Category / middle school

by Kelly Mattei

Someone On Your List Wants Barbie™ x Stanley Quenchers

Someone on your list wants Barbie x Stanley Quenchers. Now there’s a collaboration with the Barbie brand, celebrating 65 years of Barbie! Barbie x Stanley! These are hot items this holiday season! See all eight variations here. This is a great opportunity to get the perfect gift for the people on your list who love Barbie, or Stanley, or both! Get them before they’re gone! Use your Amazon Prime membership for free shipping!

  • Stanley x Barbie™ Icon 40 Oz Quencher Icon is the key word here, because this one is iconic! This beauty features the iconic Barbie logo in…you guessed it…pink! This 40-oz Quencher is priced at $60 and makes a great gift! Get it here.

  • Stanley X Barbie™ ’60s Twist ’N Turn Quencher 40 Oz With a soft, sorbet gradient and tangerine lid and straw combo, this vibrant Barbie Quencher captures the movement that made the Twist ‘N Turn Barbie doll so striking! Great colors and great for the Barbie collector too! Get it here.

  • Stanley x Barbie™ ’80s Rockers Quencher 40 Oz Inspired by the Barbie and the Rockers dolls, the Rockers Quencher features bright, retro graphics that are ready to rock. In a new wave style that is quintessentially Barbie, this unstoppable Quencher is born to lead. Purchase here.

  • Stanley x Barbie™ ’70s Superstar Quencher 40 Oz The hot pink and purple gradient of the Superstar Quencher is all about glitz and glam. A pattern of gold, dainty stars echo the sparkle and star-shaped stand of the Superstar Barbie doll. Purchase here.

  • Stanley x Barbie™ ’80s Western Ken Quencher 40 Oz Lasso your own Western Ken Quencher in a Midnight-black. With a print that mimics the contrast stitching and silver buckle showcased on the Western Ken doll, stand tall — adventure’s calling. Purchase here.

  • Stanley x Barbie™ ’80s Dynamite Quencher 40 Oz Rich colors, gold accents and disco lights of the Dynamite Quencher celebrate the first Black Barbie doll. Iconic in every way, the Dynamite Barbie doll debuted in a vibrant red bodysuit and wrap skirt with glamorous jewelry and star quality poses to shine. Purchase here.

  • Stanley x Barbie™ ’80s Rockers Quencher 40 Oz Inspired by the Barbie and the Rockers dolls, the Rockers Quencher features bright, retro graphics that are ready to rock. In a new wave style that is quintessentially Barbie, this unstoppable Quencher is born to lead. Purchase here.

  • Stanley x Barbie™ Icon 30 Oz Quencher The Barbie Icon Quenchers arrive in a bright pop of Barbie pink to celebrate shining bright together and creating limitless possibilities for all. This one holds 10 few ounces than the others, so it’s easier to carry and costs less! Purchase here.

These won’t last long! Take advantage of this opportunity to make lots of people on your list happy. Granddaughters? Check! Daughters? Check! Cousins? Friends? Moms? Check..check…and CHECK!

HAPPY SHOPPING!

by Kelly Mattei

Now That Our Kids Are Grown(ish)…

Now that our kids are grown(ish)…

Do you look back and think how silly and unimportant some things were? I do. I do it all the time. There were so many things we thought were life-altering, but they just weren’t. When a friend with a 3rd-grade child said to me recently, “I was horrified that my child didn’t turn in her homework,” I responded, “Really? It doesn’t matter.” When another friend said, “My child doesn’t want to play any organized sports,” I responded the same way.

Don’t get me wrong. I think all kids should play a team sport at least once. It teaches them a lot, but that’s all the preaching I will do on that.

As for the forgotten homework in 3rd grade? A few years down the line, I know it didn’t matter, and hopefully, other moms will see it really didn’t matter for their kids either. I wish I had been able to look at my daughter when she was that age and had forgotten to bring a book home and say, “Honey. It’s OK. I promise it’s not a big deal.” Even if I did say it, the hard part was getting her to realize it too. As long as it’s not a habit, I truly believe it’s not a big deal. Educators might disagree, but whatever.

I was not one who ever knew much about our daughter’s homework. When she was in 3rd grade, another parent asked me, “Is your daughter ready for the Bunnicula test?” I must have looked at her like she had fourteen eyes. “The what?” “The Bunnicula test!” I promise I asked, in less nice terms, “What the heck is a bunnicula??” The other mom informed me it was the book they had been reading for school. I laughed and said, “Oh, honey, I have no idea what she’s reading.” The only thing that might have made that scene better is if I’d been wearing a colorful caftan while smoking a cigarette with one hand and holding a martini in the other…you know, like moms in the 1970s. I might have, inadvertently, hurt that mom’s feelings, but it was the truth. I didn’t keep up with my child’s homework. That was her job. I did, however, go back to the school one time (OK, more than once) to get something she had forgotten. The teachers preached against that, but they didn’t have to see my child stress over it. Plus, if I forgot something somewhere, I could drive myself to get it. She couldn’t, so I took her. Yep, I was that mom. I didn’t want to deal with the stress of listening to my child stress out over it, so I took her back to get the book. And you know what? I would do it again, if only so I could have a peaceful evening at home. But in the overall scheme of things? That book didn’t matter one bit. And that assignment really didn’t either. As long as she wasn’t falling behind in school and wasn’t making a habit of forgetting things, it really didn’t matter.

I know. All parents do things differently. Some are trying to make sure their kids are headed for Ivy League colleges, as I learned quickly when my child entered middle school in sixth grade. At the parents’ meeting at the beginning of the year, lots of parents asked about which math track their kids needed to be on. Others asked about the best “science track” and which classes counted as academic classes and which ones didn’t. I wasn’t one of those. I always just believed she would fall into the right “math track” or “science track” for her, so I wasn’t one of the moms asking those questions. At that meeting, I was one of the moms in the back row trying really hard to stifle an uncontrollable giggle about something a science teacher said…a double entendre she didn’t realize was a double entendre, and the fact that she didn’t realize it made it even funnier to me. I think it was something on a graph, and she called it a “g-spot.” I literally had to walk outside and compose myself. But I knew I had found a kindred spirit among the parents when the middle school admin team was talking about school sports and a mom raised her hand with a question. “Do y’all have a laundry service for the uniforms after games?” I had to peek around heads to see who had asked, because I wanted that mom to be my friend! I didn’t care about the math track and science track! That would work itself out. I wanted to know about the laundry service! Alas, there was no laundry service. In hindsight, I should have invited that mom over to drink wine and do laundry with me. It’s OK, though, because our kids are at the same university, so we can get together on campus for drinks and not even have to worry about laundry!

It’s not all about school, though. Parents worry about sleeping babies and overstimulation. As for worrying about sleeping, I did my fair share of that…not so much worrying about our daughter as I was worried about me. I had a livewire on my hands! She was busy from the time she emerged from the womb and didn’t want to miss a thing! It nearly killed me. I had that baby girl/toddler/small child who would not take a nap. Yeah, she slept at night but not excessively long. I heard people talk about how they trained their babies to sleep 16 or 17 hours a day. I should have just handed them mine so they could see what life with her looked like! And when she started moving around, there was no sitting still…ever. In fact, she still doesn’t sit still for long, and she’s almost 21! I think some kids are just born sleepers and some aren’t. Don’t try to argue with me. You won’t win that argument. Later, I was glad she didn’t sleep during the day or need lots of nap time, because we could just keep moving all day…and we did! Looking back on that now, none of it really mattered in the long run. It was all just a blip on the radar of life.

Growing/raising a child has taught me a lot, and one thing it taught me is that lots of issues are simple blips on the radar of life. It’s sometimes difficult to remember that as something is happening, but it’s true. Yes, there are big problems in life, but a third grader not turning in an assignment is not one of them. Not completing the summer reading isn’t a big deal, either. I look back on how those stupid summer reading assignments ruined parts of summer, and it still makes me a little angry. I felt like the stupid summer reading was an intrusion on my time with my child, and in hindsight, I truly wish I hadn’t made her do it. I wish I had told her not to worry about it, because in the overall scheme of life, it wasn’t going to matter. I wish I had told her to enjoy the long, fun days of summer.

However, I let the summer reading assignments get to me (and her), so I’m telling y’all now:

Enjoy the long, fun days of summer together with your children.

by Kelly Mattei

Youngest in the Grade

Youngest in the grade.

My daughter just turned 20 a few days ago. She’s a sophomore in college, living her best life. My husband and I traveled to her university to celebrate her, and a good time was had by all! In fact, we are still enjoying our time with her and her friends! It did, however, make me think about how fortunate she is that she will turn 21 at the beginning of her junior year in college. She is definitely not the youngest in her class, and believe me when I say I tried to design it that way.

I was one of the youngest in my grade growing up. I wasn’t the youngest, but with a late May birthday, I definitely wasn’t one of the older ones. Add in the fact that I was short with a round little face, so I looked even younger. I was among the last in my grade to get my driver’s license, and then, in college, I was one of the last of my friends to turn 21…after the end of my junior year of college!

Some of you who didn’t experience that might not think it matters. Maybe it didn’t matter at all to some of you when you were growing up. It mattered to me. I hated that I was among the last in my grade to get my driver’s license, and in college, I especially hated that I was among the last of my friends to turn 21. It mattered…a lot. It mattered so much to me, in fact, that I literally had a countdown from my 20th birthday to my 21st. I could tell you exactly how many days, hours, and minutes it was until my birthday. Yes, I would actually say things to my friends like, “I will be 21 in exactly 163 days, 7 hours, and 22 minutes.” Annoying? I’m sure. Weird? Probably. But I wanted to be 21.

It makes me wonder about the kids who skip grades. I’m not condemning that concept, so don’t come at me. I will fight back, you know. Personally, for me, it would have been a terrible thing to be the youngest among my “peers,” especially if I were a year younger! Lots of people in college don’t want to be the one who can’t go to the bar when everyone else can. I have a friend whose daughter is the youngest in her friend group, and when Taylor Swift was in Nashville, the daughter was one week shy of her 21st birthday. All her friends were in Nashville and able to go out to bars, but she couldn’t go to all of them. She could go to the 18+ or 19+ bars, but not the real bars. She felt left out of the fun.

When I was a little girl, in first and second grade, it was recommended that I skip a grade. My mother, in her wisdom, refused. She would point out how small I was. And she would also say, “She does not need to be behind the curve socially. No, she’s staying where she is.” She was wise. No, I’m not saying you are unwise if you let your kid skip a grade. You do you. I am saying I definitely would not have been socially ready for college a year earlier. I will say I see a lot of great athletes who are young in their grade at school and could have been even greater athletes if they’d had another year to grow. My child was eligible to go to kindergarten in North Carolina in 2008, but I wanted her to do a year of transitional kindergarten. I didn’t want her to be the youngest in the grade. I wanted her to have the most athletic opportunities she could have, if she wanted them (she did). I wanted her to be among the first to get her driver’s license, and among the first to turn 21 in college.

By giving my girl an October birthday, I ensured that she will be among the first to turn 21 in her class in college. She has thanked me many times for it. My husband and I were thrilled that she was among the first to turn 16, because it meant she would be responsible for driving herself, instead of being dependent on other teens. We trusted her driving, because we taught her, and we made her have double the number of practice driving hours required by the state of North Carolina to get her license. With 120 practice hours, she was a fairly experienced driver for a 16-yr-old.

So now I’m wishing a belated Happy Birthday to our 20-yr-old! That sounds weird to say. She will be 21 in 350-something days.

***I’m not an educator. I’m not a psychologist. I’m not qualified in any way to say whose kid should start school when. I’m a mom and a person who turned 16 and 21 after all her friends. I’m not offering parenting advice or educational advice in any way, shape, or fashion.***

by Kelly Mattei

Back Pain? Foot Pain? Leg Pain? OOFOS!

Back pain? Foot pain? Leg pain? OOFOS!

This summer, I learned about chronic pain. When I say I learned about it, I mean I experienced it, and that’s how I learned. I mentioned in The Only Pain I Want in My Life is…Champagne, which you can read here. I wrote that piece when I was less that a month into the excruciating pain of sciatica. At the time, I had no idea how long it would last.

Now it’s September, and while the pain is mostly gone (FINALLY!), I still have intermittent pain. It’s not severe, and it’s not constant, thank God, but I feel it sometimes. And yes, I’m still praying about it every day. I thank God every day that it’s better, and I pray every day asking Him to help me get well. I’ve done everything I can think of to help myself with it. I’ve seen multiple doctors. I’ve walked. I’ve done physical therapy. I’ve stretched. I’ve done new exercises as directed by the physical therapists. I’ve taken steroids. I’ve iced my back and heated it. I’ve used a TENS machine. I’ve used lidocaine patches and creams. I’ve worn sneakers instead of heels or sandals with every outfit since May. Seriously, I’ve done everything I can think to do.

And on my neighbors recommendation, I purchased some OOFOS recovery flip-flops. She said she had suffered from sciatica and plantar fasciitis, and the OOFOS helped, so I got some to wear around the house. Going barefoot hurts my back and feet, and after wearing sneakers at home all the time, I finally tried the OOFOS.

I have thanked my neighbor many times since.

I have thanked her and thanked her. I will be traveling to a sunny destination next week, and I will be especially thankful for my OOFOS there. All I can say is buy them if you experience back, leg, or foot pain. Try them. They might offer you some relief. If you’re hurting badly enough, you’re likely willing to try them. No, they’re not the cute, but they’re awesome. To purchase from the OOFOS store on Amazon and take advantage of Prime benefits, click here. You can see their various lines and choose for yourself. I choose the thong-style, but they also make slides, clogs, and even sneakers.

Hoping you have happy feet (and back and legs) soon!

by Kelly Mattei

Graduation Season

Graduation season.

Y’all, I’m just glad I don’t have a high school senior graduating this year. I went through that “fun” last year, and honestly, it was exhausting. I know. I know. Lots of people love it. As a southern lady, I’m supposed to enjoy it, but I don’t.

In my opinion, there are two kinds of people in the world: the ones who love ceremonies and those who hate ceremonies. I belong in the latter group. Just like I hate meetings for meeting’s sake, I hate ceremony for ceremony’s sake. I am the person who skipped my own college graduation. Yes, I graduated from college, but I just didn’t feel the need to participate in the “pomp and circumstance.” It seemed so time-consuming, ridiculously formal, and honestly, a little bit corny. While some of my friends were participating in the ceremony, I was hanging out with other friends at our favorite watering hole…raising toasts to each other for getting the job done! Even when I got married, I wondered why we were making it into a spectacle? Why couldn’t we just get married at the courthouse and go on about our business? I didn’t lol need an audience to see me get married. I would have been just as married without the audience. It was a source of great tension for me, and honestly, as grateful as I am to my friends and family who were there, I would have rather gone to the courthouse.

My attitude toward all things “ceremonial” is why I could hardly wait for my daughter’s high school graduation to be over last year. It seemed like “much ado about nothing” to me. Here’s my stance on high school graduation: you’re supposed to graduate from high school. It’s not some grand accomplishment, except under special circumstances. Yes, there are situations in which high school graduation is a big deal, but my daughter graduating from a college preparatory private school in Charlotte, North Carolina? Well, the way I see it: she was supposed to graduate. But all the ceremonies? Senior supper? Baccalaureate? And more? I could have skipped them. I wouldn’t have been heartbroken if she had said, “Let’s leave for vacation early and blow this popsicle stand.” She did enjoy the private parties leading up to and after the event, and I did too, so there were some good things about it…getting to spend time with friends, having a reason to get together, etc. I do love a party, just not a ceremony.

However, I guess I’m in the minority on this, because it seems lots of people get very wrapped up in the graduation ceremony thing.

Today, on Facebook, a friend was posting pictures of her second child in his graduation gown. He’ll be graduating from high school in a few weeks, and she is sad to see the end of his high school career. That’s another way I’m different: I didn’t let the door hit me in the butt on the way out of my daughter’s high school. I was so grateful it was over! I was running as fast as I could! I was ready for that to end. But here’s what I wondered after seeing my friend’s post: How do parents muster up the excitement for their second, third, and fourth children’s graduation? I feel like I learned so much the first time around, and I feel like it would be even less of a big deal to me the second and third times, but since I’m the mother of an only child, I might be wrong?!?

Here’s what I mean: with your first child, many parents think every single stage of childhood is important. If I had a second and third child, I can tell you, I would be much more relaxed about elementary school…and maybe even middle school. Don’t get me wrong. I was never the mom who knew what her child’s assignments were…ever. I always thought school was her job, not mine, but it was very important to me that she take elementary school and middle school seriously. Maybe that’s why I have one child. Maybe God knew I’d be a slacker about school stuff with any subsequent children. I feel sure I would have said, “She doesn’t have any random days off from school in October? Eh…doesn’t matter; she’s only in second grade. We’ll take that long vacation in the middle of the school year anyway.” I actually remember sending her to school in kindergarten or 1st grade with a terrible cough. I thought it was important for her to be there. I received a call from the school nurse, with whom I had become friends, telling me to “come get your daughter.” When I got there to pick her up, I explained to the nurse that it was just a residual cough from a cold she had the previous week. She didn’t feel badly. The nurse said, “Keep her home until that cough is gone.” And I did, but I sweated it a little bit, thinking elementary school was so important. You know what the nurse, who had grown children of her own, knew that I didn’t know? My daughter would be OK even if she missed a week or two of elementary school.

Also, with a second or third child, I likely would have rarely volunteered for anything. It’s likely I would have thought, “My work is done. I’ve done all this once; I’m not doing it again.” Would people have thought my second and third children were motherless children? Maybe, but anyone who had any older kids would have known I had done more than my share the first time around. I was room mother almost every year of lower school. I volunteered everywhere I possibly could. If I’d had second and third children, I might have just slowed down outside the school and pushed them out the car door as I drove off to meet my friends for brunch with Mimosas. Not really, of course, but you get my point.

To all you parents who have children graduating from high school this year: Congratulations. If you don’t have anymore children who still need to graduate from high school, I say, “Congratulations on earning your freedom!” I don’t mean freedom from your child. I mean freedom from the constraints that school puts on your life. And if you enjoy all the “pomp and circumstance” that goes with the whole graduation thing, more power to you! Lots of my friends love every minute of it.

There’s a reason they do all those various ceremonies, but it’s not for people like me!

Also, if you have a child or children leaving for college in the fall, start gathering dorm essentials now. Here are some things I recommend to make move-in a little easier:

Hulken Bag. I ordered two. My daughter has one at college, and I have one at home, but I will take mine down with me when we move her out. They simply make moving lots of items easier. We got large ones. Get them here.

Moving Bags. These are similar to the Ikea moving bags, but I ordered from Amazon, because I thought these were a little bigger and sturdier. They worked great for move-in, and I expect them to work great for move-out too! Get them here. (Keep in mind: these sell out during summer, as families stock up on them, so get yours early.)

Collapsible Wagon. We got one of these for our daughter when she was returning to college after the holidays. It was an easy way for her to get everything from the parking garage to her room. Get it here.

Versacart. This is one my aunt told me about, and it’s awesome! She calls it her “old lady cart,” but it does the job! Get it here.

by Kelly Mattei

Retreat

Retreat. It’s a word I never want to hear unless someone is telling me to run from a bear, as in, “Retreat! There’s a bear!” Chances are I will never hear that, since I never put myself in a place where bears are…but that’s a story for another day. Today, I’m talking about retreats.

Years ago, a friend invited me to join her on a “ladies retreat.” I’m sure I asked her to repeat the question, because I couldn’t have heard her correctly. I was thinking, “Clearly, she doesn’t know me well. If she did, she would know I think the very idea of a ladies retreat sounds like Hell on earth.” No joke. Very little sounds worse to me than women going up to some little camp in the mountains, sitting around talking about their feelings. Yuck. I don’t mean to be offensive. I know some people love that stuff. I’m just not one of them. The last thing I want to do is be holed up somewhere with a random bunch of women. Don’t get me wrong. I love my friends, but I’m picky about how I spend my time. My time is valuable, y’all, so I’m choosy about who I spend it with. The older I get, the pickier I am. I barely have enough time to spend with my real friends. I’d much rather pick some fun stuff to do with them than go on some “ladies retreat.” It’s just who I am. No excuses.

For years, I’ve believed “retreat” is just another word for “mandatory, forced fun,” which doesn’t sound like fun at all. I hear about people going on work retreats, church retreats (***those were actually fun when I was a teenager and they were co-ed***), ladies retreats, and my personal favorite…a retreat for students at school. Nothing says “mandatory, forced fun” more than a school retreat.

Our daughter is starting her senior year in high school. She has endured more than a few school retreats. And when I say “endured,” I mean it. I’m not talking bad about the school. I’m just saying she has her mama’s genes…she hates the idea of “retreats,” too. We also hate the word “mandatory,” and it seems that’s always attached to a school retreat. I wish I could remember which grade was which retreat. One year, they went to a YMCA camp. Maybe 5th grade? I don’t remember, but I do remember that I volunteered to chaperone overnight, which meant I got to sleep on one of those horrible plastic-wrapped, thin, noisy camp mattresses in a cabin with a bunch of girls. It was not fun. It was fun spending time with the girls, but the sleep quality was nothing short of miserable. One girl in the bunk next to mine tossed and turned and tossed and turned, and because of the awful plastic mattress, I heard every toss and every turn. Eventually, I whispered, “Is there a problem?” No answer, but the tossing and turning stopped. Soon thereafter, I fell asleep, but every time someone moved, I awoke in a panic, because I thought someone was falling out of a top bunk. Fortunately, that didn’t happen. But one night was enough for me. It was enough for my daughter too. The next morning, she begged me to take her home with me, but she had to stay for more activities. Poor kid. I felt terrible for her, because I wouldn’t have wanted to be there either.

Because I went on that trip, I never had to do another one. I was off the hook, but our daughter wasn’t. She’s like me…she loves not camping. And that’s OK! Give me a nice hotel with room service any day of the week, but please don’t ever ask me to sleep in a cabin, a tent, or an RV. We simply aren’t those people. The next year, when the “retreat” rolled around, she was begging me not to make her go. We were sitting in her bed two nights before. She was already dreading it. I was explaining that she had to go. You know…”it might be fun!” I knew she didn’t want to sleep in a cabin. And while we were talking, I noticed a nasty-looking bump/wound on her knee. When I said, “That looks like a staph infection to me! You might not have to go if it’s a staph infection,” she couldn’t believe her good luck! I circled it with a Sharpie, to see if the redness grew overnight. I’m sure she prayed for it to be a staph infection that night. The next morning, the redness had expanded outside the Sharpie circle, so I took her to the doctor, and the doctor confirmed it: staph infection. She prescribed an oral antibiotic and ordered her to stay home from the retreat. Success! Who knew she’d be so happy to have a staph infection?!?

There was another retreat the next year, and maybe the next year. I have trouble keeping up with all the mandatory, forced fun. And then today, she had her senior mandatory, forced fun…a day trip (in the rain) to a local camp, where they had a book talk about their mandatory (ugh) summer reading (for over an hour!) before having lunch (she ate Oreos) and swimming in a “lake.” I should also note here that we don’t do warm, brown water, as in lake water. On the rare occasion, I have had to get in a warm lake, but generally speaking, it’s not my thing. I don’t mind it up north, where the lakes are cold, but in the south, the brown water just feels like it’s teeming with bacteria and snakes…lots of snakes. No, thank you. (No offense to the lake lovers of the world. It’s just not my thing.) As I’ve heard before, “I’m outdoorsy in that I like having cocktails on the patio.” That’s a joke, of course; I like outdoor activities…just not in warm brown water.

Today, she rode the bus to and from the “retreat” with her classmates and tolerated the mandatory, forced fun. They rode home on a hot bus filled with seniors. I did the math. Statistically, at least a few of them must have COVID. There were 140 kids on buses. (Yes, the plural of “bus” is “buses.” “Busses” would be kisses. If you doubt me, click here.) Praying there isn’t a giant outbreak from the mandatory, forced fun.

The good news? The “retreat” is over. Thank you, Lord. And now we proceed with her final year of high school.

So, if you ever plan a “ladies retreat,” please don’t invite me. It won’t hurt my feelings.

by Kelly Mattei

The High School “Lasts” Have Begun

The high school “lasts” have begun.

Our daughter is finishing up her junior year in high school. As any mother knows, life with kids is full of “firsts” and “lasts.” It starts with first smiles, first teeth, first words and goes on to first time riding a bike, first day of school…on and on.

At some point, though, we start having “lasts.” Often, we don’t even realize we have had a “last” till well after the fact. There’s the last time you had to actually feed your child, the last time you tied their shoes, the last time you helped them bathe, the last time you brushed their hair, the last time you read a book aloud together…the list continues to grow. A big one for me is the last time I actually carried my child. Fortunately, when our daughter was five or six, I had a friend who told me she always picked up or carried her daughter if she asked (same age), because one day she wouldn’t want her to. Based on that, I carried our daughter or picked her up any time she asked. Eleven years old and she wants me to carry her on my back through an amusement park? You bet! Unfortunately, I didn’t realize when the last time I carried her was actually the last time, but because I had always gladly carried her, it wasn’t painful when I realized she didn’t ask anymore. Honestly, if she asked me to carry her on my back today, I would…and she is 17.

My friend, Linda, told me years ago, when her son was in high school, that she totally didn’t realize it was the last time she would drive her son to school when it was the last time. He got his driver’s license one day, and he was off to school alone the next morning. She said to her husband, “But wait! I didn’t realize that was the last time I would drive him!” It really bothered her. She is long past it now. Her son is in graduate school in Scotland, so she has had lots of “lasts” that were bigger than that.

The “lasts” add up over time: the last day of preschool/elementary/middle school, the last time I actually drove her to school, the last time I actually had to drive her anywhere, and more.

I’m thinking about this, because today, I paid tuition to her independent school for the last time…for her senior year of high school, which will start in August. I’ve been paying yearly tuition since 2008. As soon as I hit the “send” button on the bank draft, I sat back and thought, “that was the last time I’ll do that.” Sure, I will be paying tuition of a different kind, for college, soon enough, but I just paid tuition for my daughter’s 14th year at her present school (she started with transitional kindergarten before kindergarten), and it felt weird to know I will never do it again.

My husband and I talk about “lasts” often, since our daughter is entering her senior year in fall and will be off to college before we can blink. There will be last sports games, last volunteer opportunities at school, and there will even be some people we will likely never encounter again after she graduates.

We sit on the patio with cocktails some evenings talking about how different it’s going to be when she departs for college in just over a year. And we try to enjoy the moments we have with her. Often when she gets home from sporting events or hanging with friends, she will come sit outside with us…it’s valuable, meaningful time for us…and one day there will be a “last” for that too. I hope we will recognize the “lasts” as they occur, like I recognized the last tuition payment today, but I’m sure there will be some that just pass right by without my realizing it. I won’t be able to get a photo to save as a memory of every “last,” but I hope I will remember to get some. I’ll try to get a photo of her last first day of school at her present school. I’ll try to get photos of her last sports games, last time she drives to high school…anything I can think of.

She’ll be flying the coop before we know it. While we are excited for what lies ahead of her (and us), we want to make sure we remember these days. We want her to get out and spread her wings wherever she chooses to go to college (tuition payments to a different place) and live her best life. We just want to enjoy every moment she shares with us.

Now that I’m feeling sentimental, I wonder if I should get a screenshot of that last tuition payment?!

by Kelly Mattei

8th Grade Underdogs

8th Grade Underdogs.

No, I don’t want to relive middle school. Lord, no…just no. I don’t even want to relive my daughter’s middle school years. We were fortunate she had great teachers and administrators for most of her middle school, but she wouldn’t want to do it again, and I wouldn’t want her to. Today, though, a friend posted her daughter’s field hockey stick for sale on Facebook, with the caption, “For sale! The field hockey stick has a proud history of fending off many goals plus an epic win over [our rival]. #letthemeatcake  And it brought back a great memory from my daughter’s 8th grade field hockey season.

One great thing about middle school was that it offered students an opportunity to try sports they had never played before, and our daughter wanted to try to play field hockey in seventh grade. She had been to a field hockey clinic or two, but soccer had always been her primary sport. As the school year started, she decided that, even though she was also playing club soccer, she wanted to play middle school field hockey.

And so the school year started, and she would stay after school for field hockey practice for a couple of hours. Then I would shuttle her over to another part of town for soccer practice. It was more stressful for me than it was for her, because of the traffic at 5:30, but we did it. And then one day, after one of the first field hockey games, she got in the car and said she just couldn’t go to soccer practice. She had too much homework.

Something had to give.

I told her, “It’s time to make a choice. We can’t continue like this. Your schoolwork can’t suffer because of all these sports commitments.” And right there in the car, without hesitation, she picked field hockey. She was tired of soccer, and I understood…she had been playing since she was five years old. Frankly, I was tired of traveling all over the state for it every weekend. Getting up at 5am to drive to Mebane, North Carolina, for an early game was not my ideal way to spend a weekend. So…field hockey it was!

She loved it, but I wouldn’t let her play club field hockey, because I wasn’t getting us back into the same situation we had been in before with soccer. She needed time to get her schoolwork done in a timely fashion, and she needed family time and friend time. So she just played on her 7th grade school team, and she had a great time! Most of the girls on the team had never played before, so they were all learning together. They won some games and lost some games…maybe even lost most of them, but they had a great time. It was a good learning year, and they had a coach who was patient and let everyone get some playing time. And then, in 8th grade, most of them played again.

In eighth grade, the stakes were a little higher. The girls all got some playing time, but they didn’t get equal playing time. In eighth grade, they play to win. Again, I think most of the girls had a great time, and they played pretty darn well. In fact, as the season came to an end, they found themselves in the semifinals of the conference championship (the highest level in middle school) against their biggest cross-town rival. Our team was the underdog, but they had heart…just like The Bad News Bears…but with field hockey…and they’re girls. Their coach got them motivated, and they went into the game wanting to win…on the other team’s field.

The game started, and it was a close one…both teams were playing really well. A friend’s daughter was playing goalie for our team and had some great saves. The girls were stepping up their play! They were playing together beautifully as they never had before! Coach had really pulled them together! She certainly gets all the credit. And then, my daughter, who was playing center-mid, went down with an ankle injury right after halftime, when one of her friends on the opposing team accidentally hit the ball hard right into her ankle. We heard it in the stands: THWACK! My friend who was sitting next to me sat down with me, as I fully expected to have to take my daughter to Urgent Care, where, at the time, we should have had our own parking spot from all her sports injuries. From the stands, though, I could see her crying on the other sideline and icing the ankle, and in a little while, she was back on the field! I was elated!

The game came to an end, and our little team of Bad News Bears won by one goal! They jumped! They screamed! They cheered! They celebrated! And then, while our girls were still celebrating, two or three players from the opposing team quietly approached our players. They were carrying a cake…the one that was intended for their celebration…except they weren’t celebrating. The girls said their coach wouldn’t let them have their celebratory cake, because they didn’t win…and they offered it to our team. We didn’t have a cake, so it was a gracious gesture. Our girls were in shock but accepted it, and a new motto was born: Winners Eat Cake!

Our girls went on to play another cross-town rival in the championship and lost, and although they were disappointed, they have never forgotten how awesome that semifinal win was! As our girls start their junior year of high school and a new, strange field hockey season during COVID, they are still looking forward to the season and being together…and making more memories together. Sometimes the underdogs get the win. Such a sweet memory…

Hoping we can have a great season this year…even with COVID!

Winners eat cake!