This Saturday we were going over to a friends’ house for dinner and we were bringing dessert. With a frightfully light agenda (nothing after morning soccer and art), I thought baking some cookies would be a good (time consuming) activity for the girls.
It’s not hard to spot the personality differences between Michelle and I, but if you need a telling example watch us in the kitchen with the kids. Michelle is the more intuitive cook. She gets the general shape of the recipe and then goes about making it in her way. I have more the baker mindset. I like precision, measuring and following directions.
The end result is usually very tasty no matter who is at the controls, but the process and the state of the kitchen before, during and after are a different story. Throw some child-sized helpers into the mix and it’s a multiplier effect. I need to physically leave the room when the all the girls are in the kitchen. For her part, Michelle can’t understand why it takes me so long to bake a dozen cookies.
We spent the last 10 days bouncing between and exploring New York, Chicago and Boston and our biggest takeaway was a new respect and obsession with Detroit. Detroit pizza. We tried to go into Chicago with an open mind, but none of us were big fans of the deep dish. The Detroit slices we found at a food hall, those crispy, cheesy, close cousins to our beloved Sicilian? Those were amazing.
As a pizza nerd, I was in heaven. As an Amazon prime customer, I had a pan waiting when we returned from the airport. And Saturday night I had people over to test the new recipe.
But before the pizza, we had to survive soccer….
You know if I’m leading with the junk drawer then it was a light day on the agenda in the Donohue household. With upcoming trips next week to both NYC (no kids!) and Chicago (with kids), we purposely decided to take it pretty easy. At least, I did. Michelle and I have very different views on taking it easy.
Basically, Michelle can’t do it. Unless she’s in Hawaii. Even then….. I, on the other hand, have no problem reading a book for 8 hours straight and ignoring the clutter for a time.
This is how we ended up purging all the junk drawers, cubbies, nooks, and closets that had sprung up around the house. C’mon admit, you too, have more than one!
I was ready for some bourbon in my coffee before kick-off. The honeymoon period was clearly over during my second week as a Pre-K soccer coach. The excitement and novelty of this strange game that held them transfixed during week one was not going to cut it for week two. Allison was still fired up and plowed through quite a few boys and girls to get a goal, but at least half of the other team clearly had better places to be on a gray Saturday morning.
Clearly, I’m going to have to come up with some new tricks for these last four weeks or these kids are going to use their little cleated feet to kick me to the curb. God bless teachers for dealing with these little monsters 180 days a year.
This week, as Saturday crept closer and Allison’s excitement grew, I became seriously worried that she had somehow conflated peewee soccer with eating an unlimited supply of chocolate bars. She was very excited, anxiously asking when her ‘chin’ guards and new soccer ball would arrive. This was a new experience for me.
I’ve become accustomed to shrieks of delight over dance recitals, princesses, tulle and glitter tattoos. I’ve never had a child this excited about a sport. She almost passed out when the box finally arrived on Friday. I’m pretty sure she would have slept with her shin guards on if we had let her. Maybe all my Premier League watching has somehow seeped into her brain?
Did I mention I would be coaching these all these (equally excited) 4 year old’s at 9 a.m. Saturday morning?