I played volleyball in my junior high and into part of my high school years, and I had a fan club. And that fan club had just one member: Mom.
Mom came to nearly every volleyball game I ever played. Her devotion to watching me play was tireless. For in-season games, she trekked all over the Twin Cities to neighboring towns at least one night of every week. And for the off-season games, she often would travel with our team for weekend tournaments to glorious places like Iowa City, or sometimes even Chicago!
She and a couple other moms joined us for a weekend tournament in some mid-western city that escapes me. I was probably 15 - so at the height of my eye-rolling teenagerness. Mom had spotted a t-shirt that said: "Eat! White! Leather!" with an image of a zooming volleyball on it...and she thought that was awesome.
So, when our team played, she took it upon herself to be the team cheerleader. Her one cheer?
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
Whenever it seemed appropriate, Mom shouted it out with everything she had...
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
My teammate just served the ball and scored our team a point...
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
I blocked the opposing team's hit...
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
It got to a point where I was getting those "your Mom is weird" looks from my teammates.
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
But she was so tireless and passionate about it, it went from weird to funny...
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
...it was even more funny after she started losing her voice from yelling so much...
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
...but even losing her voice didn't stop her.
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
"LOVE! YOU! MOM!"
"EAT! WHITE! LEATHER!"
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Monday, November 5, 2012
Griffin Dean
Once again, I blinked and my baby boy turned one year old.
And here is my very (very, very) late Polack Orange interweb-ulous introduction of Griffin Dean Mohn:
Born September 20, 2011 at 10:15 a.m. Our "little" dude was 10 lbs 13 ounces. (Thank goodness for c-sections!) A bold tribute to my Mom would've been to name him Gerald Dean. We went with Griffin Dean instead. He wears that name like a glove.
Griffin is adventurous, feisty, chunky, hilarious, and has a little boy voice that sounds a little bit like E.T. As a new walker, he spends most of his time wandering around our living room waving around a dirty sock or wet dish cloth like a drunk cowboy that's just hopped off his horse. Each Griffin moment is like an unscripted comedic scene. He's our household comic relief. The court jester of Castle Mohn.
Prior to Griffin's arrival, Mom stopped eating. Within weeks of my due date, I was having daily conversations with my Dad about the state of things... "Did she eat anything today? Were you able to get her to drink anything? Has she been awake much lately?" I was simultaneously preparing for the birth of my son and the death of my Mother. I was at a bit of a loss on how to feel about it. I remember saying to a few people that knew what was going on..."It's kinda some intense circle of life shit." (Cue the unrated version of the Lion King song.)
Well, Mom pulled through. She started eating again. She had more awake moments. And since then she continues to have ups and downs. And with her ups and downs with the disease, I have my own as well. But to help me through it, I've got my Drunk Cowboy E.T. son to make me smile and with a middle name to help carry on her legacy.
And here is my very (very, very) late Polack Orange interweb-ulous introduction of Griffin Dean Mohn:
Griffin is adventurous, feisty, chunky, hilarious, and has a little boy voice that sounds a little bit like E.T. As a new walker, he spends most of his time wandering around our living room waving around a dirty sock or wet dish cloth like a drunk cowboy that's just hopped off his horse. Each Griffin moment is like an unscripted comedic scene. He's our household comic relief. The court jester of Castle Mohn.
Prior to Griffin's arrival, Mom stopped eating. Within weeks of my due date, I was having daily conversations with my Dad about the state of things... "Did she eat anything today? Were you able to get her to drink anything? Has she been awake much lately?" I was simultaneously preparing for the birth of my son and the death of my Mother. I was at a bit of a loss on how to feel about it. I remember saying to a few people that knew what was going on..."It's kinda some intense circle of life shit." (Cue the unrated version of the Lion King song.)
Well, Mom pulled through. She started eating again. She had more awake moments. And since then she continues to have ups and downs. And with her ups and downs with the disease, I have my own as well. But to help me through it, I've got my Drunk Cowboy E.T. son to make me smile and with a middle name to help carry on her legacy.
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