Living Happily Ever After
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Blog Articles

A Good Kick In The Pants And A Season Of Growth

Date: February 14, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Each man should frame life so that at some future hour, fact and his dreaming meet.” (Victor Hugo)

Lest anyone think all that has been happening in the unexpected life of our family are boys making less than ideal choices—like ditching kindergarten and scheduling a playground fight with a  school bully via Facebook—we’ve witnessed a few dreams become reality, too!

Several months ago, we saw my oldest achieve a lifelong (since he was 5 years old) dream: to play hockey at the college level. I confess, the first time I saw my son skate onto the ice while the fans roared their support, I think I was probably the only person there with tears rolling down her cheeks! I couldn’t help it. Everyone else may have seen a tall, handsome, athletic man on ice skates, skating like the wind, fighting for the puck and working for a goal…but all I could see was a little preschooler so passionate about skating he never took off the blue Playskool skates he strapped to every pair of shoes he owned; the kindergartener who begged me to let him play hockey; the little boy who hounded his mother all day for what seemed like every day of the year to let him play hockey, until 5th grade, when I finally relented and enrolled him at Big Bear; and the enthusiastic boy who came off the ice after his first game so thrilled with everything about the sport he uttered words I never expected to hear come out of my ultra-competitive son’s mouth: “Mom! Hockey is SO FUN, it doesn’t matter if you win or lose, you’re just so thrilled to play the game!”

He never quit. He seemed to eat, breathe and sleep ice hockey from that moment forward. He was out practicing his shots or skating before school. He played against anyone he could get to put skates on. And long after the sun set, I’d hear him outside whacking the puck with an energy that never left him. His enthusiasm finally led us to install outdoor lighting so he could practice longer each night. And the day he played his first college ice hockey game was quite a moment. For him and for me.

It was a season of growth…for both of us. Last weekend, I watched my son play his last home game of his inaugural college ice hockey season. I was a lot more relaxed, there weren’t any tears, but I was still full of admiration for my son and all that he accomplished in making his college ice hockey dream come true.

It just took one dreamer. ”Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.” (Harriet Tubman)

That, and a kick in the pants. Remember: ”Dreams will get you nowhere, a good kick in the pants will take you a long way.” (Baltasar Gracian)

True, for all of us. No matter the dream, no matter the unexpected opportunities you’re blessed with, you can go as far as you need to; as far as you dream to. Supplemented, of course, by the occasional, well-administered kick in the pants.

It’s Why We Play

Date: September 11, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

My first soccer practice as assistant coach to a team of boys under age 6 was a lot like attempting to herd puppies!

But the boys, if smiles, laughs, giggles, wrestling and rough housing are any indication, had a fabulous time! (I’m still not sure how much they learned, but they sure seemed to have a good time.)

I attempted to teach kicking, passing, dribbling, and the game of soccer. They wrestled, rolled in the grass, took a lot of water breaks and rested.

As I walked to my car after an hour of attempting to coach/herd 9 little soccer-playing “puppies,” I had a thought I hadn’t had in over two decades: I don’t think I’m a poor sport, but maybe I’m too competitive to coach children?

“It’s why we play the game. Anything is possible, anything can happen, and we proved that again tonight.” (Casey Korkus)

Dressed To Spectate, But…

Date: September 6, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Coaching is easy. Winning is the hard part.” (Elgin Baylor)

My youngest is playing soccer, for the first time, this fall. It’s something he has been begging to participate in for a couple of years, so we decided to try it this year. As the start of the season approached, I began getting emails from the league, “Your child has been placed on a team. However, we still need a coach, an assistant coach, and a team parent for your child’s team. Please volunteer.”

I confess, I ignored those requests. I was a basketball player; I never played soccer, I knew nothing about the game (other than I think you can’t touch the ball with your hands); not to mention the fact that I work full-time in another city from where the soccer practices and games take place.

As the day of the first game approached, the same emails kept coming. I finally responded with one of my own: “I’ve never played soccer, I know nothing about soccer, but I am willing to coach if you need me to,” thinking surely, one of those dads of the boys on the team would volunteer! I didn’t hear anything back, assumed a dad had stepped forward, and showed up at the first game. Expecting to spectate. To find out…I was the assistant coach!

I was dressed to spectate (in a skirt and flip flops), not coach, but I joined the boys on the field and did the best I could to provide encouragement, direction, to help control a little kindergarten boy-age chaos and propensity to wrestle even when they should be playing soccer and, of course, to learn the rules of the game. (Many thanks to Tyler, a little boy on my team, who coached the assistant coach that first game!)

We all survived the first soccer game. I’m not sure who won (I don’t think we keep score at this young age). I only know several boys on my team, including my son, scored goals; and that we had a very supportive cheerleader, my husband, cheering all of us on and making sure we had plenty of water during the breaks (especially the assistant coach) from the sidelines.

As I walked off the field at the end of the first game, all I could do was shake my head at ANOTHER unexpected adventure…in the unexpected life.

Life is like that, you know.

“Coaching in the NBA is not easy. It’s like a nervous breakdown with a paycheck.” (Pat Williams)

My experience is slightly easier than that, thank goodness! No paycheck, but no breakdowns, either. At least, not during that first game.

More to come.

Stay tuned.

Garden Report 2011

Date: August 29, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

Neighbors have begun sharing the bounty from their gardens. My co-workers are bringing their home-grown produce for lunch. Looks like it’s time for a report on my attempt at gardening this year. (Note the foreshadowing.)

Of the four almost two-year-old fruit trees I began the growing season with…two were chopped down by my youngest and his friend wielding toy swords. The third tree, loaded with approximately 30 little apples when I left on vacation earlier in the summer, was stripped bare 10 days later when I arrived home. (No sign or trace anywhere that there had once been the hope of fruit. I don’t know if little neighbor boys, birds or some other force of nature deserve the credit!) The fourth tree currently has 5 small nectarines clinging to two of its delicate branches; my husband is considering offering our youngest a cash reward if the fruit is allowed to remain there until it ripens!

The surviving peony bush (one of three hauled to Utah in orange Home Depot buckets from my Colorado yard in 2009 and transplanted in my Utah yard shortly after my arrival) still hasn’t bloomed. It has now been two years. I cut it some slack last year, wondering if perhaps it was still in shock at the upheaval and turmoil it had endured (I could SO relate!), but no fluffy pink flowers yet.

Of the flowers purchased by me and my husband at a local nursery earlier this year, the hanging basket (as I reported earlier) died within weeks; the rest were planted in three different pots and placed on the front porch. One pot died within a month, one is half dead, and the last bunch, though struggling terribly, is still hanging on.

Our pumpkin plants grew huge, beautiful leaves and approximately 75 blossoms (more blossoms than I’ve ever seen on anything.) The bounteous green vines are mounding and spreading…yielding, so far, two small light orange pumpkins and one tiny green one!

The zuchini starts we planted never did anything—in fact, they look about the same as when we bought them. The 8 tomato plants are all still alive, although two never blossomed or grew anything, one we harvested 4 small tomatoes from and the rest appear to be loaded with green tomatoes. Of the 6-7 lettuce plants, we made salad out of 3 of them before the rest died.

You know, life is like a garden. Some years, the growing conditions are easy-breezy; other years are more challenging. Some years plants thrive. Some years, not much appears to survive. The point is to keep watering and weeding, acknowledge every bit of growth or progress and to never quit planting. Always make the best of the plot you’re blessed with.

“I want it said of me by those who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow.” (Abraham Lincoln)