A Little Football with the Leatherkids

Like his Mommy, Cal can actually throw a pretty decent spiral with a football.  Sure, it's one of those miniature footballs; but his hand is a third the size of mine, maybe even smaller.  I'm not even sure when he developed this skill, really -- he's played some catch with his dad, I know... perhaps more than I've actually witnessed because it just seems to me that practicing throwing a football requires two people.  I know he'll throw this mini football straight up in the air with a tight spiral and catch it when it comes back down; but his throwing it forward seems to have been limited to what he can do in our living room against the wall or the couch by himself (not much for fear of breaking something, not that there's much to break) or with Dan (maybe more than I think).

Over the past week or two, he has asked me excitedly to play some catch with him in the living room.  I haven't always obliged, but when I have, Ella has usually joined us.  The bit is usually the same -- I throw to Cal, Cal throws to me, I toss to Ella, Ella throws to me... and then we start all over again.

I got home from work just before 7pm tonight.  The Leatherkids were already fed and showered and were looking for some Mommy time... or perhaps some football time with whatever warm-blooded creature might be up for it.  This warm-blooded creature bit.

We assumed our usual positions in the living room.  Cal positioned himself by the door, Ella by the pseudo (folding) dining room table and I by the kitchen.  And we started throwing and catching.

I have to say, Cal's spiral wasn't as tight tonight as it usually is.  I'm not sure why.  He seemed to be more interested in doing trick tosses than throwing a good ball.  Our right-handed Ella actually stepped and threw with her left foot (progress!) most of the time. And me?  I continued to work on my spiral with that miniature, light-as-a-feather, small-as-a-softball football, applying mechanics I learned from watching Ella toss it to me (no kidding -- it's different than throwing an adult-sized football) and just firing it hard to Cal and his bricks for hands (we're working on it).

We were probably five minutes into our tosses to each other when Cal changed things up and lined up next to me.  This was my sign to say, "set, hike!" at which time he'd run his pattern, which was basically a fly, if it could really be called that in our limited space.  He'd run, I'd try to lead him, and he'd drop it.  He'd hint (very nicely) that my passes weren't good; and I'd respond with, "if it touches your hands, you should catch it" (things I've been told many times by my male social club football teammates, not to suggest I dropped very many passes in my day).  Ella also lined up and ran her own version of the fly; and I gently tossed the ball to her when she turned around to catch it.

They took turns at running their patterns for five, maybe ten minutes, sometimes catching, sometimes dropping, usually smiling.  Once, Cal played defense on Ella, which was met with a tearful reception; so that ended abruptly.  She's soft -- another thing to work on once we nail the stepping-with-the-left-foot thing.

When they got tired of their patterns, we assumed our positions for playing catch.  Ella declared that we should count our consecutive catches.  She tossed one to me to start... "1"... then I threw it to Cal, who dropped it, and we started all over, this time all of us focused and committed to not dropping the ball.  Cal to me, me to Ella, Ella to me, me to Cal.  We set our own record at 24 in a row before Cal dropped one, a bullet and not-so-good-spiral thrown by moi.

And at 24 catches in a row, we called it a night... a fun night... a fun, football night with the Leatherkids.  I'll take that over any Pokemon-card talk any day!

Ella the Cat?

I can think of only 10 months of my life when I did not have a cat, so I am very familiar with their behaviors and personalities.  One of those behaviors is the way they curl up next to or on a warm body to sleep at night.  I've spent many a night with a cat nestled snuggly between my legs or a cat's "elbow" leaning up on one of them; and I truly enjoy it. For many years I wouldn't move for fear of disrupting my kitty's sweet sleep; and then I learned that it doesn't matter -- move, and the sweet kitty moves with you.

Strong personality, extrovertedness and dislike for anything with buttons aside, Ella is my mini me.  She, too, enjoys a good night's sleep with cats, specifically our cat, Zoe.  She covets it.  Really, Ella likes doing anything with Zoe; and Zoe seems to feel the same way about Ella. If Zoe darts out the door in the evening (we prefer she stay indoors at night), it's Ella who runs after her and hauls her back in... successfully nearly 100% of the time.  Ella regularly finds Zoe in the house, picks her up and just loves up on her; and Zoe lets her, hanging in Ellas arms like a ragdoll.

Of the three beds in our household, Zoe makes her way to Ella's bed more than the other two, though mine and Dan's is a close second.  So Ella and Zoe have spent many a night together.

Looking back over the past couple of weeks, I'm thinking Zoe may have actually been in our bed most nights or at least a block of nights early in that timeframe. I say "looking back" because Ella has been exhibiting a new, somewhat strange behavior the same couple of weeks, and I'm starting to wonder if it's somehow tied to or influenced by Zoe.  The strange behavior?  Crawling up onto our bed and lying at the base of it (like, by our feet), sometimes curled up like a cat, sometimes stretched straight between the two of us and once even between my legs.  Sometimes Zoe is lying with or on her; other times, Zoe is no where to be found.  And Ella always has Blue Blankie (her treasure) and a stuffed animal lying somewhere next to her.  Short of preening herself and purring, she's acting just like a cat.

I don't always know it when it's happening.  Sometimes, I do and take her back to her room; other times I do and, well, don't take her back to her room because I'm just... so... tired (and maybe it's because I just think she's so darn cute).

Did she "get" this from Zoe?  Is she acting like a cat?  Or does she just simply find it crazy comfy at the base of our bed.  I don't know that we'll ever know for sure, if there's even an explanation for it.

Today's Early-Rising Fun

I got up early this morning to get a workout in before getting ready for and heading to work.  Early was not as early as I had intended when I set my alarm and went to bed last night; but it was early enough to do a half hour's worth of damage, and, really, early enough to do so alone.  It was 5:40am when I got out of bed, and 5:45am by the time I was heading out my bedroom door to get it started.

I had barely stepped through the doorway to my bedroom when I almost bumped into Cal.  Not startled by me at all, he didn't skip a beat and announced, "Mommy, guess what?"

"What?" I asked, showing as much interest as I could muster AT 5:45AM, which was about as much interest as I muster when he talks about his Pokemon cards.

"There are only TWO undefeated teams!" he declared right away.

After spending some brain cycles on figuring out what season we were in (afterall, it was 5:46AM at this point), it clicked... football!  Before I could even remember which teams played last night and who it could've been who fell, he told me, "the Bengals lost!"

News to me!  Cal has a clock radio in his room now and listens to it when he goes to bed and when he wakes up.  Surely, he had just learned of this information minutes before running into me.

"So what are the two undefeated teams, then?" I was fully engaged now and actually knew this answer.  So did Cal.

"The Patriots and the Panthers," he answered, immediately.

"That's right, Baby Bear!"  I'm sure he said something about Odell Beckham, Jr. (somehow every football conversation with Cal involves good ole Odell) after that, and then I turned toward the stairs and announced to him that I'd be getting a workout in.  As I started down the stairs I noticed that Ella was also up and going potty in the bathroom, door wide open.  I continued down the stairs without acknowledging her because I had some working out to do and didn't want to get sucked into a conversation about whatever it is that Ella might want to talk about at 5:47am, not to suggest that there's ever a conscious theme or scope for what she has to say.

I was about halfway through my workout when Cal emerged on the landing of the stairs to the basement.  Now, I don't mind a little company when I work out, but my kids talk a lot... I mean, A LOT... incessantly, really.  Both of them.  About anything and everything. Not only was it way too early to be having any substantial conversation; but I was doing a lower body workout, the kind where you have to count repetitions.  I could not participate in much of a conversation and still count, even to 12.  So I really wasn't sure how welcome Cal's company really was.  And not long after he had made his way to the basement, Ella was there, too, both of them talking up a storm as I squatted and lunged and raised.

Turns out, while distracting and loud, it was fun -- they were entertaining and fully interested in what I was doing.  Cal announced ridiculous things like, "I can lift 100 pounds all the way up to my head," while Ella grabbed a couple of two pounders and did squats herself (after a little instruction from me).  They both hopped on the not-moving treadmill and pretended to run on it... together.  There was no fighting, a lot of talking, and a little too much bravado from my first born.  The best was when Cal came back to earth and said he could lift the 35-pound dumbbell because "Ella's 38 pounds and I can lift her," and proceeded to pick her up off the ground to demonstrate.

So while I entered the morning thinking I'd have some quiet, alone time, I ended up having some quality time with my kids doing what I enjoy and what I enjoy showing them I enjoy.  I've been working a lot of hours lately (thank you, Leatherkids and Leatherdaddy, for understanding), and this has taken away some of my opportunities for quality time and sometimes general patience with them; so to have some unexpected interaction and fun with them in the wee hours of the morning today, I am happy.  I think they were, too.