It's the End of the World As We Know It...

I love it when t.v. shows use the same gimmick when they're naming their episodes...like Friends using "The one with the..." or The Mentalist using a shade of red somewhere in the title, as a shout-out to the uber-villain "Red John".  There's a show (or two or three...I'm not sure) that uses song titles--Grey's Anatomy perhaps? (I quit watching that depression-fest a couple of seasons ago.)

Although I'm not using a tool such as the "reoccurring themed title" for my posts, if I were...well, this R.E.M. opus would have been at the top of my list to use.  I have an idea for another post entitled "Losing My Religion" which has totally different connotations for me than you might think.  Man, I really loved R.E.M. in high school and college...they lost me there for a bit, as did U2.  While I think Bono is a great guy and and get hot for The Edge, I just can't get into their music the way I used to.

I digress.

You're shocked. I know.

So, the whole part of this post is to lament the end of my summer break.  But, once I start thinking about it...I'm actually excited to go back, just like I am every year.  (Why yes, I am a glutton for punishment.)

Summer, for me, isn't really a break. I spend the majority of my time doing...well...shit that I needed to do all school year long, but I didn't have the time for.  Like what, you ask?  Um. Like laundry.  Cleaning the house. Cleaning out the closets. Giving crap to the Goodwill. Getting rid of size NB diapers (Bay is TWO!). Potty training Bay. Teaching Boo how to ride a bike (okay, I totally give that one to Babe...he did it, not me.)  Blah, blah, blah, I'm doing those things that other people seem to find the time for in the normal course of their lives.

I don't know why I can't get stuff done during the school year, but I can't.  I do know that Babe and I are both famous for burning the candle at both ends, so I'm sure that has something to do with it.  I also know that if I'm faced with the choice of spending time with the kids at the pool or grading papers--well, the papers will lose.  Every. Single. Time.

I'm also excited about the beginning of a new school year.  It's time to meet new families, new kids, try new things in my classroom...but really, I'm just excited that I have an excuse to leave the piles of laundry in the laundry room for days on end.

How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?

I try to not do blog posts that piggyback on each other...I like to believe myself to be delightfully random and quirky.  However, I just can't NOT write this one.

My mother-fucking knee is seriously jacked up.  Like, seriously.  I went into my surgery last week with cartilage, albeit gnarly cartilage, in my knee and I came out with it all sucked out.  Turns out I dislocated my kneecap last February and it sheared all of it off, hence all the crunchy sounds when I walked.  Oh, I had a small meniscus tear too, but that was secondary to the other crap.

So, my doc fixed the tear, took all the shit that was floating around my knee out, and stitched me up, and promised my husband that he and I (the doc...) would have spend some quality-time together in a month or so. 

Side note: My knee-guy?  Hot.  Really, really hot.  Anyone watch Bones?  He looks like a skinnier "Wendell".  Pair that with the fact that he's smart and athletic.  H.O.T.

So, while he said that my knee was "better" it wasn't "fixed" and "walking up and down stairs, as well as down inclines would be really, really painful."  Um. My classroom is on the second floor of the building.  Yeah, something tells me I'm going to want to fix it sooner rather than later.

My surgery will resurface my knee with plastic and metal and I should be better.  Yay.  I'll post info when I get it.

However, everyone keeps telling me that I need to give soccer up.  It sucks because despite the fact that The Beautiful Game and I have had a very spotty and tumultuous relationship the past few years--having kids and fucking up an ankle that requires 4 surgeries will do that--however, I was getting back into it, then THE KNEE happened.

 I do other sports.  I swim. I bike. I do yoga. I play volleyball.  I enjoy all of those things, but nothing compares to the feeling I get from kicking someone's ass on the field.

How am I going to move past it?  I was able to get through my (long) absences from the sport because the possibility of coming back was always there, but that door might be irrevocably closed.  What do I do?  I've known  A TON of people that have had to quit completely, and they do so and never look back...I just never thought I'd be one of them.

Am I still me if I no longer play?

Dearest Soccer...

I miss you.

 I really, really do.  Watching the Women's World Cup does nothing but pour salt in the open wound that is my fucked up knee and the impending surgery.  (Which is this coming Friday...I'm a bit skeered...what if it's more that just "gnarly stuff" like the doc thinks?)

I talk about you with Babe.  I coached you for Boo.  I am still friends with all of your devotees on Facebook.  But, sometimes it's just too hard.

I miss knocking some guy over because he thinks that he's "the man"...and there's no way he could get beat by "just a girl".  I miss the team camradarie...post-game beers and talking shit about the other team.  I miss the feeling of making a huge cross, from back to front field...feeling the power that my legs could bring.

 I have to admit, I've been cheating on you a bit.  At first it was with Turbo Fire.  It was something that I could do at school and at most, it only took an hour.  Then, after the knee debacle, I re-discovered mountain biking and swimming.  While they give me some satisfaction, it's not like the rough-and-tumble, sweat-drenched loving you would give me several days a week.

 But.

<sigh>

You're no good for me...at least right now.  You need to remember that I've put my body through hell for you, and I need to do what I can to get healthy so perhaps...someday...we can be together again.

Much love and devotion,
Me