'Till next year, soccer. We'll miss you (sorta)

Soccer ended on Saturday with a parents-vs.-kids game.

Here's four of the 3-year-old teams. There are two more teams not represented. All of these kids were on the field, against me and maybe half a dozen parents. No wonder we got our butts kicked.

I played my heart out at the game. I even (accidentally) kicked the ball into a small child's head. But the kids were too much for us old and tired parents. We didn't actually keep score, but believe me - we lost. Too much running back and forth; not enough caffeine.

But the kids didn't care one bit about who won the game. They didn't even care all that much about the pizza party in the church hall after the game. What did they care about? Trophies!

Clair's like, "I don't have a trophy to lift, so I'll just lift my shirt!"

Three of our teammates missed the last game, and one, Milly, had to leave right after the game for a birthday party. So our team photo looks pretty sad. Expect for Hugo, who looks like the happiest kid ever.

Coach Davis and his family. (Look, my boys are actually smiling!)

Clair was a good soccer sister and supported her family by accessorizing and being super cute.

Soccer balls -- in the hair! Boo-ya!

Go team!

This girl is great at kicking the soccer ball and running around and being energetic. I can't wait until she can play!

I have to say, Lester and I have both been somewhat eager to get through the season so that we could have our Tuesday evenings and Saturday mornings free for awhile -- at least until after the holidays, when we plan to find new things for them to do to keep their little minds and bodies engaged.

We're contemplating swimming lessons in February for the whole family and music classes for Clair on Sunday mornings before church (Sundays in 2014 are going to be crazy long days) and there's always Science Alive on Saturday mornings at the Masonville Cove. The one on Jan. 4th is about worms; I can't wait for that one, since we never did "dig for earthworms after a good rain," per the boys' synapse checklist.

But, honestly, "free time" might just be going the way of the rotary phone. Our weekends are already filling up with friends' events and school activities and work obligations and holiday preparations and library visits and on and on and on.

We learned on Sunday that there are all sorts of great ways to get involved in our new church (something we both really want to do), but most of the activities/classes/ministries meet on weeknights, of course.

And I also have started a list of things to accomplish over the next several weeks (including gather a ton of stuff for Freecycle; sort through the kids' clothes; come up with a reasonable Christmas shopping list and budget, etc.) and every time I turn around, I'm adding something to it.

So, the soccer season has ended, but our calendar is not really all that empty.

But that's OK. The family that runs ragged together stays together, right? The good news is, we're all having a lot of fun. And if I said all this hustle-bustle was a 100-percent drag, I'd be exaggerating by about 90-percent.

I enjoy our busy lives, and doing things with and for my kids. And in this season of gratitude, I'm incredibly grateful that we get this time together. 

Go Team Davis!

Getting little pieces of myself back, 3 years later

Having children is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

But it also is the hardest. There are many, many reasons why -- some of which I discuss (ad nauseam, some of you probably say) on this blog.

One hard thing that I realized just recently, though, is just how thoroughly having children disrupts one's routines and habits, making room for the wants and needs of the little people you've created. This is not a complaint; it's just the way it is.

But just in the last few months or so, glory be, I see little pieces of the old me coming back.

For example, after I had twin boys, I somehow lost the ability to make my bed every morning. I'd make it sometimes, but not everyday. And this was a cause of stress for me. I like having a made bed. I like the way it makes even a cluttered room seem more orderly, and I feel like I sleep better getting into a bed that's been made, as opposed to one that sat all day, bedclothes in a heap, pillows flattened, sheets getting cold.

Then, before I could get back my bed-making groove, I got pregnant with Clair. So add in being pregnant, tired, wrangling toddlers, working, stressed, etc. etc., and the bed became collateral damage yet again. (I can't tell you how much it annoyed me -- and also how it somehow made me less tidy about the rest of the room too, which just compounded my annoyance and stress.)

But as of late, I have been getting up and making the bed first thing, just like I used to do before I had kids. I don't recall making a conscious decision to get back into it. I just got up one day, made the bed, and I've been making it ever since. Just like that.

My old DNA, buried under my new Mommy DNA -- and my new normal life of busy-ness and kids and schedule-juggling -- fought its way to the surface. It was a hard-fought, 3 year-long battle, but the Tanika who makes her bed every morning emerged victorious! And guess what? My bedroom is just a smidge tidier now too! Hooray!

Another casualty of having kids that has come back? Flossing!

Seriously, people. I cannot even tell you how far down on the list of priorities flossing dropped after having kids. It was like my brain could not make space for even those two small minutes -- in the morning or at night. Or ever, frankly.

But, as with my bed-making mojo, sometime recently I started flossing again every day! I don't know what prompted me to pick up the flosser -- but boy am I glad I did. I feel so much better about myself! Cheeeeeese!

I am getting this down in print for two reasons:

1) To give myself hope that more of myself will emerge over time. I love the new Mommy me. But after having kids, you do mourn a bit for your old life, or at least certain pieces of it. People who say they don't mourn are lying -- or droids. So it's nice to see these small slivers of the old me coming back so naturally, without a major declaration or a whole lot of effort. I guess this is just how long it takes to get back to the old normal.

2) To let other Moms and women-who-will-one-day-be-Moms know that this happened to me. In case anyone else is mourning pieces of her old self, know that it gets better.Whether it's big things like your career ambition or sex drive or body image (still working on that one, folks!) or little things like flossing or finding one ounce of yourself to even try to care about that pile of mail that keeps growing and growing in that basket over there. (You know the one I'm talking about.)

You can come back! You will come back! Maybe not all of the old you --and certainly not all of your old life -- but give yourself some time, ladies. And cut yourself some slack.

 *Now, if only the old Tanika who took her birth control pills RELIGIOUSLY, like clockwork, every single day would come back. That woman, if you're listening, way down deep under all the new junk I've acquired? Come out, come out wherever you are! Or I'll have to replace you with IUD Tanika. And I hear that chick is no joke.