Now that I’ve stopped laughing, you MUST read the hilarious story about how my sister ended up being rescued by the Coast Guard in the Bay of Fundy. And I thought MY long weekend was busy!

Totally pointless, really, but kind of fun nonetheless, I am featured on the front page of TopMama.com right now. You don’t have to, but if you’d kindly click on through it will help keep me there longer. And also, you may find some other fun moms to read about while you’re there.

Hi! It’s not quite 11:30 yet. I am so WIRED. Seriously. I don’t know what to do with myself, I have too much energy (I expect a crash around 5). I’ve been up since my cell phone alarm clock blasted “Fur Elise” in my ear at 6:30 this morning. I managed to drag myself out of bed by 6:45 and then had to convince both Breanna and Hayley that it was time to get up too; neither one was particularly impressed by that. I dragged myself down to the car by 7:30, and George dragged himself too since he didn’t get home until the middle of the night last night.

George dropped us off and I blearily wandered around the bigger-than-it-looked-on-Mapquest park, searching for tiny people in blue soccer shirts among the 8000 other kids and parents and coaches that were already there while also wondering where the Tim Horton’s was since every second parent seemed to have a cup of their coffee, and I cursed that we had apparently driven the wrong way since I was still uncaffeinated. Eventually everyone started arriving and things got underway.

And then I woke up. It helped that it was bright and sunny and not cold at all, but it was just so much fun that I ended up wide awake. Watching a team of 4- and 5-year-old girls run crazily after a ball is just hilarious and fun. I really enjoyed myself tremendously. At one point I got a good chuckle because during the warm up everyone had their own soccer ball, but obviously there was only one ball on the field at game time. At one point when Hayley was first rotated in, she was just sort of standing there watching the others run after the ball and I wondered why she wasn’t playing. Then she said, “I don’t have my ball” so she ran off the field and scooped up three soccer balls, then brought them out on to the field with her. It was so funny, and the coach had to explain to her that at game time, you only use one ball. I guess in her 4-year-old wisdom she had been thinking, “what a bunch of morons, why are they fighting for one ball when there’s a whole pile of them over there?!”

They were done by 9 and I called George to come pick us up. We got home by about 9:15 and I drank two cups of coffee, so between the early morning, the fresh air, and the caffeine I’m all buzzed. Whee! I have to make something to eat quickly now, because we have to leave here at 12:30 to get back there by 12:45 for the 1 pm game. I’m really looking forward to it.

Hayley kicking her ball during the warm up period:

I am SO making this Chicken Spaghetti recipe.

I was really anticipating receiving my copy of Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box because it’s a book about how to stop the relentless cycle of trying to be perfect mothers and berating ourselves when we aren’t. Who doesn’t need a reminder that being good enough is, well, good enough.

When I first started reading it, I wondered if maybe I didn’t need it after all since I’m not someone who lies awake, anxiously wondering if my kids are doomed to work at strip bars because I didn’t get them into a perfect preschool that will lead them straight to Harvard and onto the path to a great career. I don’t flog myself over the fact that I yell sometimes when I get mad. I never scheduled either of them into ten different activities while worrying that they aren’t popular enough with their friends. Maybe I didn’t need a book to tell me to ease up on myself.

Except I do, because tonight at Hayley’s soccer orientation, Breanna blew through her diaper with a massive poop and I had neglected to bring a) any wipes, b) a blanket, or c) a pair of clean pants. Frankly, after all of that, I was a little relieved to discover that at least I had put DIAPERS in the damn diaper bag. And so I stood there, silently berating myself for being such a craptacular mother that I had left home without the essentials, and suddenly I caught myself, thought of the book and how it explains that we have an automatic thought process that makes us do this to ourselves, and I laughed a bit and just did what I could with the situation at hand.

(I pulled out the Mai Tei wrap carrier that was in the bag, laid her on part of it on top of a table in a spare room, then used one of the ties to wipe her clean, put the diaper on, decided the spot that had leaked on her pants wasn’t that big and wouldn’t even touch her skin anyway since it would be against the clean diaper, and just pulled her shirt waaay down so no one would see. And yes, I will wash the carrier.)

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Well holy crap. Who is this big kid in a soccer uniform complete with shin guards and cleats?

(And why did they give everyone such enormously huge socks?! The heel comes up past her ankle!)

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1. Why my laundry can’t fold itself. I go and get it, I sort it (sort of, I’m a bit lazy with the sorting), I wash it, I dry it (and Breanna is a big fan of helping me put the wet stuff in the dryer) and I haul the dry things out to the living room in baskets. The least it can do is fold itself dammit.

2. Why there were wet flurries of snow with the rain last night. And why some of the Maritime areas got actual snowfall. In May. Suddenly I’m glad I haven’t planted a tomato plant yet what with all the frost and crap going on.

3. Why Melinda was voted off last night. Trust me, as a big Blake fan (Hi, I’m Sherry, and I’m a Blaker Girl) I’m thrilled he’ll still be there next week, but I really wanted a Blake-Melinda finale. Alas. Then again, it’s not the first time the best singer has gone home after the top three .

4. Why the apartment seems to get messier the more I try to keep it clean.

5. How I came to volunteer to be the assistant coach for Hayley’s soccer team. I’m not sure I know what I just got myself into!

I’m pretty sure I mentioned it back when we actually didn’t but I’m too lazy to check the archives – anyway, a couple of months ago we signed Hayley up for soccer. She’s always loved kicking a ball around, always refers to it as actually being soccer, and one of her favorite Backyardigans episodes is the one with the Soccer Monster (her absolute favorite one is The Tower of Power with Dr. Shrinky and Yucky Man, and the state of her room makes this fitting; Yucky Man indeed).

She was really interested in playing soccer some day but I thought they had to be older until we found out it actually starts at four years old, surprisingly. Off we trotted to the registration where a giant room was FULL of kids and parents and coaches and papers and it was insane. I had no idea so many people in our area played. We got her all signed up, and that was it until May.

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I hope you brought some marshmallows to toast in all those fires of hell, Jerry.

(Part of me feels terrible about smirking over someone’s death but you know, oh WAH, fuck it. He was a hateful, horrible asshole who used God in every way that is wrong. If there is a God I hope he slapped him away from the Pearly Gates with a booming “WRONG MESSAGE JERRY” and knocked him straight down below.)

I hope everyone who celebrated today had a wonderful Mother’s Day, whether it was with their own mom or because of being a mom.

I had a low-key but wonderful day. I got to spend the entire day with these two cute little monkeys:

And I got to go visit and have lunch with my own Mama:

And then I went to visit and have dinner with George’s mom where I managed to coerce the two girls into having one little picture with me, and you can see just how thrilled they were about it, what with Hayley’s “GOD, Mom” facial expression and the fact that Breanna is clearly trying to leap down to the floor to escape:

A good day, indeed. I’m going to wrap it up by watching the new “Criminal Minds” on television in less than 15 minutes. In honor of this day, I’d like to re-post what I wrote last year:

Happy Mother’s Day to every mother out there.

To every mother of a biological child. To every mother of an adopted child. To every birth mother who has ever given a child up. To every mother who has ever taken in a foster child to try to help make one person live a happier life. To every mother-to-be who is counting down the days until birth. To every mother who has ever lost a child. To every mother who has ever lost the baby they never even held. To every mother who has taken a negative pregnancy test and tried again and again and again, forever hoping for two pink lines. To every surrogate mother who has selflessly carried a baby for another mother. To every mother who is somehow perfect and in full control of everything. To every mother who is floundering and living in chaos. To every mother who weeps tears of joy on her newborn’s head. To every mother who weeps tears of postpartum depression and wonders when it gets better. To every mother who screws up and dusts it all off and tries again tomorrow.

To every woman who is or wants to be a mother in any way, happy Mother’s Day.