My Acceptance Speech

If I were to get an award for successfully making it through the day, this would be my acceptance speech.  Before I get too into my speech, let me explain that when I say “successfully making it through the day” I use the word “successfully” loosely.  I truly mean we basically JUST make it through the day.

This is what I would say…

I can’t believe I am being honored for making it through the day.  I didn’t think I would be awarded this honor, so I didn’t really have anything special prepared (remove my speech from my purse…after seriously digging and finding my acceptance speech crumpled together with a receipt that has a piece of one of my kid’s chewed gum stuck to it).

I would like to thank all of the little people.  Literally, if it weren’t for my kids I wouldn’t be a Mom. My daily life wouldn’t be a constant open mouth, racing to be on time, screeching roller coaster ride from one important sporting event to a birthday party to some sort of camp and so on. It continues to be quite the ride.

I would like to thank Super Target.  Thank you, I love you…and Starbuck’s. 

I would like to thank my sports Mom friends that make me feel ok with myself when I once again have forgotten snacks for whatever kid’s sporting event we are at. 

Here’s to my parents who had three kids themselves and get it.  Thank you for taking them while we let our hair down.  We don’t even mind if you spoil them…just don’t give them sugar or Mountain Dew.

I would like to thank the afterhours gym coordinator at school who acts like her calendar of events might be wrong and that she is glad that I am there talking to her, when deep down she knows that I am at the wrong place and that there is no way my kid has practice at her gym.

I would like to send out a big shout out to all of the babysitters out there.  If you need some extra cash…call me.  Call me.

I would truly like to thank all of those coaches (including my husband) that teach my children how to play the game, but more importantly teach my children to play fair, be good losers, have fun and to “be classy” when playing the game (famous advice from Coach Erickson). Whether you know it or not, what you teach them on the field/court translates to their everyday life.

Thanks to old friends who know me so well.

To new friends that automatically seem like old friends.

Nancy.

Red Wine.

Thanks to my husband, who is a Dad and a coach and a good friend.  Very, very solid guy.  He should get a similar award, but since there is only one awarded… ever…I will be accepting it

Thanks to Rush Creek Elementary.  You have blessed us with some very, very good teachers. Thanks for singing about new shoes, new haircuts, letting me volunteer to help with math to the 2^nd graders (I have already apologized) and especially…especially for telling the 4^th graders to wear deodorant.  You, having my back on that one is priceless.

Thanks to my brothers. I am stronger, sharper…always look behind an open door, know how to spit and don’t throw or punch like a girl because of you two.

To my Dad who taught me how to put a worm on a hook (huge with boys).

To my Mom who taught me how to be a friend to my daughter.

Good friends.  Sister and brother-in-laws. Nordstrom Rack.  Vodka.  Cool bosses. Flexible work schedules. Nieces and nephews that have game.

People that do random nice things that touch my soul and move me to be a nicer person to others.

And a big thanks to God for giving me a sense of humor.

Where is the post award ceremony party?

The Lawn Mower



As the 4th of July winds down, I am very sentimental.  I got to see my entire family, quite a few old friends and got to spend time in Des Moines and Clear Lake, which always leads me down memory lane. 

My family started the weekend in Des Moines.  We all came in from Germany, Omaha and Minneapolis. Our plan was to celebrate my Dad's 70th birthday.  He makes 70 look easy.  He is either a young 70 or just a funny guy whose personality is determined to outwit his age.  Either way, he doesn't seem 70.  He's just my Dad.  Funny.

Enter my "little" brother Craig. If you have met him once, you know him.  He holds nothing back.  He is an open book.  "Mystery" is not a good word to describe him.  He is funny, quick with a joke, wants to be your friend (unless you don't listen to his jokes) and definately demands attention.

The plan was that when we went to Des Moines for my Dad's birthday we were going to have a family picture taken. I went to Anthropology to buy something that I had my eye on. Family pictures...the perfect excuse to go to Anthropology.  While I was shopping, I started thinking about something and I just can't seem to shake it.

I was in my senior year at college at Loras.  It was Easter and I was going home to spend the weekend with my family.  Before I left for the weekend, I went to the Kennedy Mall in Dubuque, Iowa and bought a dress for Easter mass and brunch. 

I was so proud of my new dress that I bought with my own money.  I was so excited to show my Mom. I thought she would just love it. I drove the 3.5 hour drive from Dubuque to Des Moines with my Easter dress hanging proudly in the backseat window.

As I pulled into my parent's driveway, I saw that my younger brother Craig had beat me home.  In fact, he was halfway through mowing the front lawn.  He was hot, sweaty and was smiling from ear to ear.  My heart was so happy that he was smiling...he was so happy to see me.  In fact, he was so happy to see me that he just stopped mowing.  He was halfway through a strip in the front lawn and just stopped.  Half mowed...half not mowed.  It didn't matter.  We were together and we were going to have a fun weekend.

As I got out of the car, he came up to me...so happy, smiling. He gave me a huge, sweaty...stinky hug.  It was good to see him.  He asked if he could take my car down the street to the gas station to get something to drink.  It was hot.  Of course...grab me something while you are there.

He jumped in my car and off he went. Literally, the gas station was at the bottom of the hill...2 minutes away.

5 hours later, as my Mom and I sat in the living room watching out the window, we still believed that he would come back home with my car.  From time to time, we did laugh that he tricked me out of my car.  Yes, we did laugh.  But, still...

When all hope was gone, I called my friends and we rallied.  They picked me up and we went to our favorite gathering spot to see old high school friends.  Throughout the night I told old friends (who knew my brother) what had happened.  How my brother hugged me, took my car and never returned.  It was a little hard not to laugh at him.  One minute you want to kill Craig, the next minute he says or has done something and you are laughing like an idiot. 

My brother Craig has a rather large head of hair when it is grown out (think Kramer from Seinfeld).  When it is humid outside, it gets bigger.  The door to the bar opens up and above everyone's heads I see a large, fuzzy head of hair moving through the crowd, stopping occassionally to tell a joke...hug a friend. I bolted out of my seat and made my way through the crowd.  It was my brother (in the same stinky, sweaty clothes he had on when he was mowing the lawn) with a group of his friends.  Friends that I usually love to talk to, but now are the enemy.  Craig and I made eye contact.  As he saw me through the crowd, he smiled at me and somehow managed to make his way back out the door.  Gone, with my car...and my Easter dress.  Again.

The next morning when I woke up, my car was back.  I went outside to survey the damage. I passed the lawn mower, still sitting in the front lawn... half mowed, half not mowed.  My Dad would wake Craig up early to finish the job, as a means of torture for Craig who had been out until the early morning hours.  My car reaked like it had been packed full of college boys all night.  But, there hung my new Easter dress.  A little cock-eyed, but still hanging on the hanger.  All night they drove around in my car, with my Easter dress.  Careful not to make it fall off the hanger.

Life is weird and funny.  Family is good.  Old friends are so dear.  So, here's to Dads that give their sons their personalities and already know their next move and to brothers that pick on you, but don't let others pick on you and sweet Moms that laugh with you and want to see your Easter dress and old high school friends that will pick you up no matter what and don't let your Easter dress fall off the hanger. Here's to all of it.