Do you ever have days like this?

Whoa! Is summer really almost over?

Today Spencer is six and a "hawf".  He has somehow managed to take over Matthew by three and a hawf years, but whatever works.  It's hard to believe that it's been three years since the little fellow came zipping into our lives.  His speedy delivery of 22 minutes after arriving at the hospital was only a foreshadowing of things to come.  The joy he has brought is immeasurable despite the few times he makes me want to scream "uncle" and wonder if perhaps a more patient mother shouldn't be working with him.   We made a Toy Story cake for him which we question the sanitary nature of but so far no one has gotten ill--to my knowledge.  Or at least they haven't called to report it.  Before the party, Spencer stood on a chair admiring the arrangement of Woody, Buzz Lightyear, Lotso and the like and started singing "Happy Birthday to me. . ."  It was darling beyond words.

Matthew is playing soccer again although he had a close brush with the death of his soccer career.  I forgot to sign him up in time.  Actually, I should clarify.  I postponed signing him up because technically I didn't forget I just kept putting it off and then when I got around to it I was told the teams were full. Luckily for him, the soccer powers that be elected to add one more team of which he now proudly wears the tangerine.  You can't miss him.  Land 'O Frost or some lunch meat company sponsors all these teams and they cut corners by making the head holes on the shirts barely large enough to fit Caroline.  There is no elastic and no give whatsoever and if I were Matthew I would have called it quits a long time ago but thankfully he has more drive than I do.

So the first game was on Saturday.  We planned to go but then all manner of mayhem broke loose in the  morning and the boys couldn't stop attacking each other and in a moment of frustration I proclaimed, "That's enough.  You're not going to the soccer game today."  And then I was stuck.  If I went back on my proclamation then it looked bad (although I go back all the time).  I think I was secretly looking for a way to get out of sitting in the 95 degree heat to watch the men in tangerine run to the wrong goal.  It was a cheap shot,  I admit.  Thankfully Corbin takes Love and Logic more serious than I do and proclaimed that if I said "no soccer" then I had to stick with it.  So today I called the coach with our apologies for having "something come up" in the late hour.  That's when I was informed that we would be having practice every Friday night at 5:30.  Ugh.  I really liked the last coach's attitude that there was no need to commit to practice for a pre-school team.  Perhaps when you move into the kindergarten league there's a whole new commitment level involved that I'm unprepared for.  I could see myself following that train of thought right through his entire educational career.  Why bother practicing. . . he's only a senior in high school?"  So perhaps it's good that I get whipped into shape now before I ruin his whole life.