Go, Speed Racer!

Even after a full day of watching speedskaters at Sis's first competition, I still can't get over how the skaters tilt so far to one side that they put their hands on the ice and still manage to crossover their feet!  Sis isn't quite at that level--she can crossover but isn't low or titled enough to touch the ice--but she still won a gold in her novice division for girls.  We were all exhausted but proud.

While Sis was racing around the track--three laps in just about a minute for one event!--and cheering on her teammates, Mama and I were volunteering to help the competition go smoothly.  I was in hospitality, helping with feeding about 35 officials and volunteers; Mama worked with the official race steward tallying times and points.    We had breakfast foods, sandwiches, salad, desserts, plus six or seven slow cookers going--soups, chili, stew, and a very popular Slow Cooker Chocolate Souffle--and blew the fuses more than a couple of times.  And lots of coffee!  Because the rink was very cold.  At least the hospitality room was warm.

A few things we learned about skating:

• the Zamboni cleaning is called an "ice cut";
• there is usually a heat box, where you wait--it's good to show up a few heats before your own;
• a cap gun signals the start of the race but a whistle midday signals a stop (in case there is a major injury or false start); a whistle at the end means everyone finished the laps;
• races tend to fall in 111, 333, 555, 777, or 1500 meters--I can't recall the different names for rounds of races of the same length (set, I think, or maybe event);
• results are posted by time, adjusted for any penalties, but awards are given based on points over the whole day;
• the novice category is for any skater who doesn't have a recorded time, including Sis (she stays a novice this season, I believe, but moves up next year);
• while skaters compete by gender for standings and places, they often race in mixed groups (there were more boys than girls, at least 3:1);
• skaters are docked for "impeding" if they get within 1/4" of another skater (I think);
• if skaters are sitting or lying down on the ice for more than 4 secs because of a fall, they are disqualified (not that they'd ever catch up);
• if a skater hits his or her head, they are removed from the rest of the meet as part of the concussion protocol.

Thankfully, there were very few falls and no real injuries.

Sis also picked up some tips from the other skaters--staying warm between races (they essentially where body length swimsuits, which aren't warm, so they wear Uniqlo or Under Armor underneath and wear jackets and blankets around them), staying hydrated between races, wearing goggles to avoid ice spray and chips at the starting line, eating fruit to keep up energy and avoid cramping.  She also showed great sportsmanship when a skater in her race fell and got back up; she checked with him after the end.  She was usually in the back of the pack, sometimes last, sometimes lapped, but she stuck with it, did her best, and left her heart out on the ice.

She had a marvelous time and is jazzed to compete later this season in another competition.  Mama and I are pretty excited, too.

Slow Cooker Chocolate Souffle

Cake

1 box  triple chocolate fudge cake mix

1 1/4cups milk

1/2cup vegetable oil 

3eggs

Topping

1box (4-serving size) instant chocolate pudding and pie filling mix

2 cups milk1bag (12 oz) 

milk chocolate chips (2 cups)

Spray 6-quart slow cooker with cooking spray. In large bowl, beat Cake ingredients with electric mixer as directed on cake mix box. Pour into slow cooker.

In medium bowl, beat pudding mix and 2 cups milk with whisk as directed on box. Pour into slow cooker over cake batter. Do not mix. Sprinkle chocolate chips over top.

Cover; cook on Low heat setting 2 hours 30 minutes to 3 hours or until cake is set and pudding is beginning to bubble out of cake.
adapted from Betty Crocker

Slow Cooker Lava Cake

This one is much sweeter than the one above; I first had it at a friend's party.

1 box triple chocolate fudge cake mix

1 1/2cups water 

1/2cup butter, melted 

2eggs 

1tablespoon vanilla

1box (4-serving size) chocolate instant pudding and pie filling mix

1container whipped milk chocolate frosting

Vanilla ice cream, as desired

Spray 4 1/2-quart slow cooker with baking spray with flour.

In large bowl, beat cake mix, water, melted butter, eggs, vanilla and pudding mix with electric mixer on medium speed until smooth. Pour batter into slow cooker.

Fold frosting into batter in slow cooker with spoon, leaving ribbons of frosting running through batter.

Cover; cook on High heat setting 2 to 3 hours or until cake is set in center. To serve, spoon hot cake from slow cooker, and top with scoops of ice cream.

Adapted from Betty Crocker and Pampered Chef

The Hockey Conundrum

We've been to a few hockey games in the last few weeks.

Mama and I have also had to referee a few disagreements at home.

So when the crowd at the hockey games began cheering on hockey players hammering on each other, "Fight!  Fight!  Fight!", and then they showed fight highlights on the big screen, I leaned over to the kids, "If you try that at home, we won't be cheering."

They were very confused that hockey players were not only allowed but encouraged to slug each other.  "Why do they need to hit, Mom?"

There's no simple answer for that, is there?    Men out of control?  Gladiator/hockey enforcer sports culture?  The love of violence in America?  Brain damage?

None of those would fly at our house.

Ice, Ice Baby

After Sis had so much fun at an ice-skating birthday party, we offered her the opportunity to take real lessons. She already takes gymnastics, but only once a week; this would give her another sport--and she's so strong (and the fastest runner in her class) that she'll probably be really good at skating.  At least it is fun and different (very different from me; lest I forget that the Northeast is a different culture from the Texas one I grew up in, I just need to look at ice skating and hockey and horseback riding/equestrian not rodeo to remember that it's not just the accents and foods that are different.)  We signed her up this morning and she'll start next week.  She'll get her skates from the rink, rental, and will wear a coat, bicycle helmet, and mittens for warmth and protection.  She's very excited.  Last night she even dressed up her doll Felicity in her ice skates and outfit.  And then, of course, there will be the Winter Olympics in Sochi, Russia, with lots of ice skating.

Our First Hockey Game

"Punch him!  Punch him!  The fights are the best part!"

We went to our first hockey game recently, with the tickets the kiddos won at Bingo Night in December.  And it was certainly entertaining.

The game was good, too.

The 10-year-old behind us liked fighting.  He liked it more than the game.  And rooted for it constantly.  More than he paid attention to the game.

His parents thought he was so cute.  "Oh," his mom tittered, "we should have taken him to boxing!"

"That's right, son," said dad proudly.

Thankfully, my kids didn't hear him at all.  They did notice the fighting, helmets and fists flying, especially because it made the highlights reel all three times.  They were upset by it. Confused, they asked why we didn't stand and clap like those around us.  "I can't clap for violence," I said, having just purchased a fundraising green and white "Angels of Newtown" bracelet.

It seems naive, but I have been so much more aware recently of how violence is very ingrained in the American psyche and culture and has been for hundreds of years:  the slaughter of Native Americans by colonists and later by cowboys; the Salem witch trials and various colonial tortures; tar and feather, burning in effigy, lynching; "meet me at the backstop after school;" the love of boxing and wild west shoot-outs and yes, hockey fights; the preponderance of guns; wars and weapons of mass destruction; our preference for punitive prison sentences and the death penalty; our pop culture obsession with violent epsiodes and people--Charles Manson comes to mind first--even the "true crime" section of the bookstore; the love of violent video games and horror movies; domestic abuse; gang warfare; the Steubenville rape; school shootings and mass murderers; "Law and Order," "CSI," "The Sopranos," "Dexter," in addition to the rarity of pacifists like conscientious objectors, Quakers, the Amish.  I'm sure there's more I could list.   We might like Mom, apple pie, and baseball, but you have to add violence.  And in that, we are different from most industrialized nations.  It's not that they don't have guns and we do, it's that we want our guns desperately and they don't as much.  And that speaks to something in our culture that all the post-Newtown commentary and Steubenville coverage that I've read hasn't really pinpointed.

But I could clap for almost everything else--the elementary-school students singing the national anthem, the fuzzy blue mascot waving the team flag, the "peanuts" playing hockey in the period breaks, the pop musical breaks between play, the way Bud danced and cheered, the return of the team after the breaks, the kids playing the karaoke game, the soldier in uniform who won a free dinner, to win a t-shirt in the t-shirt toss, and the shots on goal and the goals our team scored.  And when we won.

Sometimes I had a hard time following the game--it's like soccer at the speed of basketball with something smaller than a tennis ball.  It looked messy.  Which could have been me or them.  But the speed more than made up for my lack of knowledge in creating excitement.

I didn't cheer for one of my favorite parts, though:  the delicious garlic fries, cheese fries, and hot churros.

And I didn't cheer like the boy behind us.

But I would go back to another hockey game.

Nothin' But Net

Basketball has been the game of choice for the last few weeks, with Bud roaming from neighbor to neighbor to play with others' balls and baskets.  Neighbor Boy insists, "My house, my rules," which annoys Sis, who then won't play.  Bud has talked basketball with Pop, who played in high school and even went to the Dr. Pepper tournament, and with Mama, who played on a team that came in second in her league; even their current babysitter M is on her school team and will play ball on scholarship in college.  We all watched some NCAA on tv during lunch out.

On Sunday, after church, haircuts, and lunch, Bud wanted to play basketball.  Mama and I looked at each other and she made a turn to the stores.  We had been planning on buying a hoop anyway so Bud could play with Pop over spring break, and it was a gorgeous day.  So yesterday found us buying youth-sized balls (standard brown, purple, and primary!) and a stand-alone hoop for younger people (net from 5.5-7.5').

Mama erected the stand and backboard while Sis colored in chalk and rode her bike and Bud practiced dribbling.  Finally, we could  play (It.  Takes.  So.  Long.)  Mama and Bud took turns shooting and then Bud and I "played."  We were the Penguins against the Snakes and I kept up a running commentary on our games, as best as I could (it's been a long time since I've watched basketball).  "Swoosh," driving to the basket, rebound, lay ups, three-pointers, "nothin' but net."  He thought it was great.  They even went outside early to play before the bus arrived (and the bus arrived just before Neighbor Boy headed over to play.  Sigh).  

I like it because with the basket at about 6.5', I can slam dunk!

Not Live Blogging the Super Bowl

We watched the last 30-minute pre-game show of the Super Bowl and Bud was full of questions: Who is in yellow? What's the red team? Is that blue dot the middle of the field (where Faith Hill sang)? What team is in blue (the choir behind her)? What are those numbers for (yardlines)? Are the soldiers going to play music? What's a coin toss? When are they going to play?

And I tried to answer every question. "Honey, those people aren't players they work on an airplane. They were heroes." But it was through tears. Because I'm a terribly sentimental person when it comes to ceremony, display, tradition, schlock. And I always cry at the presentation of teams, singing of the National Anthem, airplane flyover, even the coin toss. Luckily, Buddy has a cold and was doing his own sniffling and didn't notice mine. Mama did and she always gives me a pat.

Bud and I saw the kickoff--he is rooting for the red team because he likes the color and was happy to know they were birds ("what's a Steeler?"). Sis liked the red team too, at least when she looked up from her Richard Scarry book. She actually missed kickoff, preferring to bathe instead.

By the time we had them tucked in less than 30 minutes later, the Steelers were ahead 10-0 (now I think it's 10-7--I can't find any video streaming so am not watching it downstairs). Gonna be a long night for the red birds.

The Vet and the Athlete

The themes of the last several days, in addition to birthday and food, have been animals and sports. Sis's world revolves around animals, wild and domesticated, while Buddy is obsessed with sports, moving beyond his usual baseball fanaticism to embrace football and soccer too.

As part of their birthday celebration weekend, Mama took Friday off and we went to the zoo to see the special bird show. Sis was so excited to see live scarlet macaws, owls, and especially the singing parrot, who can perfectly imitate "Old MacDonald." Now, Sis imitates the parrot singing, with a funny way of saying "ei-ei-o." If you live in CT, definitely catch the bird show at the zoo; it's worth it. But it was Bud who was brave enough to give the raven a donation. Sis just watched. And Mama and I wore the little rubber bracelets with "Fly Free" on them. We also saw our usual tour--wolves, tigers, rainforest, otters, etc.--but this time the Andean bears were actually awake! I think that's a first in three years of going! Of course, the best part, as usual, was riding the carousel, which Sis did 3 times and Bud did 1. She gets very excited about which animals she rides, choosing the zebra, gorilla, and panda this time. She noticed that the panda was holding something. "Bamboo," Mama explained. She said she thought it was holding a whistle. And it does sorta look like that.

We picked up Goo after a car nap and went straight for lunch at a Tex-Mex place that Sis has now dubbed the "chip restaurant." She loved the crispy tortilla chips and Bud actually liked the spicy salsa. Then she inhaled some chicken fingers while he ate a whole plate of rice and beans, leaving quesadillas untouched. We treated ourselves to ice cream afterwards, receiving balloons for their birthdays. She got chocolate with M&Ms and he got strawberry with mini gummies. Mama got a special Pina Colada ice and I got tamarind ice, which was wonderfully sweet and sour. No one else wanted any so I got the whole thing to myself. We spent the rest of the day playing outside in the playhouse from Gommie and Pop and in the little pool. Buddy insisted on playing pretend baseball, where we pretend to throw the ball and he pretends to bat and then runs the pretend bases in a homerun. At least there are no balls to chase!

The birthday party was all animals. And Sis loved it. Bud had a good time, but it was Sis who was really in her element (which is fine; he liked last year's outside bubble party much more than she did). They both liked having the undivided attention of Goo and our babysitter, who came to help and help celebrate. (this made it so much easier to set up and talk to the people running the birthday). They got to pet bunnies, a guinea pig, a dove, and snakes. Yay, snakes. Sis was probably the most intrigued--I'm not even sure how many of the other kids touched the animals, though I'm assured by the moms that they had a good time--she even lay on the floor face-to-face through the cage with the guinea pig. The staff of the nature center were impressed by her rapport with them. Sis loves animals. She had, coincidentally, received a play vet kit from us for her birthday. And she proceeded to examine all of her stuffies, finding "wrinkly paws," other ills, and just pets who needed checkups. Even when she played explorer with the kit she got (or was it for Buddy? Sometimes the lines get blurred after the fact), she was looking to rescue animals. No wonder she selected Diego, the Animal Rescuer, as her theme for plates and napkins. And the animal cupcakes--with these wonderful photo transfers of various woodland critters (thanks, T!)--were for her.

Buddy had chosen baseball plates and napkins and had "Yankee symbol" cupcakes. He was so excited to see them! He spent the weekend, when we weren't at the zoo or the nature center looking at animals, or eating Tex-Mex, birthday cakes (including one from Junior's from Goo!!), and ice cream, trying to corral us to play sports with him. We played real and pretend baseball. And then we added other sports because he got this Diego sports pack for his birthday complete with little football and soccer ball (plus bat, baseballs, and glove). So he donned his new Yankees shirt, played baseball, and then switched to football, which he played with Mama and Sis at church. He has even got a good spiral on his pretty accurate throws. And he's slept with that football the last three nights! Mama suggested we get him an orange and white football while we're in Texas. I don't think Uncle Soccer would quite approve. Especially because I suggested we should substitute that for the ring pillow! But hopefully, they can play sports together. Buddy has even picked up on his new uncle's favorite sport, having watched some women's soccer (USA vs Brazil) with us. We ran around the living room trying to kick it under the coffee table, shouting "Goal!" everytime we did. He likes the celebration--running around for his homeruns and dancing with his arms up when he catches a pass are an important part of his game. We'll have to look into going to some local games (though, we did record the home run derby for him tonight, too).

So, a vet and an athlete. Not a bad way to spend a third birthday. They've even decided that those are what they want to be for Halloween. It's easier than a jaguar costume!