  They are a pretty cool bunch. If they are willing to overlook my flaws (cussing ad nauseum), I am willing to overlook a few things too (I may have said to some well-intentioned, holier-than-me individuals,  ”I appreciate your efforts to save my heathen soul, but…really…for the last time…I’m not accepting anyone as my savior unless they arrive in the Publisher’s Clearing House van holding a very large check with my name on it.”).

But this year, Opening Day will be different for me.  I will be spending it — not (as you might suspect) in the 8th circle of hell (aka concession stand duty). Nope. I’ll be in Louisville, KY. (Editor’s note: go Cards, my son Nick has you winning it all in his bracket this year!)

My new job duties require me to attend a conference in Louisville this weekend. So this is the first Opening Day — in the 6 years Alex and Nick have been playing — that I will miss.

Nick – ready for tee ball in 2007. Which seems like a million years ago now. Not a mere 6 years.

Each year I’ve gotten Opening Day pictures of our boys. Like this one from last year.

It looks like Nick is giving his brother a wedgie. But he’s not. Maybe.

This year, I’m relying on my husband to get the Opening Day picture.  Which I’m sure he’s going to enjoy being responsible for, in addition to carting the boys to the Opening Day ceremony, keeping the team he coaches from partaking in too many wet willies, and then getting both boys to their games. It would be so much easier if his wife didn’t have to be out of town on business this weekend.

For me, it’s no runs or hits this weekend. Let’s hope there’s no error in securing an Opening Day photo.

Mom’s Vital Signs

Yesterday, the coach of my son Alex’s travel baseball team sent an e-mail with a list of the signs our boys would need to master for this season.  It was a mind-numbing list, considering I can’t even get my 11 year old to remember that athletic cups belong no where near or on:

• the kitchen table
• tray tables in the family room
• the decorative shelf in the family room
• the dog (don’t ask)

My son and his teammates have to learn the signs for steal, bunt, fake bunt, hit and run…and so many more. Here’s the coach’s e-mail:

Hi everyone,

To help the players learn the new signals for this baseball season, we’d like you to help your player learn them. It will be a fun activity with you son. The following are the signals, so if you could go through them with your son, print them if you can, and also try them out so he can identify the signal with you just doing them, that would be very cool. It will help a lot. We will use these signals in the game on Sunday.

Tips in teaching them: nothing the 3rd base coach does matters with his gestures until he executes the indicator (hands to both ears). So, the boys need to focus on the indicator AND the first thing done immediately after the indicator. Nothing else matters in getting the signals. When you are teaching them, do a bunch of stuff before and after the indicator so your player can find the indicator action.

Signals:

Indicator: will be hands to both ears. Remember no signal is on until the indicator is given, and then it’s the 1st signal following the indicator. If there is no signal given following the indicator, then nothing is on. Players really need to focus on the indicator being given, because nothing else matters with the 3rd base coach’s actions until that happens.

Bunt: will be one hand to the back of the neck following the indicator.

Steal: will be a swipe down each arm following the indicator.

Hit and Run: will be a swipe down each arm, and a swipe across the belt following the indicator.

Fake Bunt Double Steal: will be a swipe down each arm, followed by a swipe down each leg, following the indicator.

Take: will be open hand to the W on the front of the cap, automatic take with a 3-0 count unless you get the “green light.”

Green Light: will be 1 finger pointed at the batter with NO indicator given.

Wipe off signal given prior pitch: will be swipe across the chest following the indicator. The signal is on the next pitch if the coach doesn’t swipe across the chest following the indicator.

Suicide Squeeze: will be open hand to the mouth of the 3rd base coach, following the indicator. Both the runner on 3rd and the batter must pull on the bill of their helmet to advise that they both have the signal.

Player’s Responsibilities:

All batters and base runners: every batter and runner need to acknowledge when they get the signal. Once you get the signal, you should grab your helmet on the bill, like you are pulling down your helmet for a better fit, this tells us that you have picked up and received the signal.

Batters: Before every pitch as a batter it is your responsibility to look for signals from the 3rd base coach. Except when there are 2 strikes, not much the coach can give to the batter at that time. If the coach does decide to put something on with 2 strikes, (which is very rare), the coach will ask for the batter to step out.

Base runners: Base runners, every pitch, no matter the bases you are on, it is your responsibility as soon as you get on that base, to pick up the 3rd base coach for signals. Don’t look into the stands at your girlfriend or parents watching to see if they are cheering for you, immediately pick up the 3rd base coach. Don’t worry, they are cheering for you!

Geez!  All that crammed into their 11 year old brains?  It’s no wonder they can’t remember to put their cup where it belongs.

But it got me thinking…maybe I should be using signs in my house.  So here’s the list I’ve come up with:

Who cut into the Bunt cake? It’s supposed to be for a bake sale! : will be one hand to the back of my neck to rub out the newly tensed up muscle, following the indicator.

Stealing Cookies: will be me swiping at the arm with which you are trying to steal the cookies, following the indicator.

Hitting your brother and running away so he can’t retaliate: will be a swipe toward your backside if you come running anywhere near me, following the indicator.

Do not call my creation ‘Fake‘; Bunt cake still tastes good even it gets its start from a box mix. And I’m Double sure you won’t be Stealing a piece anyway: will be me swiping at each arm reaching out to cut themselves piece, following the indicator.

For the love of all that is holy, would you please take the garbage out: will be my open hand smacked to my forehead, unless I give you the “green light” to keep sitting on your ass (not likely), following  the indicator.

You do NOT have a Green Light to run thru this house: will be 1 (middle) finger pointed at the runner, following the indicator.

Wipe off the counter. Do you need a special signal, given that no prior yelling by me has helped you to see the mess you made? And aim the damn dirty wipe toward the trashcan. The last time you pitched it in the general direction of your brother and that nearly caused another hit and run: will be a swipe across the top of the the container to snatch a cleaning wipe and hand it to the offender, following the indicator.

Look, this isn’t my first rodeo. The ketchup didn’t commit suicide by self-squeeze until it was empty, and then put itself back in the frig. So who was the last to use it?: will be a hand to my open mouth in a feigned display of surprise and shock at finding empty food containers in the refrigerator, following the indicator.

Look. It’s mom’s sign for empty the dish washer.
Photo Credit (c) Paolo Tarantini, Flickr

And my “Indicator(s)“:  ”Sh*t!”  ”F*ck!”   “D*mn!”  ”H*ll!”.   Depending on the offense, it may be a possible ear-numbing combination of any of them.

 

Unleashing My Inner Artist

My paternal grandmother Merrie Pender Childrey Himmelheber was a woman well ahead of her time.  She was an amazing artist who went to college to perfect her craft, graduating from George Washington University in 1930 (!) with a degree in Fine Arts.

She got married and raised 5 children. But she continued to sketch, draw and paint for nearly 70 years.  She was a devout Baptist – a charter member of not one, but two churches.  She never got her driver’s license; my grandfather drove her where she needed to go. When he passed away in 1983, she wasn’t a recluse – she started walking everywhere she needed to go if she wasn’t able to catch a ride.

She exercised every day well into her 80s, on a little trampoline she purchased. Also in her 80s, she took a trip to Europe with her church group.  She painted many landscapes from the pictures she took while on that trip. Water colors ended up being her specialty. I have them everywhere in my house.

She had a terrific sense of humor and told amazing stories, mostly about my father’s shenanigans as a young boy. My father’s shenanigans and silliness continue to this day.

My grandmother passed away March 28, 2009. It was about 5 months after she had celebrated her 100th birthday with a big community party, surrounded by family, friends and a few (not-yet-disgraced) local political dignitaries.

I would like to think that I got an iota of her amazing artistic talent, manifesting itself through my cake, cupcake and cookie decorating.

Or maybe it’s through the decorative art I create for our house. Like the artwork in our family room:

Artwork inspired by the rug in our family room

Oil paint inspired by colors inour family room

Or fun projects for Halloween decorations:

My boys with the candy corn flower pots I painted

Yeah, I carved that freehand

Or artwork I make for the Christmas holidays:

Holiday art – I “wish” I could win PowerBall

Merry. Christmas, that is.

Joy. To the World

Save me your prostitute jokes, people

This past Wednesday, my sister posted this photo to Facebook. It was a few of the sketches my grandmother had done while in college.  My sister had just gotten them back from the framer.

Two nudes. Well, the female model is nude. The male model wore a cod piece. Coward.

It was interesting that she posted the photos that day because my new professional colleagues and I were attending a team building activity at a place called Brush N Blush.  As a group, you select a painting, and then an artist walks your group through painting the picture. You drink a little wine, paint and have a good time exploring everyone’s talent. Or proclaimed lack thereof.

Many of us were very worried about this activity. I know my artistic talents are limited to baked goods and copying art projects I see on HGTV. Others felt they had no talent at all and were totally out of their comfort zone.

This is the painting our group did:

After Five

We all had a good time relaxing, painting and checking out each other’s progress.  Up close, you see all that’s wrong with your painting. You can’t see the full vision, even though the instructor keeps encouraging you. Here’s my work halfway done:

My wine glass definitely should be bigger

The instructor heard all of us complaining about how we lacked talent, it looked nothing like the sample and was there a prize for worst interpretation.  So for each of us (and there were 20+ in our group), she either picked the canvas up and walked a distance away, or forced us to get up and move away from the canvas. And an amazing thing happened….

My finished work. Um. Wow.

Taking a step back and assessing the work from a distance gave us a greater appreciation for its beauty. We didn’t see all the imperfections and flaws; just how wonderfully everything came together for our own unique rendering.

At the end of the day, that’s pretty good advice  for all of us. Take a step back — make sure you are seeing the whole picture — that you aren’t focusing just on the faults. And you will begin to appreciate the beauty of any situation.