Treats

Posted on July 11, 2013 by tosabarbell

When I wrote about looking forward to a weekend with the pilots, I severely underestimated the experience. I was just a tad concerned that the build up and expectations I’d set would fall just a hair short. Boy, was I wrong.

These people? They know how to throw a party.

Weddingplane in flowers

After a beautiful and slightly funny wedding (thanks to their Priest, he was a stitch) a few of us relaxed and had snacks (and Sangria:) while the wedding party did their wedding party thing. Spending time with KCon and Rich in a quieter setting and having a chance to talk was a treat. Honestly, TREAT is a word I used often that evening. See, I don’t take fun for granted. I love having fun but I’ve had enough bumps in the road to understand that fun is a treat. Hugs are a treat. Dancing with the bride was a treat (I stepped on her feet, probably not much of a treat for her.)

The airplanes they had as one of the favors was a treat, even more so when the groom’s Ma (who somehow adopted Bigg for the night) told us to put together as many as possible and fly them all night long. Giving this crew open invitation for flying cardboard airplanes at each other all night was a risk. We sent about eight of them at the bride and groom when they arrived to the reception. Had to.

We were placed at what could only be the funnest table of the party (I know the bride and groom probably had a fun table too, I just don’t see how theirs could compare to ours.) Pilots; pilots sister’s; wives; and us situated right between the open bar and the actual treat table. Score.

Weddingsugar

Having a chance to spend time with Dobbs; KCon; Rich: Jeff; the Howie mask; and Jack was the biggest treat of all. Really. As serious as they are about their careers, they take celebrating just as seriously and we had an absolute blast. It was really quite something. Thinking about it makes me overwhelmed with thankfulness that we were able to be there.

Weddingwfaccrew1

We had a slight misunderstanding during the night when one of my FB pictures caused a ruckus among friends back home…

Photo: Wedding selfies

See, I labeled this ‘wedding selfies.’ I guess that got some folks talking and an informant, errr, informed me that people thought Bigg and I had tied the not. Uhhhhhh, no. Stop it people. Not happening. Anywhoo, since I had spent the last seven hours drinking Sangria and wine, I MAY have decided to have fun and fan the flames on that little rumor. It quickly got out of hand and I had to focus my double vision to put a stop to it. MyBad.

All in all, it was one for the books. By far the most fun I’ve ever had at a wedding and a complete treat from morning ’till…well the next morning when we all had breakfast together. Which, by the way, was another unexpected treat. It’s the first time I’ve actually wanted to write a Thank You to the bride and groom for bringing us together and giving us all such a wonderful day.

Jess and Jeff…thank you. Aloha.

It’s the one night where everyone I care about is in one room and I CAN’T talk to them!

Jeff, lamenting about the fact that the evening went so fast.

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To Reiterate…

Posted on July 9, 2013 by tosabarbell

I had to review some posts the other day, wondering if I’d already wrote about a current rant of mine when I noticed something. It seems that even though (in my mind) I post about random topics and not nearly enough bacon, there actually are recurring themes around here. If I were to rate them, I’d do it like this.

You’re not him. Really. Stop acting as if you are.

Stop acting as if you’re destined to be him. You’re not. Especially if you’ve started training in your 20’s, you’re too far behind. Stop training as if what he, and others who compete at his level in whatever sport you choose, is appropriate for you. Stop looking for the strong pill, it doesn’t exist. It’s called years and years of putting in your time AND having the genetic potential of the best of the best AND having all the stars align to bring it all together. Stop whining about your training or the fact that a judge didn’t like you or whatever else you waste energy bitching about. Take your life and make it stronger. Compete and be competitive and then get back in the gym and keep working. I know some people who have made a very happy life with this approach. Their goals are written with years in mind, not only the right now. So bumps in the road are absorbed and dealt with. Not lamented on their on-line training log as if you’ve suddenly become a teenage girl and attention whore until you feel better. Just train, the best to your ability, and be happy you can. Achievement will come, but it won’t look like Z.

 

Stop pretending that a “little cheat now and then” isn’t your everyday. Stop letting your food derail you. You are not powerless, you are in control. You are strong enough to put a bar on your back that’s heavier than anything you’ve done up to today yet a cannoli  is bigger than you? Please. Stop thinking that your food “is getting better.” Stop it. You and I both know that’s bullshit. It’s either good or it’s shit. There is no middle ground with someone who needs to drop fat. Take a long look in the mirror and have an honest conversation with yourself. You eat too much sugar, too many carbs, drink too much alcohol (I just had that talk) or all of the above. Calories are going in that is detrimental to your health. Stop it. SRSLY.

Above all else, let your kids go. Your job as a hands-on parent has a time limit. Raise them to be strong and independent and they’ll know you’ll be there when they stumble. But for gawdsakes, let them go. The amount of whining I see on the FB of parents who’s children are off to college or the military or even camp is astounding. Shut. Up. They are embracing opportunity and it is their time to live. It’s not about you anymore. Sure, there are twinges of childhoods gone but the fact that they’re on their own is a good thing. Stop babying them…unless they’re a baby. Say NO, teach them right from wrong. Stop explaining how “we don’t want to do that because…” BECAUSE IT’S WRONG! That’s what they need to know. Right, wrong, and that mommy won’t always be there to cushion your fall. But you’ll be okay. We can’t have our children living at home in their 30’s because they’re too afraid to go out in the world and fail. Because they’re not kids anymore. Differentiate between those two words, Children and Kids. Very different. Let ’em go.

Eat bacon. Slab bacon is best. We’re out, so I’ve gotta go get some.

There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.

Buddha

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Monday Bacon: Dad, Do You Even Lift?

Posted on July 8, 2013 by tosabarbell

We’ve been attending some very entertaining sporting events of Bigg’s nieces and nephews this year which has re-introduced me to the Sport Parents of the world (not his Sister or B-I-L…they’re chill.) The yelling and screaming and expecting of 6-7 years olds to know exactly what to do on the field at all times is comical.

I am the first to admit, I have had to apologize to my Z’s for being a sport parent. I expected too much of them and at times, had a negative impact on their childhood sports experiences. I’m not proud of that, in fact just typing this makes me sad. Time lost, opportunities gone to make it right. All I could do is apologize, and I have. I can apply lessons learned to the Oz man, and I have.

I can also set the tone for how to behave on and off the field. I train, I practice my sport, and I eat to support such endeavors. So ya, I lift bro (or in this case, Son.) Oz is also spoiled by having a Dad who trains at a great black iron gym in Burnsville, SouthSide Bully. So Oz is used to either going to the gym with him, or occupying himself while his dad trains. That he and I are around a ProStrongman all the time who trains harder and harder as time goes by doesn’t hurt either. All around his life, Oz knows it’s expected of him to work hard, not complain, and do his best. That’s my job as a sport parent.

But as I look around at the screamers on various fields I have to ask myself, “Dad/Ma, do you even lift?” I think there may be a couple runners here and there but parents who train AND compete are in short supply in the every day world. Not cool.

Oz has decided to play football this year. I’m excited to have him be a part of a team again, that’s good for him as he’s missed  out on Baseball the last couple of years. His coach seems glad to have a six foot, 210 pound 7th grader on his team. When I mentioned to Bigg’s dad (who was a starter on the Iowa football team for his four years there) that Oz doesn’t really know the in’s and out’s of football, his reply? ‘Have fun. His job now is to have fun. He’ll learn. Now is the time for fun and to create a love for the game.’ I really like Hawkeye (Bigg’s dad is called Hawkeye instead of Grandpa, he’s pretty cool.) Hawkeye hit the nail on the head and I wish I would have had that advice when the Z’s were younger.

So, my job as a sport parent is to A) make sure my kid is having fun and 2. set an example of how to train and compete. I have the second one down, I’m hoping I succeed in the first. Time will tell. But when Oz wears the competition shirts I give him from each games and people ask him if he competed I have to say I’m proud of the fact that he can say, “No, but my mom did.” 

Don’t measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability. 

John Wooden

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Friday Jams

Posted on July 5, 2013 by tosabarbell

I’ve been waiting for what seems like a year for this weekend. I’ll be heading to Michigan for one of my pilot’s wedding which means not only do I get to celebrate the very special day of  one of the people I most respect and admire in this world (and his awesome girl) but I get to spend time with a large portion of my Top Gun crew.

I adore my pilots. Nowhere else in life have I been able to watch the drive and determination of a whole group of people who so carefully keep their eyes on the prize. That they do so with such character and humor makes them all the more special. The fact that one is currently out of the country and will be dearly missed will make our time even that more special and I’m so thankful for it.

I’m excited to hear about their adventures and their lives and just be enveloped in their craziness. So a little Top Gun to kick off the weekend seems appropriate.

Enjoy the weekend.

‘I am’ is reportedly the shortest sentence in the English language. Could it be that ‘I do’ is the longest sentence?

George Carlin

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