Bend It Like Beckham...Or Something Like That

So, I know this kid.

I am a huge fan of his. HUGE, I tell you.

And on Saturday I witnessed something completely awesome and educational: his first soccer game.


Noah "David Beckham" Rymer, the first one in line, warming up for his soccer debut.

Now let's back up a minute. Oklahomans are not known for their soccer skills. Instead, we pride ourselves on football and football. Case in point: I was once on a soccer team called "The Huggabunches." And I wore a pink t-shirt and black shorts and soccer shoes and barely made it through one game before I realized that running that much was overrated and I would much rather be a cheerleader.

However, Colorado is a different place. We wear Birkenstocks. We don't fry all of our vegetables (darn it). We hike...or at least some do. And here, "football" actually refers to the game of soccer.

So, when Noah decided to join a soccer team, I realized that this Soccer Aunt was going to have to learn a few things in order to keep up with the current trends of Colorado kindergartners.

However, after approximately 7.3 seconds into the game, I realized that there isn't a tremendous amount of skill or strategy that is needed, per say. Rather, the goal is to find the ball and kick it. And kick it in the direction of a goal. Hopefully your own goal, but whatev.

While watching the game, I also noticed a variety of other things that were happening simultaneously on the field. Such as:

Kicking dirt

Falling down because it seemed cool

Pulling your jersey over your head while you are supposed to be tending the goal

Yelling to your parents (or grandparents) on the sideline

Running over to your parents (or grandparents) on the sideline to ask for a snack

Crying

Jumping

Pointing

Clapping

Singing

Staring off into space

And so on...

Of course there was a lot of kicking and running going on as well.

And even though no one was "technically" keeping score, Noah's team totally won 4-1. And Noah did an awesome job for his first game. Once, he yelled at us as he was running by, "hey, did you guys see my kick?" Of course we did. It was the best kick of the day.

So the first game was a complete success, dirt-kicking and all. Seriously, I am so proud of this kid. And I look forward to many more "football" games in our future.

Top Ten: Things I Love About Spring

I love spring almost as much as I love summer. So in honor of this oh-so anticipated season, here are a few things that I adore about this time of year.

1. Tulips. Love them. LOVE. THEM. If you are planning on asking me on a date, you should show up with tulips. That will pretty much guarantee you a second date...unless you say something totally ridiculous like "I just want you to know that you aren't the only fish in the sea. I mean, I am dating other people." No lie. That happened on a first date. Unfortunately.

2. Longer days. Seriously, longer days are so glorious. My bed still has a magnetic force over me in the mornings but the longer evenings make up for it.

3. Carrot cake. I know you can eat this anytime of the year, but doesn't spring just scream "sweeten up some vegetables and cover them in cream cheese frosting?" I am thinking  yes, yes it does.

4. Budding trees. I love budding trees, especially the ones that are white and pink. If you are allergic to these, I am really sorry.

5. Espadrilles. The mere selection of shoes out there this time of year is almost overwhelming. Almost.

6. Better movie selections. Lately, there have been some real bombs out in the movies. But thankfully, the closer we get to summer, the better the movies will become. At this point, anything will be better than Red Riding Hood. ANYTHING.

7. Easter candy. Reece's peanut butter eggs complete me.

8. Memorial Day Weekend. These three days are the gateway to summer and the only day off I get between President's Day and the 4th of July.

9. Outdoor BBQs. There is nothing better than the smell of BBQ. If you plan on having one this weekend, or any weekend, just let me know. I'll come right over. And I'll even bring a dessert.

10. Flip flops. I could live in these sucker year-round if it weren't for that fact that I live in Colorado and they are not helpful when you are shoveling your sidewalk.

So, what are some of your faves? Or are you wanting another round of snow?

Driving Range Woes

Thank you all for your encouragement and support regarding my Ambien-filled collision with Claire's closet. You will be happy to know that I am now functional again and have seemed to tame the beast that is Daylight Savings. Unfortunately, Claire may still be a bit traumatized. Poor thing.

So how was your weekend? It is SPRING, peeps! Doesn't that make you happy? I finally feel like I can wear wedge sandals again. My shoe choice just exploded with possibilities.

On Saturday a few friends and I went to the driving range. I love the driving range. And do you know why? It's because you don't keep score. That's right. It doesn't matter at all. And this is especially beneficial for a girl who quite frequently hits her ball into another fairway. Apparently other golfers don't appreciate this.  Snobs.

On this particular Saturday, my friends and I decided to place a little wager on who could hit the most consistent drives. This is not one of my strong suites because of my general lack of talent. However, I was game because the loser had to buy ice cream. And I wouldn't even know myself if I turned down ice cream.

So we set up our tees and started swinging. We were all doing amazingly well, hitting them consistently past yard markers and impressing ourselves with how much we had improved over the winter months of absolutely zero practice. But the longer we kept going, the more the pressure mounted.

Oh, the pressure. I almost couldn't stand it, I tell you.

Every time you got up to hit, you could just feel yourself thinking, "relax your arms, bend your knees, shift your weight, don't lift your foot, move your hips, don't move your head, don't close eyes, please God let me make contact, follow through, look for your ball, dance around like a lunatic and taunt the next person up."

Or something like that.

This went on for quite a few hits. Like I said, we were extremely impressive.

For the next drive, I tee'd up my ball and began to get into position. And it was at that exact moment that my friends began to tell me all the things wrong with my swing.

"Sarah, you shake your booty when you swing. I don't think that's normal."

"You are too far away from the ball, Rymer. Scoot up."

"Your club head is too open, close it up so the ball doesn't hit one of the cars in the parking lot."

"Yeah, my car. Don't hit my car."

I think I need new friends.

So I lined up, blocked them out of my mind, tried not to think about the tornadic winds that had picked up and threatened to throw my ball back into my face, relaxed my shoulders and swung.

The rush of the wind and the smoothness of my swing were magical. And then I looked for my ball...it had literally dribbled off of the tee. I could have thrown it further.

And with that, I lost.

Who in the world even invented such a stupid game? I mean, seriously. And don't get me started on ice cream now. Even though I lack almost all forms of natural skills and ability, I am blaming my friends. And the wind. And my pink golf club.

My Run-In with the Closet

So my battle with Daylight Savings Time is still going strong. And I am sad to say that I appear to be losing.

Who knew one stupid little hour could cause me to look and feel like a train wreck? And don't get me started on my work productivity. I feel like some college student who stayed out all night partying and stumbles into work with twigs in their hair. Sometimes I just catch myself staring at my computer screen and there are literally ZERO thoughts that go through my mind while I do it. I don't think that is normal.

SIDE NOTE: People, I didn't have the energy to party like that in college so trying to do that at 31 is almost physically impossible. And thankfully I haven't found any twigs in my hair...yet.

The other night I went to bed early to try to balance out my wonky sleep schedule. By 12:30 I was still wide awake. So I did what I never, ever do unless I am traveling: I took an Ambien. Oh glorious Ambien. I love them so much.

So I popped the sucker in and swallowed it down and just sat there waiting for it to take effect. I texted Claire, who was just on the other side of my apartment, to let her know that I had just swallowed a pill that has been known to dramatically alter my speech and agility. Besides, I always feel like it is a good idea to tell someone when you take narcotics.

She hollered back to say she was still awake so I walked across the living room to her bedroom and crawled in bed with her. We talked about the streetlight outside of her window, our desire for new wardrobes and boys. Actually, it was mostly about boys.

After about 20 minutes I began to notice that my body had suddenly become extremely light and aerodynamic. Also my speech had become a bit slurred, the tell-tale sign of the Ambien working its magic. So Claire prodded my shoulder and said "It's hit. Get up. Go back to your room. Otherwise I'll go sleep in your bed."

SIDE NOTE: After 27 years of being sisters, we have realized that we are much better friends if we do NOT share a bedroom or a bathroom. This discovery has been life-changing for both of us.

So I obeyed. And because I felt so light and aerodynamic, I threw off the covers and launched myself onto the floor where I immediately walked straight into her closet.

Not one of my finer moments.

Claire just sat there and said "Where did you go?"

Apparently I mumbled something about having too much momentum and fought my way out of a row of hangers. Claire then proceeded to fish me out of her closet and walk me back to my room, which I have ZERO recollection of doing. She said that I walked really fast and almost ran into our couch but at the last moment I swerved and somehow ended up in my bed. It's a minor miracle, my friends.

And for this very reason, I never take an Ambien on airplanes because who knows what kind of closet I could fall into or who would fish me out it. It really isn't worth that kind of international embarrassment.

So all of this to say, I am a bit sluggish. How about you?

Mixed Signals

Dear Daylight Savings,

I don't really know how to say this so I am just going to say it: I am getting mixed signals from you.

Now I know we have only known each other for about 24 hours, but I am so confused. On the one hand you promise longer days and warmer evenings which prompt me to go to the driving range, take a long walk after dinner, sit on the porch and watch the sunset and soak in every minute of sunshine you offer. It is glorious, really. You go above and beyond and I want you to know that I notice.

On the other hand, your mornings are like a cold slap in the face at 0-dark hundred hours. What are you doing to me?  At first I just blamed my alarm clock, thinking it had become demon-possessed during the middle of the night and decided to go off when it was still very dark out side. Dark as in "it is the middle of the night and NO HUMAN SHOULD EVEN THINK ABOUT BEING UP." But then I looked at my clock and it said something ridiculous, like "6:30."

I am at a loss for words. I am not sure where to go from here. I am not sure where WE go from here.

Do you see what I am talking about? Do you see how my life has literally been turned upside down by your presence in the last day? You tempt, you tease, you flirt and then WHAM! Sucker punch to the head.

I'm over it. Seriously.

Go away.

...

No wait.

Come back.

I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I think I am just reacting from my brutal wake-up call.

I need you. My evenings need you. My psyche needs you.

Please don't go. Maybe I am the one that is confused. It's not you, it's me.

...

Just try not to beat me up in the mornings. Pretty please? Thank you.


Your friend,
The FC

Waiting

I am in a season of waiting. Have you been there?

It is a very specific, very intentional season. A season that God has ordained and inspired and has walked me through, step by step.

Sometimes I hate this season. I want to run away, do things on my own, fight, yell, kick and pout. But in the end, God gently pulls me back to this safe, familiar, oh-so comforting yet refining place that I know is exactly where I need to be.

Waiting is not easy.

Waiting is not painless

Waiting takes self-control and trust and faith and hope in His promises.

Waiting is hard work.

But the things He has taught me have taken my breath away. Time and again, He takes my breath away.




A few days ago my dear friend sent me this video. She had not known that God was walking me through a period of waiting yet knew that this video was something I would love.


So, I thought I would share it with you. No matter what you are waiting for, these are good words to hear.

Enjoy.

Tap Dancing Fool

Did you know that I have always dreamed of being a tap dancer?

No? 

Well it is totally true. I have always dreamed of being a tap dancer.

Since I grew up in rural Oklahoma and decided to dedicate my life (i.e. one lesson) to baton twirling, I had to forgo my desire to be the next Fred Astaire and pursue the glamorous world of flinging metal bars into the air. However, I quickly learned the error of my ways and pined away for the day I could actually learn how to dance.

Well, that day finally came. After years of waiting, anticipating, dreaming, it was finally here. I was going to learn to tap dance.

 I was 27.

Along with two other friends, I signed up at the local community college for an 8-week course in tap dancing. Since I am so naturally gifted in coordination and agility (read: sarcasm) I figured I would pass this class with flying colors.

On the first day, with my extremely cheap Amazon-purchased shoes in tow and my favorite pair of black stretchy pants, I entered the room with a level of excitement that can only be rivaled when you discover a box of left-over Valentine's Day candy in the middle of March. Not that I can speak from experience, of course.

However this excitement immediately turned to dread when I noticed that the entire room was covered in mirrors. And nothing spells "healthy self-esteem" like watching your adult self try to tap dance in stretchy pants from every single angle. It was was all kinds of awkward awesomeness.

But I was living the dream. I couldn't look back now. I had finally arrived.

And then the teacher came in. She was cute, perky, in amazing shape with big, blond beautiful hair, and she actually knew how to tap dance. She was everything I wasn't. I both admired and loathed her. It was love/hate right off the bat.

So I went to work. I tried to talk my feet into doing things they had never done before, like just barely hover above the ground and tap at the speed of light. I also attempted, quite beautifully I might add, several hops, skips and jumps that were spectacular to behold. I twirled, clapped, spun, leaped, tapped, tapped and tapped until I was fairly certain I was the best tap dancer my teacher had ever seen.

And then she said something like "you need to work on your form and timing and agility and coordination and rhythm and stamina and overall ability to walk and talk."

Not exactly star student material.

But I didn't give up. I moved these routines into my parents' living room where they sat there in both awe and hysteria as I did my best to convince them that I did have talent and they had denied me the opportunity to use my raw gift for the past 27 years. They agreed that my talent was indeed raw.

Eight weeks flew by and it became blatantly obvious that my definition of "talent" was much different than my teacher's.  But what did she know? I was fairly certain that her leotard had cut off the blood supply to her head. However, I finished the class and completed an entire routine. It was a minor miracle, my friends!

Looking back I realize that I lived out my dream of becoming a tap dancer. I loved it! It was everything I thought it would be except 100,000 times harder. And it felt even better to be able to cross it off of my life list!

So, what is something you have always wanted to do?

The Wide, Wide World of Apps

I have been submersed in the iPhone world for approximately six days now and I seriously don't know how I lived without this amazing gadget.

Seriously. It is amazing. And you all know me, I barely know how to turn on a microwave let alone wield the power of a hand-held super computer that continues to boggle my mind.

What is also fun is that several of my friends and my big bro also got iPhones this past week. It must be contagious or something. And in the process of trying not to hang up on people with my ginormous cheek, I have discovered some fabulous apps along with their help.

1. Dragon Dictation - there are no words for how cool this is! It allows you to speak into your phone and it types it out for you and then you can send it in a text, email or post it on Facebook. It makes my driving much less scary.

2. Bump - I still don't understand how this works but all you do is bump your phone with another iPhone and they automatically sync with each other and you now have their contact information. Crazy, wicked cool. And also a little creepy, I'm not going to lie.

3. Angry Birds - Who knew a game about pigs, birds and slingshots could be so fun? And addicting? And ridiculous? I have to pace myself with this otherwise I could easily become a hermit. And that really isn't good for my social life.

4. RunPee - Okay peeps, stand back. This app is hilarious and oh-so practical. Have you ever needed to go to the bathroom during a movie? Well this app lets you know exactly the best time to go and then gives you a summary of what you missed. Brilliant.

5. Urbanspoon - If you love food like I do, this is a must-have. It gives you all the restaurants in any given area and gives you the ratings and menus for each. And it sorts it by cost, location and cuisine. It makes me hungry just thinking about it.

Okay, so there are a few of mine. You probably know all about these and think I must have lived under a rock for the past few years. Well you know what? I did. So there.

So, what are some of your favorites? And I'll be honest, I am really trying to only get the free ones. I feel like once I open the flood gates to the $1.99 apps, I will have to declare bankruptcy by Easter.

Ode to Melanie

I have this friend. Her name is Melanie. She is fun and sassy and smart and goofy and awesome in every way.

Here are a few things you should know about her:
1. She plays a mean hand of blackjack. Seriously, that girl has some skill.

2. She is a terrific cook yet has been known to eat cereal with me for dinner.

3. She is the best landlord you could ever ask for. E-VER.

4. She is thoughtful and kind and lets me shop in her jewelry box.

5. She did a great job at picking out her bridesmaid dresses. BIG POINTS for this one.

6. Her love for chocolate cake has seen no rival.

7. She has a girl dog named Darcy...as in Mr. Darcy. *Sigh.*

8. I have never seen a husband more joyous at seeing his wife than hers.

9. She bought me Peanut Butter Haagen Dazs. There are no words for this.

10. She knows how to be a friend for life. And I am so thankful for that.

Happy Friday, Mel! Go eat some cake for me. :)

The Coolest I Have Ever Been

Hello world. Here I am! And happy March to you!

I know I have been a bit absent lately. Actually more scattered than anything else. And do you know why? I will tell you why. It is because my schedule has LITERALLY EXPLODED all over my face. It isn't pretty, folks. Not at all.

However, things are looking up, at least for the next few days. And when you throw in 60-degree weather, I am practically walking on sunshine.

As you could probably tell, my trip to Oklahoma was wonderful and different. Wonderful because I got to hang with the cousins, get dating tips from my Aunt Marge and eat my weight in Velveeta, but different in the fact that the patriarch and rock of our family is now dancing around with Jesus. Oh, I miss him. More than I ever thought I would. But when I walked into his house and saw his cane resting against the wall, I knew that he wouldn't want to come back even if he could. It is a bittersweet tension that will only be resolved when I see him again. And I can't wait for that day.

When I got home my sister immediately came down with bronchitis and borderline pneumonia, or as I like to call it: the plague of hacking up lungs. My poor, poor seester. I am praying she bounces back soon, it is no fun to have lungs that don't work.

This weekend was also the Oscars. Did you watch it? Did you die of boredom? Thankfully I attended a fabulous Oscar party with appetizers, cocktail attire and a random Chinese delivery guy who showed up with crab wontons. It was a stellar evening and I got to bust out the purple dress that I wore this past summer. I am in love with that purple dress. And between James Franco's stupor, Anne Hathaway's seven dress changes and plethora of pretentious pomp and pageantry (say that 5 times real fast), it was an Oscars worth making fun of...which we did.

Two nights ago I had the privilege of giving lecture over Isaiah 45. Have you read it? You totally should. Not only does it talk about some pagan Persian warrior named Cyrus who saves the Israelites from exile, it also talks about God's sovereignty over all things. I mean every itty, bitty thing. I love it, especially when you look at the world. It's nice to know Someone is in charge.

In  less eternal news, I hit a bucket of balls at the driving range yesterday with Lizz. And I am here to report that I am just as bad as I was last year, if not worse. I am blaming my sore shoulders but when you almost hit yourself in the face with a golf ball you know you have some practice to do.

And finally, and perhaps least importantly, I am now the proud owner of an iPhone. I can't even believe I am typing this out because I am a technological kindergartner and the power of this thing completely overwhelms me.

SIDE NOTE: I think I may actually be a technological pre-schooler because Noah tells me to look things up on Google and YouTube all the time. That little punk.

Anyway, I feel like I may be the coolest I have ever been right now because I have a phone that was made after 2005. And I am not going to lie, it is a pretty great feeling. Who knew coolness could be bought? My new goal is to create my own FC App so all four of you can now be in constant contact with my daily ramblings. Don't tell me you're not excited about that prospect.

So on that note, I hope your Wednesday is spectacular and full of the wonder of modern connectivity!