Monday, November 26, 2012

Coming Soon: Baby McClelland

Good gravy you people made it difficult to hide this for 3 months. Jesse and I will be welcoming our very own offspring into the world in June. See?

Now you've also seen my ovaries and the inside of my uterus.
Consider this my obligatory "announcement." I've decided that the best way to sum up my experiences for the last 3 months is to make a list that breaks down the joy that is the first trimester.

Sara: Hey, you know what sucks? The Wellesley Effect. A phenomenon where women who live in close quarters experience synchronized menstrual cycles. Specifically, it sucks when only one of you gets pregnant. The other one gets to have ghosted symptoms for a good couple of weeks, regardless of the fact they're not even getting a little alien mutant thing out of it. What in the actual fuck, biology?

  1. If you suspect your friend might be pregnant – DON’T ASK FOR THE SAKE OF FUCK. Everyone knows that it's common practice to wait until you’re out of your first trimester to tell everyone because your risk of miscarriage or the baby not having a heartbeat are actually fairly high. It’s, um, awkward to tell everyone you’re pregnant, and then have to tell everyone you’re, uh, not anymore. So if you notice your friend is looking a little bloated, or eating really bland foods, or isn’t drinking beer when she normally would – keep it the fuck to yourself! It’s terrifying when someone asks you in that accusatory tone (like you didn’t do your homework or something), “Are you pregnant?” Holy shit! NO! I’m just REALLY into being the designated driver! Keep. That shit. To yourself.  Stop interrogating me.
  2. Trying to keep it a secret is really hard if you’re a booze-hound like me. As soon as I order a water when I’m at the Diamond Knot – EVERYONE AND THEIR MOM WILL KNOW I’M KNOCKED UP.
  3. Sore boobs. Oh my god. The sore boobs. They have grown 2 cup sizes, and I have suffered. Walking hurts, putting on a bra hurts, moving hurts, looking at and thinking about them hurts.
  4. The fatigue. Here is an example of a typical day - 9am: Why am I so tired? I went to bed at 9pm. That's 12 hours. 2pm: If I don't take a nap, I am going to collapse or puke. 4pm: Wake up from nap, feel slightly rested. And why the fuck did I lay on my stomach because my boobs feel like someone used them as a punching bag while I was alseep. 8pm: Can I go to bed yet? Why do I want to go to bed? 8:45pm: Fuck it, I'm going to sleep. 9am: Wake up and repeat. 
  5. There is no such thing as morning sickness. It’s all day sickness. I spent a lot of time asking myself, “Am I hungry or do I want to barf?” Luckily I never got THAT nauseous. I just felt queasy all the time. It’s like being hung-over; only it lasts for 3 months, and you didn't even get to have any fun the night before.
  6. Pooping. You would miss it, too.
  7. Peeing. I have to every half hour. 
  8. That pregnancy “glow?” It’s caused by excess progesterone, which makes your skin produce more natural oils. Another name for my pregnancy glow is acne. People who lie to you about the joys of pregnancy decided to use the misleading word “glow” instead of “you'll look like you're going through puberty again.
  9. My Mayo Clinic book keeps telling me that I’ll occasionally feel “light cramping.” What they really mean I’ll feel are growing pains. I can literally feel my uterus stretching and migrating. It's as weird as it sounds.
  10. Bloating. Oh, look at my cute little baby bump! Nope, it’s gas, in and around my uterus. Can I fit into these pants today? Probably not because I had broccoli and cabbage with my dinner last night. Right now, at 13 weeks, it's definitely a baby bump - but still subject to gas extension. Awesome, right?
  11. The stuff you're not supposed to eat is ridiculous. - Only one cup of coffee per day. One day, I had a cup of coffee then had a latte later in the afternoon. I know, I'm a monster! -  No deli meat unless you heat it in the microwave until steaming. Gross.  - No smoked or cured meats (smoked salmon, prosciutto, salami, basically anything delicious).  - No soft cheese. I totally ate some brie one night and have put goat cheese in my eggs. Call CPS!  - No more medium rare steaks, make it well done. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to bastardize a beautiful piece of red meat by cooking the pink out of it because ehrmagerd teh baby might not like it!   - No runny egg yolks. What? No fried eggs over-easy? This is offensive and unacceptable. I will NOT be subjected to cooked egg yolks and I WILL have runny egg yolk over my breakfast hash.
So that's it. The first 3 months in all their glory. If you end up having/had a fantastic time during your first trimester, then screw you. 

Thursday, November 1, 2012

The Annual Turkey Shoot Letter

Dear Turkey Shoot coaches and parents,

            It is our distinct pleasure to thank you all for registering for this year’s Turkey Shoot soccer tournament! We are very excited to host one of the largest recreational youth soccer tournaments in the state this year, and we hope you are just as excited to take part. We have been in charge of this tournament for a long time (15+ years!) and we have loved being a part of it each and every year. But before the first games start on the 16th, however, we’d like to call your attention to a few guidelines that will help to keep this tournament running smoothly and efficiently, both this year and in the future.

            You may have noticed during the registration process that your team’s age and gender bracket were missing from the website. That indicates that the bracket is already full and is no longer accepting any more teams’ registrations. That way we can begin scheduling games as quickly as possible. However, many teams signed up for another age or gender bracket instead, thinking that as long as their registration was received, we would schedule accordingly. That is fucking retarded. Seriously. All that does is fuck everything up. We are not goddamn psychics, people. If you sign up your U-15 boys’ team in the U-12 girls’ bracket, we are going to assume that you’re a bunch of 11-year-old girls, because that’s the fucking logical conclusion. Then, when you show up to play a bunch of little girls, we’re going to have you cited for juicing them with steroids until they resemble 14-year-old boys. Then point and laugh at your stupid ass while you walk off the field in shame. Jesus…get your shit together people.

            Don’t bring your dog to the fields. There are no dogs allowed on any of our facilities. We don’t give a single fuck about how well-behaved he is. Leave Fido at home. He’ll be fine for a few hours. Promise.

            If for some reason Lindsay, our beloved tournament director, has decided to make an exception such as…say…opening up registration especially for your team to sign up late because of extenuating circumstances, don’t forget to do it. And if she opens it up a second time…don’t forget to do it then, either. Or the third time. Or even the fourth. And if you have gotten to this point, don’t leave an apologetic voice mail blaming the World Series for your Alzheimer’s symptoms. We’re running a soccer tournament. At least blame the MLS playoffs or something we can relate to. Not something boring like baseball. And you should probably bribe us with beer or something too. Happy tournament officials make a happy tournament.

            Our tournament headquarters are in a trailer behind Kasch field 3 (and now it sounds like we're some sketchy dude with FREE CANDY plastered across his van...we assure you we're not). The trailer is there to house our hardworking administrators, field marshals, and referees. If you would like to report your score directly to headquarters, you may. But that had better be the only reason you open the door of our trailer to let all of the heat out. We don’t want to hear you complain about one of our hard-working, highly trained, and overworked referees. We don’t want to hear all about how the other team is totally a select team (I don’t understand where the fuck this comes from. There’s a conspiracy among select teams to ruin the tournaments of rec players? The Joker’s coaching a select team and just wants to watch Turkey Shoot burn? Seriously. Think before you open your food-hole and vomit words all over our goddamn trailer). We don’t want to hear you complain about your early game. Twenty other teams had to play that morning and they’re not whining like spoiled little brats. Don’t ask if you can have some food. You can’t. Get in, give us your score, compliment the tournament or us (yes, we accept compliments as bribes for more time in the heated trailer. Deal with it), and get the fuck out.

            Seriously, if you bring your mangy mutt to the fields we’re going to dognap it and turn it into a goddamn muff. Well…maybe not. But we’re going to boo you and throw dog shit at you. See how we turned that one around? Don’t fuck with us.

            If you park in an area that is coned off as a no parking area, don’t get your panties in a bunch if our referee assigner Victoria calls you a douchebag. You are one. Deal with it.

            We are always a bit saddened when we have to address this point, but it always seems to be necessary…for the love of God, don’t say something racist to the kids on the other team. You are a parent and a role model for fuck’s sake. What in the actual fuck is so wrong with your brain that you think this is okay? They’re fucking kids, you sick fuck! Be the bigger person, literally and figuratively, and leave your idiotic bigotry at home. We have no need for it.

          We are also generally saddened by grown men who harass 13-year-old referees. Are you fucking kidding me? You're a big man, telling that 13-year-old off. The real reason your team lost the game is not because your referee let the other team push you. For fuck's sake, are you coaching a team of nancys? Soccer is a contact sport, and the reason your team lost is because they have a coach who's more interested in bitching and moaning about how everything is SO unfair - instead of sacking up and actually coaching. They somehow think Lindsay (who is all-knowing and all-powerful during this weekend - basically a demi-god) won't find out. They also think Lindsay won't rip them a new asshole in front of their entire team, citing examples XYZ as to why you're an ass-hat, and then she tells you to get the fuck out of her face - and you DO it, because all you really are is a little bitch. Seriously though, this has happened a few times, and it was as awesome and entertaining to watch as it sounds.

            The tournament’s rules are not the same as seasonal play. Please read your rulebook and note the differences. That's um, why we distribute rule books. If a rule is not to your liking, such as 5 players a side for U-8 games instead of the seasonal 4, shut the fuck up about it. This isn’t the fucking World Cup. We are not attempting to revolutionize the entire game of soccer in order to ruin your child’s youth. We are trying to run a fun and efficient tournament for the community. Before you complain about something as miniscule as this, ask yourself this question: “Is my 7-year-old going to worry more about an extra player on the field, or what mud puddle she’s going to jump into next?” Perspective, people. Get some.


            If you simply pay attention to these guidelines, we should have a fun-filled, smooth, and exciting tournament in a few weeks’ time. We hope you have as much fun participating in the tournament as we have running it. Thank you and we look forward to seeing you all very soon!