Adding Insult to Injury

So, apparently, I’m a real peach.

In August 2008, my daughter broke her FRONT, bottom tooth playing soccer. It was a hot, sticky Sunday afternoon and it was misery. The root was exposed and she was in pain. Lucky for us the best endodontist in the world (email me for a referral!) came to the rescue (on a Sunday!)and repaired what could be repaired and sent us on our way. Because of the nitrous, she couldn’t play soccer the rest of the day, but we did make it back out to the fields to watch what remained of the “First (and only) Annual Coach #2 Jamboree.”

Since August 2008, we have had six temporary crowns and a root canal on that tooth. The bonding wouldn’t stick to what tooth we had left and we had to wait for more than a year to have the root canal b/c the root was not mature enough to have said procedure.

Finally, MyGirl got a permanent crown – well, a so-called permanent crown. I say that only because in MyGirl’s case, it was NOT permanent. She broke this $1400 tooth playing ping pong on New Years Eve.

I talked to the cosmetic dentist that wants to replace her old, broken crown with another “permanent” porcelain crown. I talked to friend’s dad, who was a dentist, he recommended acrylic temporary crown. I talked to another cosmetic dentist who gave completely different advice. (UGGH!)

Hubs took MyGirl to her pediatric dentist (with specific directions to get a recommendation about what to do with the tooth/crown). This dentist would not give an opinion either way. Hubs decided to give me a call after already making a follow-up appointment for sealants and while standing in the lobby.

Frustrated and on the verge of breakdown, I said, “Can I please just talk to the dentist?”
I mean seriously – it’s her FRONT TOOTH.
Hubs: “ I’m already in the lobby.”
Me: “Okay – then let me talk to the receptionist.”

Receptionist and I have a quick conversation about which dentist should call me back and when he would call me back.
Receptionist lady hands my husband the phone back. She must have thought I hung up, b/c while handing husband the phone, she says sarcastically, “Boy - She’s a real peach.”
Hubs: “Tell me about it.”

So while there are not two dentists in Middle Tennessee that could give the same opinion on a 10-year-old’s tooth…. There are two people that agree that I am, in fact, a peach.

We ended up with a stainless-backed, porcelain crown. So far it’s holding up just fine. (Bowing my head and saying quick prayer that sentence remains true.)

MyGirl also now wears a mouthguard – most of the time. And when she doesn’t, I have to go all “peachy” on her…

Divine Secrets of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Soccer Pants

In a perfect world, travel soccer would be all sunshine and lollipops. The friendships that MyGirl makes on this team would last a lifetime and all of her teammates would keep in touch through college and send handwritten letters to each other, have frequent reunions, be in each others weddings and be godmothers of each others children. One of the girls would write a best-selling book about the strong bonds of friendship that travel soccer gave them and that book would eventually be turned into a screenplay.

In the real world, it is not all sunshine and lollipops. It’s not sweet – at all. (I think I can safely guarantee that when MyGirl’s team steps off the field after a game, the other team doesn’t profess how sweet and kind they are.)

AND - I would venture to guess that MyGirl’s team would be classified as one of the more physical teams. (I know the parents on MyGirl’s team are smiling as they read that sentence.)

The team used to do this drill before warm-ups. Each girl had a penny (a colored practice jersey) tucked into the back of their shorts. All the girls had to run around and pull the penny out of each others shorts while making sure that their penny didn’t get pulled. The girl with the last penny was the winner. Fun, right? Sure – until they start FULL-ON tackling each other to get the pennies. On the sidelines, the parents were more worried about the girls getting hurt by their own teammates during warm-ups than during a game. They literally used to beat the crap out of each other.

Body checks came naturally to these girls and they do it all the time, even harder during practice (no refs to call fouls during practice). So, you can try to knock these girls down during a game, but I don’t know how far you would get. They can dig in and stay standing no matter what hits them -- for the most part. And back in the day, before the girls skills matched their opponents – this was their biggest line of defense. Their brute force went a long way.

That said, MyGirl’s team gets called for a lot of fouls. And sometimes, I think they aren’t really fouls – but I’m biased. One of StrikerGirl’s best comments after a game was, “I DID NOT TRIP HER. She just fell down.” I totally believe her.

It used to be that when MyGirl was pushed around on the field, she would retaliate the next time she was around that player. (It took a yellow card to learn that retaliation directly after being pushed around is grounds for... a yellow card.)

Now these girls know each other so much better. They love each other in a way that only teammates can. They take up for one another. So MyGirl doesn’t have to wait until she’s around that player that pushed her around, because one of her teammates will get that girl for her. I know that sounds TERRIBLE. But soccer is a contact sport.

They still push each other around during practice. But there’s an unwritten, unspoken code – “I can take my teammate out, but YOU better not touch her.”

In the words of Ludacris…. “[They’re] not playing around, Make one false move, [They’ll] take you down. So Get Back, you don’t know [them] like that.”

So, yes… The musical stylings of Ludacris are more likely to describe this team than a book called “Sunshine and Soccer Balls,” but there are definitely ties that bind these girls together – a sisterhood. And the longer these girls stay together, the stronger the binding is gonna' get. If I played soccer, I’d rather play with them than against them.

Clearly I'm exaggerating. Do these beauty queens look like they could really hurt someone?