Plays, Pirates, Parties, Pizza, Pajamas, Pasta and Potter
As weekends go–and so many do–this one past certainly went. But in a good way. Well, for the most part. For the first time in quite a while the slate was free of obligations, Zane’s flag football season having ended last week.
I would love to say that the season ended high, that the kids had fun and everyone went home having been bettered by the experience. Unfortunately, that is not the case. As so often happens when children play, the coaches and parents of those children, bitter and unfulfilled parents who are trying to re-live their very own youthful days of glory, become the focus of the competition. Friendly competition in a nurturing environment morphs into a pissing match between adults hell bent on proving to the other how big a dick they are.
And our children are the direct beneficiaries of the shining examples.
But like I said, the season is over.
Our weekend was filled with fun and family and a mini homage to the letter P. Specifically, a play, pirates and a party where we enjoyed pizza. We are fortunate to live in a city that has a thriving children’s theater and throughout the year enjoy superb productions of stories familiar to kids presented by talented members of the community. The cast is quite often comprised of area grade and high school children as well as adults.
This weekend we enjoyed an adaptation of David Shannon’s How I Became a Pirate. The kids had a blast dressing up in their pirate garb and watching one of their favorite books come to life before their very eyes. There are many, many joys that come with parenthood but I must admit that there is something magical about captivated attention.
The intensity and eager anticipation of “what’s next?” or “then what happened?” that fills my kids’ faces when engrossed in a story melts me. And it reaffirms my resolve to keep their world exciting. (No pressure)
Party and pizza followed the play as we celebrated birthday number four for the kids’ favorite cousin. (Their favorite cousin is always the one whose birthday is next–in case you were wondering.) Big times with a pirate theme and keeping in line with our theme of P–a pajama party sleepover.
Yesterday we relaxed, napped (the kids were up at 5am from their sleepover!) and consumed copious amounts of Tylenol and Motrin–it would appear that the flu has arrived at Casa de Ed–and rounded out our weekend with a few more Ps: pasta and Potter. Zoë and Zane are tearing through the Harry Potter series and after each book get to watch the corresponding movie. Last night we watched The Goblet of Fire (that’s book 4, right?) I am happy to report that there were no midnight visitors with complaints of nightmares.
So there you have it, a pretty decent weekend with a little help from the letter P.
That whole first paragraph? The reason I am so happy my boys have no interest what so ever in hockey. Here, on the Canadian Prairies, it is almost unheard of for boys not play and many girls play. But the parents, I would have to be restrained I tell you.
It’s just safer this way. For everyone.
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Amazingly, Zane takes the whole thing in stride. Granted, the boy hates to lose, but enjoys playing no matter.
My brother coaches junior rugby and even at the under-eight level that he works with he has problems with parents on the touchline, fortunately he is obtuse enough to ignore them, but many volunteer coaches have come and gone because of the complaints from parents that their children were not enjoying their rugby because they were losing every game, in direct contrast to what the children were actually saying when their parents weren’t stood within earshot.
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I was a volunteer coach by virtue of checking the wrong box when I submitted Zane’s forms to play. I think what a lot of people fail to realize is that even though it is flag football, it’s still a contact sport and there are rules.
Oh and also, these parents probably sucked as players when they were kids just as their kids, try as they may, just aren’t that skilled either. Then again, we are talking about seven and eight year-olds. Zane could easily trip over a penny on the floor much less an slew of would be tacklers.
I was just looking at How I Became a Pirate. I’d like to do that at my theater.
It really was a lot of fun. Couple of things–it helps to know the story because though the play stays pretty true you have to realize they took a 15 minute children’s book and turned it into a one hour play (some liberties were in place) also you need a good cast. Braid Beard’s character was pretty strong which helped. Our version also had quite a bit of singing and though the cast did well, they really weren’t much of a singing group.
Bottom line–the kids had a blast and I suppose that’s what counts.