There will be days like this

There will be those days...when nothing seems to go right, nothing pleases anyone, and ultimately you feel like a failure.  We've all had them, and there will be many more to come.  On these days every single choice you make will inevitably lead to tears, from the underwear you choose for him to wear when he gets out of the shower to the 14 shirts he refuses to put on.  Someone will lose their only pair of shoes 5 minutes after you were supposed to walk out the door.  Your hair won't look good, because you chose to curl it on the most humid day of the year. Your white pants will get stained by the hands that found the chocolate cookie they lost in the back seat last week.  They will leave their lunch money on the table or in the car seat on the day when you have a million errands to run, and there is no cash left on the account.  And the plans you all decided on and were so excited about last night, will become the worst idea on earth in at least one of their minds.  There will be plenty of tears shed.  Explicatives will be said.  Frustration will explode into yelling, and you will question why you even try.  This will result in an immense amount of guilt, but remember, you're not a failure. 

There's a choice to be made in this situation.  Do you find the shoes and show up to church 10 minutes late?  Do you go forward with the plans to go to the zoo and pray you don't lose custody by the end of the day? Or do you change your plans altogether?  You could just stay home, go to the park, hang out and watch a movie.  Lots of choices.

Today, I had this day.  The moment my daughter stepped in the car, there was nothing but tension, and I saw it coming as soon as I pulled in her sight of the car ride line.  "Ugh.....hi mom" she began.  "Hey sweetie! How was your day?" "Whatever, I hate that song, and you sound like crap.  Change it."  All I could think was Damn, what did Ido this time? Truth is, I existed.  I had no idea, but I knew there was no fixing it.  I've come to the realization that there is no solution for this attitude.  I've also stopped negotiating with terrorism.  When you want to join the rest of the collective world and be nice, come on.  Until then, you can sulk, complain, be a recluse, nap, whatever.  I'll love you from a distance, fix you a nice tasty dinner, and wait for you to come around.  She emerged with a better attitude after dinner with a hug to say thank you for your patience. 

Patience is all I have to offer these days, and in so many ways, I've mastered the art.  The kids don't want to go do what we had planned? Fine and good.  We shuffle, rearrange, postpone, cancel, whatever it takes.  I've learned to pick my battles. Pick out your own clothes, and I will pray you don't look homeless.  Fix your own hair, and I will pray we don't look like a Hot Topic ad.  I buy the candy on the way in the store so there's no meltdown at the counter.  Sometimes we eat dessert before dinner, and some nights I prepare 4 different meals.  If they're pitching a fit in the back seat, I just tune it out.  Y'all want to fight? Duke it out.  I'm not intervening until there's blood.

I've come to several conclusions....

Your kids are going to hate you at some point. They will.  They'll probably even tell you about it in great detail, but they'll definately show you.  You know what this means? You're doing your job!  You're not allowing them to just do whatever they want.  You're demanding respect.  You're teaching them integrity. Keep it up.

You will be stupid from the time the kids are about 10 years old until they're 19. Just brace yourself.  You're shaping up to be the biggest idiot on this planet. Want to know why? Because again you're not allowing them to just do whatever they want.  People have to learn the hard way.  She loves that guy, and he would never treat her badly.  You saying so is only going to make you dumber, but when he hurts her, it's your job to pick her back up, dust her off and dry her tears.  Just know that by the time they get about 21, you'll be back to a normal human, and they may even admit that you know what? They may even admit you were right a time or two. 

There will be days when you feel completely defeated.  It is what it is.  Some days are not salvagable.  It's on these days, you cry in the shower and pray for better days ahead.  Stop feeling guilty!  An amazing friend managed to call right in the middle of my pity party yesterday.  He said "Liz, you know what you need to do? Shut the f#ck up. Get over it b#tch! You're a mom.  You do the best you can, and they know it.  They know you love them.  Stop stressing over it."  Holy crap! Did that ever put me in my place?!  He was right.  Since when did parenting come with a manual? Never.  There's no right or wrong answers sometimes.  Sure, it's wrong to beat your kids. Yes, it's right to love them. But there are seriously some gray areas.  The uncharted territories of parenting have left me baffled so many tiems, I've lost count.  Just do the best you can.  You win some battles. You lose others.  The good Lord knows you're trying, and as long as they know you love them, you're good. 

They always come home. No matter where those tiny humans go in life, no matter what they grow to be, they'll always come home.  When they're hungry, when they have no money, a place to stay,  failed marriages, dropped out of college, whatever, they know you love them. It may take them a few years to see where they've gone wrong, but when they do, they'll knock on your door. We all did it.  Hated to admit I was wrong, but I sure asked if I could come home....more than once. Just wait for it. 

Do me a favor. Do what my friend told me to do.  Go look in the mirror.  Ask yourself "what do I see?"  What do you see?  When I looked in that mirror, I had tear stains on my cheeks. My nose was red from crying, and my eyes were puffy.  But, I saw a fighter.  I saw a woman with so many scars, but those scars are the road map of the journey I've been on.  The best part of that journey? I've never quit.  I may change directions a million times. I may go in circles now and then, but I get up every single day and fight.  Hell, I may fight the same demons from yesterday, last week, last month or last year, but I continue to fight them none the less.  We don't quit.  We don't give up.  We are parents.  This is war, and we are in it to win it.  Many nights we come home and lay our armor down and crumble to the floor.  It takes courage to get back up, but we get back up.  Like I said, there will be tears.  There will be swearing.  Sometimes your kid's being an asshole.  Sometimes, they need to hear that they're being an inconsiderate asshole.  You don't give up on that kid though.  You teach them to be a decent human, and you love them no matter what. 

The Legacy

Do you ever wonder what you will leave behind in this world?  What will your spouse remember most about you? What stories will the tiny humans share with their friends and loved ones long after you've gone? Maybe it's morbid, but I wonder sometimes.  I don't have to question what my ex would say.  That will be nothing short of "She was a piece of sh#t, who hated her kids, horrible wife...." blah blah blah. I'd like to believe we'd be mature enough at that point to tell the stories of the good times we shared as a family, but I won't hold my breath. 

I don't care to have fame and fortune.  Honestly, money does not hold much weight with me.  It's great to have don't get me wrong, but if that's all you have, you're seriously lacking.  Material possessions are just that, possessions. In the blink of an eye they can be gone, so they're just not that valuable.  I want to leave amazing memories. 

I want my children to look at photos of me and think Mom really knew how to have fun. She was awesome. She could always make us laugh, and no matter how bad things got, she still smiled. My children have seen me cry too many tears, but in my darkest hour, I give my all to make them laugh.  I hope they remember all the craft projects we worked on.  Memories of going puddle jumping should race through their minds when it rains.  When they see a pair of converse, I want them to remember those as my favorite pair of shoes.  A million images flash through my head when I think of them, and I pray that's the same for them.  Yes, they will recall the times that were not so pleasant.  They will inevitably remember the time I called them an asshole, because quite frankly, they needed to know they were being one.  But, what else will come to mind?

As I sit here sifting through the past in my mind, I know there are so many hilarious stories they will tell about me.  I know this, because it's left an impression now.  Several years ago, my oldest son kept asking why I always made him take his teacher flowers.  "Why do we always have to do this?!" I explained to him in depth how when you go to meet a girl, you never show up empty handed...ever.  I don't care what you take her- flowers, chocolate, wine, beer, gum, a pogo stick, just take something that says hey I thought enough about our meeting to bring you a gift. That doesn't just hold for girls.  Dinner invitations, grandparents, whatever, if you're going to meet someone, take them something. Back on track, he still to this day remembers that lesson.  I hear him telling the Angry German sometimes "You gotta take that girl something and tell her she's beautiful."  It makes me smile.

The Angry German also has stories to tell, even now at 3 years old.  I gave him a kiss one day, and he got WAY too into it.  I expected a peck from a 2 year old! I pulled back and said "Geez! Don't get wierd on me!"  To this day, he thinks it's hilarious to ask me for a kiss and tell me not to get wierd. 

On our way to school, I always try to play fun music to brighten the kids day, and lately it's been a challenge to get any form of emotion from my daughter in the mornings.  This morning showed me she's been paying attention to my techniques.  I was cruising along, almost as if I'd given up on the quest of making them laugh, and she started dancing funny, poking me, and making crazy faces.  I couldn't help but laugh.  She was doing exactly what I do for her. 

I hope someday to meet someone that I will share my life with, and I often ponder what he will think.  I heard once that the greatest pain you'll ever feel is in the moment just between sleep and awake when you reach over and touch the empty pillow where the love of your life used to rest.  Altho I remember being lonely so many nights, I don't have this recollection, because once the ex and I separated, I never slept in that bed again.  Never slept in that house again.  So, that memory isn't there.  Will the man I marry feel this pain? Will he refuse to wash my pillow, so my scent stays forever?  Will he redecorate the house?  Sell all my crap and move on with his life?  I wonder sometimes. 

I can only hope that whomever I settle with...if I ever settle again, will have thousands of pictures of us together, adventures, travel, special moments, quirky days with nothing to do.  I would like to be remembered fondly.

The few things I do know that will be recalled about me.  No one will ever be able to say I turned my back on them.  I don't care how much resentment and bitterness our relationship turned into, there's not a soul on this planet that can say I refused to pick up the phone.  I have extended an ear to people I've dated because they had no one else.  I've hugged past friends that had done me wrong.  I have toasted the good times, that I don't remember fondly. I have sat in hospital rooms with people I knew despised me, cooked their meals and read stories them, because I knew no one else had the time.  I never asked for anything in return. Hell, I'd go bail my ex out of jail if he needed me. He'd hear about it,  and I'd probably take a selfie with him for later laughs,  but I'd go. It's who I am.

Those around me know that I love my children beyond measure.  I would do anything for them, and I do not consider money in this equation.  Affection cannot and should not be purchased.  But, everyone close to me knows, they come first.  I'm not the type to hire sitters constantly. I'm not afraid to haul all 4 together out in public to run around.  They are what keeps me from coming unglued. 

I've tried to make a point of letting those around me know that I care.  If tomorrow never comes, I hope that each will know how I felt, the fun times we shared, and how precious you are.  There are those in my life that I no longer have contact with for various reasons, but in the times we did share, I still remember the joy.  I don't like holding onto bitterness.  Live and let die, but leave a legacy when you go.

I plan to leave that legacy. I have thousands of pictures, good, bad,  ugly,  fat,  thin,  etc, and all for my children to cherish. I did not destroy the pictures from my past. They have a box of photographs from when we were a family. I have no intentions of cutting holes in their memories. I want my children to know,  mom loved us. We never had to question that. Mom did the best she could. She shielded us from a much pain as possible. She was honest, even when it hurt. She chose to steer us in the right direction, but it was up to us to take it. And,  she supported our decisions even if she didn't agree. We could tell her anything,  and there would be no judgments. If we were scared,  she'd turn the light on. If we needed a hug,  she knew before we asked,  and she never turned her back on us, even after we hurt her. No matter how hot or tired she was,  we went to the park to run. It didn't matter if she was thin or fat,  she came swimming. She stood for what she believed in and encouraged us to do the same. Mom was crazy and wild,  but she was loving and kind. Mom was there even if we couldn't see her. She was only a phone call away. Mom really did love us,  with everything she had. She wasn't perfect, she was perfect imperfection, and she was perfect for us.

A tall glass of organized chaos with a shot of humor on the side, cause we're all in this together

Crazy things start to happen when you become a parent.  You lose your sanity one day at a time.  It begins with the lack of sleep over the first few months, and continues into the lack of memory that goes on for years.  Privacy becomes a thing of the past.  You'll shower, poop, dress, cook, clean, and everything in between with an audience.  Your perfectly clean and organized home suddenly has tiny handprints on the doors and windows.  You will inevitably find a petrified chicken nugget at least once at the bottom of the toybox, which will inspire you to purchase the small bins and ditch the giant box that leads to the abyss.   Sippy cups seemingly disappear without a trace, only to be found a week or so later with a mystery substance chunked up to the side. You won't wash these, because the only safe place for this toxic sludge is the trash. 

You will be peed on, pooped on and puked on so many times you'll lose count.   You'll find yourself sniffing butts without shame and at least once, you'll pull the back of a diaper out, and your finger will immerge with crap on it.   If you're one of the lucky ones, your kid will poop in your hand as you're wiping his rear end.  The words I'm done!! will become your pager with the interpretation every parent knows means come wipe my butt!!.  Isn't parenting fun?

I'm not stranger to any of these scenarios.  With 4 kids, I've experienced it all, from the neighbors being greeted by your 3 year old with "Look, I peeing on the tree!" to carrying naked Barbies through Target every day of my life.10 years ago if you told me I'd use the phrase "don't lick that" and "where are your pants" in the same conversation, I'd for certain wonder if you had gone mad.  Now,  that's an every day kind of conversation. 

"Don't eat the dogs food!"
"Oh for the love of sweet tea, did you just sniff your finger after you scratched your crack?"
"There's not farting in the kitchen!"
"We don't touch another human!"
"Don't step on your brother's head!"
"Why is there peanut butter on the tv?"

These are just a few of the random things you'll hear on a weekly basis.  One of our neighbors once told me, every day they would make up a new rule in their house.  It would be off the wall crazy too, like "today kids, there will be no streaking through the backyard under any circumstances."  When asked why this became a tradition, he was honest. At some point you're going to have to address that situation, and you at least need them to know it's not ok.  It was a couple years before I had to have this conversation, and all I could think was dear God, he was right!

I'm good with it though.  I've had to explain some of the most bizarre situations. I've been asked some of the worst questions.  I could do like some parents and sugar coat the hell out of it or avoid the answer all together, but I choose not to.  They'll have enough to figure out on their own. I will give them the scoop on whatever I can to pave that road a little smoother.  So when someone gets into my car and makes a comment about the "stuff" that's in it, just know, if we are ever stranded in my vehicle, we will never starve, freeze, or be bored.  There will be a half empty juice pouch somewhere under a seat, at least 6 weird toys to play with, and several articles of clothing, maybe even a few shoes.  You will find fries somewhere and at least 86 cents in change.  If you're lucky, a lighter, a random phone charger and all the mail you can imagine. 

Being a parent requires a sense of humor. If you don't have one, I can assure you, it will be the longest few decades of your life.  You'll need to cope with the fact that getting the kids in the car sometimes takes longer than the errand itself.  The entire store will turn to stare and probably not ask if you or the kids are ok when one dumps your shopping cart over, and the woman your child asks why she's so fat will be offended, and there's no explanation you can give.  When you slip and say "Holy shit, I'm so fucking sorry" in front of a kid, they will repeat it...in context...in a room full of people.  Someone will get the raging poopins in public at least once. It might even be you.  The kids will discover mom's box of tampons, and trust me all you can do is laugh when they play rockets in the back yard with them.  Maxi pads look just like diapers, and it doubles as a sticker.  Bless your heart the first time you get walked in on while putting one of these products to use.  That'll be a fun conversation, but you'll laugh about it later on. 

I've learned to roll with the punches and smile and the bizarre looks we get.  I think more parents should give a high fives and fist bumps to their fellow comerades on a job well done when we diffuse a tantrum in the store and escape with our dignity.  I do not criticize other moms and dads on their parenting skills and methods any more.  I've reached the point in my life that if the bubble gum shuts them up, we buy it!

So cheers to the next sports season, where we will all put thousands of miles on our vehicles trekking between ball fields, rotating games to see all the kids in a weekend, the hundreds of dollars we will waste on junk they don't need but will keep them entertained, and random rule we will each have to create, just because it'll come into play someday.  Let's all have fun, and someone please share your story with me so I know we're in this together. 

The best I never had

I absolutely love scrolling through facebook and reading all the little ecards about how he's going to realize one day, you were the best he ever had.  Really?  Let's be brutally honest here... have you ever had anyone see this, let alone share this reality with you?  Come on now.  Only once has anyone ever called to share his regrets of moving on.  Once.  Take a wild guess as to what his motive behind the words were.  Yes, you guessed it.  He merely wanted between my sheets, not the pages of my heart. 

Men don't call you up months after a breakup and tell  you how amazing you were.  They don't suddenly come to some epiphany  that they let the greatest thing in the world slip right through their grasp.  Maybe I'm missing something, but that's not how it works.  If you were the best thing he ever had, he'd still have you.  If he loved you that much, no lame excuse, stupid reasoning or massonistic misunderstanding would've stood in the way.  He would've seen past all the flaws, accepted every failure, and forgiven every mistake. 

Go with me on this, but I have a slight opinion about why these little quotes exist.  Is it at all possible that that's just what we want him/her to think?  It's possible that he may see someday that no one has ever loved him quite like you did.  No one has ever made him feel that same way.  There may be an ounce of regret, but he isn't going to share that with the class.  And should he decide it's a good idea to let you in on this, I pray this is the moment you realize your worth.  You're better than that, and he should've seen it back then. I'm not saying don't give second chances, because we all need one now and then. What I'm saying is if he's willing to let you go, break your heart, cause that kind of pain, consider what the second go round will be like.  I stand on my little soap box and preach about never giving second chances, and I don't.  I make sure to give about 8 or 9 just to make sure it was a bad idea, but I'm learning that with each new opportunity I give someone, it only makes me more bitter towards them.  There's less attachement.  I feel less.  I don't let them in anymore.  Who does that benefit?  If you can't give your all, why give any?

We all have the what if, the unicorn, the one that got away in our past.  I have one too.  We had a chemistry that was undeniable to anyone in the room with us.  We were amazing.  We loved so deeply, but should he call today and swear I was the best he never had, please let's try again, I would say no.  A rekindled flame is like left over chinese- it's still got some flavor, but the rice will never be the same.  We won't have that kind of love again, and I know it.  No matter how much I may think it feels good,  in the back of my mind I will always be waiting for the next reason to let me go.  I'm better than that.  I'm worth more than that, and had he seen my worth, he wouldn't have let me go in the first place.  So no, no one will ever love him the way I did.  No one will ever replace me, because there's only one of me, but I'll have to be the what if in his mind too. 

Oh dear daughters, if he sees that you are the best he's ever had, he never would've stepped out. He never would've insulted your intelligence by lying to you.  He wouldn't need a lame excuse to say maybe we can try this again later.  If you wait until he's ready you'll be waiting for the rest of your life.  It's now or never.  Either see my value and hold on for dear life, or let me go. 

Please Lord if I fail in every aspect of parenting, please let me instill into my children their value, self worth and independence.  I pray they hear me when I say this life is far too short to be anything but happy.  If it's not fulfilling your purpose in life, move on. Be the best he or she never had, but don't be naive enough to think they're ever going to tell you that. 

A light in a dark place

For someone who's seen their fair share of heartache, it's instinctual to find something to hope for.  It's like the brightest star in the sky that we wish on as kids.  It becomes the focal point that's unwaivering.  We all need this, and it can be anything.  I have found solace in the simplest of things- a smile from a stranger when all I wanted to do was break down,  a quote on pinterest that just seemed to speak right to my soul, or a gentle reminder from a friend that no matter what life throws at me, it'll be ok. 

What I didn't realize was that during my struggles,  I was somehow the focal point for someone else not to give up.  Seeing me pick myself up day after day and deal with each obstacle, sometimes 10 at a time, was their reason to be strong and perservere.  With each post to my blog that somehow emptied my heart and made room for the next battle, she was watching.  She was waiting and reading for the next set of words that could give her courage to continue silently. 

I have never aspired to be a hero.  Up until last week, I couldn't imagine that anyone would look to me for words of wisdom. What did I know?  So many days I see myself as more of a screw up than an example.  But, here I was, in the spotlight.  I struggle to understand how I could help anyone. I don't have money to give, but I do have an experience, a testimony.  It tugs at my heartstrings to think someone else in this world is going through similar situations.  I know there are those who have much worse situations than mine, but I wouldn't wish the pain I've experienced on my worst enemy, certainly not on anyone I care about. 

I attended a church service recently with a friend, and the pastor spoke about being an advocate.  I have always wanted to join some sort of group and help give back to the community, to teach my tiny humans to help others, and bring hope and beauty to the world around me.  I didn't see until now that sharing my story was in a small way, just that.  I have known for so long that my children are watching me.  As they grow, I want them to remember the mother that would never succumb to the struggles.  I will never quit. I am determined to show them that no matter what this life throws at me, I can overcome. 

About 5 years ago, a very dear friend's husband took his own life.  I remember hearing the news, the look on her face, the heartbreak in her voice.  I can recall wondering how it got so bad that he would do such a thing.  How could he leave his family?  How could he be so careless? I hear people say suicide is the coward's way out. Ah, maybe so, but to me, it takes one hell of a nerve to pull that trigger.  How far backed into a corner do you have to be to feel there's no way out other than death?  I'm so thankful I have never been that low.  I have been extremely down,  seen some very dark days, but I am no quitter. Taking your own life doesn't take away the pain.  It hands it to someone else.  Someone else gets to pick up the pieces you leave behind.  Your loved ones get to try to make sense of your chaos. I will never leave that burden for another.  I want to be the reason someone looks in the mirror and decides to try one more day.

Life is beautiful.  You just have to know where to look. It's in the stars that no one ever stops to look up at,  the rustle of the leaves on a crisp fall morning, the clouds rolling overhead.  There is peace if you can quiet the noise.  Sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel really is the train, but not always.  If it is, duck.  Dodge it or roll with it to the next station.  You never know...struggles are the good Lord's way of leading you to something better.  Don't ever give up.  Don't ever let this life make you feel worthless.  We are all perfect in our imperfections, and whether you see it or not, someone is watching you.  Someone loves you.  There is at least one person that wants to see you succeed when it seems everyone is determined to watch your failure.  When you trip and fall, take a moment to look at the sky.  It's magnificent.  Smile with your shortcomings.  Laugh at your blunders. Find joy in your habits. Most of all find peace in your heart. 

Competing for the Crown

Have you ever seen those parents that seem to force their children to be better than everyone else's? They cheer the loudest at every game.  They stand right behind home plate coaching every move.  Don't get me wrong,  I love my kids, and I will cheer so loudly when they do something great.  But really, what are you proving when you are constantly in their ear? It's the same as micromanaging.  You're making them feel inferior, as if they can't quite get it right.  Why not just let them do it?

Over the years I've noticed my ex's family do these things, and recently I read an article about the narcisstic parent.  It was as if every word was describing them.  From the way they coach at a ball game, to the way they convince my children the worst hair cut possible is great, it was them.

The past few months I have noticed an increasing tendancy for my daughter to say that she is stupid or ugly.  Words like that bother me and confuse me.  I tell her she's beautiful all the time.  I make sure to emphasize that beauty doesn't come in a size, it's in the heart.  I can't count how many times I've told her that her attitude is the most important thing in beauty.  The prettiest face can be ruined by an ugly demeanor.  The perfect body can be stained by a disrespectful and hateful heart.  People may love to look at you all day long, but if when you open your mouth no one can stand you, there's  a serious problem. 

It breaks my heart to hear her say she is an idiot.  She's the most brilliant child I know. How is it possible for her to feel stupid?  I am constantly reminding her that we are all humans. We won't get it right the first time, and if we do it was sheer luck.  Life will be full of mistakes.  You just brush the dirt off when you fall down and keep moving. 

I am convinced that the style of parenting happening on the other end of the spectrum is what's fueling these insecurities.  Children should be taught to be comfortable in their own skin.  Stop pointing out what they're doing wrong and let them have fun.  They're going to strike out a few times.  My choice of words fall along the lines of "that's ok, we'll get another chance in a few."  The words coming from behind home plate are more like "you're still dropping that shoulder. You just need to watch the ball a little harder."  It's nothing short of infureating.  I just want to scream sometimes.  While you're over here trying to create the perfect ball player, you're missing the fact that IT'S JUST A GAME!! It's supposed to be fun, and if they can't even enjoy it for fear of making a mistake, then I don't want them to play.  The point of sports at this age is to teach the kids to work together.  It's about team building skills and social interaction. We're not training an Olympian.

I don't want my children to feel the pressure that they've got to be a certain way.  I felt it my entire life, and years of therapy and self discovery only showed me that dropping the dead weight of expectations was the BEST thing I could've done.  Not everyone is going to make all A's in school.  Not everyone is musically inclined. Brace yourselves for what I'm about to say. Not every child is athletic. (Something tells me my ex and his family read this blog, and I am imagining the look of OMG who farted?! because I just wrote that. But it is true.) I emphasize every single day to my tiny humans to enbrace who they are.  There will inevitably be someone who criticizes their choices. Why worry about it?  If you're thin, they'll say you've got an eating disorder. If you're overweight, you must be depressed.  If you're hair isn't perfect one day, you're letting yourself go. Jesus, just do what you want and be comfortable in your skin. You're going to be in it for a while. 

As for the parents, if you see yourself as this type of parent, know the rest of us cringe when we see you coming.  I'm not saying lower your standards.  Raise the bar, by all means, but find a new way to go about it.  If you can hit the ball out of the park, don't sit behind the plate shouting strategies as to how they can.  Sit down, shut up, cheer the team on, and let them be kids.