My best soccer-mom friend Gina and I headed out last Thursday for a fun filled weekend with our teenage daughters and the Mustang Rampage team. Any sentence that includes teenagers and parental fun is an oxymoron, just so you know, even in the face of much evidence, this is something I still forget.
ox·y·mo·ron
ˌäksəˈmôrˌän/
noun
a figure of speech in which apparently contradictory terms appear in conjunction (e.g., faith unfaithful kept him falsely true ).
We had the illusion that three days in Phoenix would be fun. What it turned out to be was a practice in patience, determination and strength.
We got to the airport two and a half hours in advance. This was nice, but I was also with my teenage daughter, so I could not sit in the bar and kill time, like a normal adult.
Instead, we had salads, and sat in the chairs by the gate waiting for our team to slowly trickle in. Then, we had the stressful SW Airlines cattle car boarding ritual which I hate with a passion. Having paid to board early, I was asked to save twenty seats for my daughters teammates, from four other teams, as we were all on the same flight.
We arrived at our tournament assigned hotel with out incident. From our room we had a view of the pawn shop, the gun store and the six lane freeway. My fellow travelers were unimpressed, and half the team decamped to the Hyatt after a homeless man jumped over the pool fence and into the pool.
I watched all of this with minor amusement, but decided when you’re in a room with four people changing hotels is only a slight improvement.
Lost shoes, lost games, forgotten jerseys, balls kicked into a crowd of heckling parents, and more. I tell myself to breath. Slowly, I breath in and out. I allow my own thoughts to sink into my bones. I go within on the sunny patio with the blue sky above me and I am thankful for this day in which to be alive.
On Sunday morning, I sleep miraculously until 11 a.m., the other mom has gone to the gym, had breakfast, and then went to church. But, I slumber on with the two sixteen year olds. I clock ten plus hours of sleep.
Later that day, I find myself at a Giants Spring Training game. Music is playing, I have my beautiful daughter by my side, and a giant beer in my hand.
Heaven and hell at the Phoenix Cup.
Sydney 