Mascots, Team Names and other Ridiculousness

I want to add a quick disclaimer here: I am not an expert in sports by any means, I'm a casual viewer of football and that's about it. Although I looked up information on this subject, I'm not saying everything is entirely factual, and a lot is based on opinion. So if I get something wrong, well, don't say I didn't warn you. That being said, let's move forward.

I didn't go to the University of North Dakota, but last year and the year before, they were in the news quite a bit because of the school's sport's team name, The Fighting Sioux.  After a lot of protesting by both sides, the ND house of representatives forced them to retire the logo and the name. You should know that the Sioux name was first used by UND in 1930.

The logo was created by a guy named Bennett Brien, who happened to be of Ojibwa decent. Apparently, he didn't have a problem with the name. Now I am not Native American, but I really don't see how this is an insult. I feel that they are honoring them for being such strong people. Do you know how much it costs to remove logos from a stadium? LOTS. Not to mention all those wasted T-shirts, foam fingers and other paraphernalia. Reasons for selecting this name were given in a student newspaper as (1)"Sioux are a good exterminating agent for Bison" (the mascot of the nearby North Dakota State University team), (2)"They are warlike, of fine physique and bearing", and (3)"The word Sioux is easily rhymed for yells and songs" Now I can see if the mascot of UND was some dude who came out dressed in a loin cloth, with a headdress waving a hatchet or something. (Not that anyone would want to with our brutal winters.) But there is no mascot.

So, what about the other sports teams who have Native American references? There's the Kansas City Chiefs, the Atlanta Braves, and the Washington Redskins (I don't think they mean potatoes) that I know of. And by the way, the Cleveland Indian's mascot is this guy:

 

How is this relevant?

Here's my next question, what about the likes of say, the Fighting Irish? Now I don't know the history of Ireland or if they were war-faring people, but I can tell you when I hear "fighting Irish" I seriously think of whiskey and bar brawls. Their logo doesn't do much to deter me from this visual.

This is how you decide a dispute in darts at the bar.

Guess what? They DO have a mascot, a leprechaun! I guess I have never felt like a leprechaun was much of a threatening force...but I could be wrong. It certainly seems like they don't have to do much to invest in their mascot's wardrobe. I've seen people downtown who dress like this on a regular basis.

At least the Vikings were know for pillaging remote villages and were feared, but I don't see a whole lot of pissed off Norwegians...and trust me, you can't throw a stick around here without hitting one. And we have this weirdo representing Minnesota at that football games:

Introducing...Ragnar! No seriously. The BO could be scary.

I'm so proud. I guess we could even go as far as saying the NY "Yankees" is offensive, right? I mean, wasn't it an insult in some situations to be called a "Yank?" I could be wrong. I'm not even going to start with the "Brewers" 'cause I'm thinking beer. (Reminder to re-read the disclaimer at this point.)

Of course this got me to thinking about some of these team names that don't make any sense. I mean, can you see UND changing it's name from "The Flickertails" to "The Fighting Sioux?" They did. But looking at this little guy,

Flickertail...also know as a Ground Squirrel

I can't really picture any other team running with their tails between their legs at the sight of him. Unless maybe he was rabid and had a litter or more of siblings to attack. Or unless you're Chevy Chase.

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation

My High School's team was called...."The Governors." No, I'm not kidding. Of course I grew up in Pierre, SD, which also happens to be the capital and yes, the Governor lives there. Try coming up with a mascot for that one, some overweight politician in a suit and tie who goes around shaking hands and kissing babies (maybe he throw in one of those half-cartwheel things where you put your hands on the ground and kind of jump your feet sideways)? I think not. I don't know where this came from (and maybe it's not even still around) but our mascot was....ready?.....

Gumby. The green blocky clay-mation thing with a horse. Must've been a slow horse, because his name was Pokey. Remember him? Yep, our mascot. Doesn't this instill team loyalty and sports enthusiasm? I try to figure this one out. All I can come up with is that our colors were green and white, and he IS green. We also had a school newspaper called, "The Gumbo," but I'm not sure which came first. Who names their newspaper after a stew anyway? I can't remember who had the glorious job of running around in a green jumpsuit. That would suck. (As an aside, it was just Gumby, not Pokey.) Yeah, I'm thinking he's not around any more for the team.

Anyone else have weird High School / College team names? Now I'm curious. Rah rah!

Randomness

Some randomness from the last few days. I don't have a whole incident to tell, but I've witnessed quite a few oddities that I must share. Here they are in no particular order:

There are days when the giggling and screaming coming from the ankle biters reach such a crescendo, the only way to put a stop to it is to separate them. God has a sense of humor, he's made those screeches of delight during play hit the exact pitch that manages to wither a small portion of my brain. Part of the separation process requires that they each take baths at different times. (If you want to know why, read World of Whats here.) Big K had just gotten out, was wrapped in his towel and in goes Little Man. I'm in the process of doing something else so consequently, there is about 15 minutes of them running around in nothing but a smile. I finally get a chance to grab Kaiden and drag him to his room to put his pajamas on. Little Man is left to fend for himself with dad, and as usual, pulls out paper to draw.

An original

I'm just about done with Kaiden when I hear dad yell, "Kam!" I hear heavy footsteps on the way to the bedroom. There stands my hubby with his hand wrapped around his little stick of an arm. "What now?" I ask. He spins Kamrin around. He has managed to take a marker and color each of his little butt cheeks green. "Kamrin! What have you done?" Whose kid does that kind of thing? Apparently mine.

I was in my normal rush the morning before. My routine normally calls for 2 trips to the car, one for all the baggage and the second for the kids and purse. Kaiden thought it was too "hot" for his gloves (a whole 27º!), so I balled them up to put in his backpack. But somewhere between Kamrin needing a blanket, and Kaiden needing a drink before we could walk out the door, I had set them on the counter and forgotten them. Kaiden only has those stretchy knit gloves that you get for $1 because he had already lost 2 really nice sets. I think I must have made my point about losing them, because when I picked him up from daycare his immediate response was, "Mom! I couldn't find my gloves! I looked everywhere and I asked the teacher AND the bus driver and I looked through everything in my backpack and they're not there."

"I know. They're on the counter at home."

"What?! YOU forgot them? Moo-oom! I couldn't go out for recess until I had gloves and the teacher made me wear some from the lost and found and they were GIRL gloves! They were purple with pink puppies on them and I couldn't play with anyone because I had to keep my hands in my pockets the WHOLE TIME!"

I'm sure he thought they looked like this, just add pink puppies.

I brought a box home from my office. In it was a large yoga ball that I had used to sit on when my backside went numb. It was quite therapeutic. Kamrin brought the deflated mass to my husband and begged for it to be blown up. After about the 3000th request, Shawn used the air compressor to restore it back to its massive roundness. Well, that should keep them occupied for a bit. I stood in the bedroom folding clothes when out of the corner of my eye, I spy small bodies flying through the air, followed by a huge thump and laughter. They were taking turns jumping from the bed and belly-flopping onto the ball where they were tossed into the air before they crash landed. "HEY! What are you doing? YOU know I can't take you to the emergency room if you break your arm! Stop!"

Not my kid.

I was asked what a soul was.

A show on TV was talking about freak pet accidents (they all survive). They showed one of those dogs that are closer cousins to rats than anything else (a chiwawa?) that had jumped up to see what his master had cooking on his outdoor grill. The man had just lowered his 2-pronged fork (those big ones that are made for a grill) and managed to skewer the thing through the head. (I'm guessing that wouldn't be an accident for some people). It ran off and several hours later they managed to find it and take it to the vet where miraculously survived. Ten minutes later in my household, I see Kamrin holding a dinner fork and crooning, "Heeeeerrree Bobie (our lab mix)." Don't even think about it. Hand the fork over.

Whoever invented the powered candy with the concentrated sugar stick for dipping, should be shot. I hate vacuuming after 9 at night.

Not fun for moms.

My neighbors graciously watched my boys when hubby and I had to go get our taxes done. It took 2 and a half hours. They'll probably have the best sleep they've had in years.

I found one empty glass AND a glass with cottage cheese in the refrigerator. (for real, not like the milk I usually find).

My son wrote me a letter, it said "I love mommy and dad. Thay r sooper grate!"

My son picked a bracelet out of the dentist prize box just for me.

I unclogged the bathroom sink by picking out soggy pieces of green toilet paper. Kamrin must've felt guilty about the marker incident.

I was actually able to enjoy a clean living room for more than half an hour. Then it was time to pick up the boys.

And to think, tomorrow's only Wednesday.

Soft Boy

I've had a really bad week.  I lost my job. I can't sleep and I can't eat. I'm trying to figure out which direction to go. This should be a fresh start for me. A break from the old, and endless possibilities for the future. But I forget that I'm getting old, at least according to the job market. Especially a market that is coming off of  a recovering recession and is looking to cut costs wherever they can. So they aren't going to pay for my experience and knowledge. They would rather hire young, at minimal pay, and train. I'm trying very hard to be optimistic. Can I generate enough freelance business that I could just find a part time job in something that I love or would be beneficial to me...say Hobby Lobby or Home Depot?

How do you approach this subject with your children? You don't want them to have to worry about the grown up issues, but you also need an explanation as to why certain privileges and extravagances are cut off. As an adult, you think that you do really well at hiding some of these turmoils. Or at least I did. But kids are way more perceptive than we think. They overhear whispered conversations, and I think they know when something is just "off" with their parents. They really aren't given as much credit as they deserve.

The day after my job loss, I did what a lot of people do and posted something on facebook. My mother texted me and said something to the effect that I shouldn't publish that in case future employers would look me up. I was already in bed when this text came through and kind of snapped back at her. But she was right, I should take the high road. But after I got up and deleted my post, I went back to bed, and realized that she was right, I couldn't even vent publicly. I went back to bed with my 4 year old son who was in bed with us, and asleep, or so I thought, but thinking of my mom's words made me silently cry. Out of the darkness came two pudgy hands on each cheek, "Mommy? You cold? My keep you warm." I'm glad that's what he thought it was. I tried not to cry harder.

Conversations with my sons have become more and more adult. I'm starting to realize that I don't have all the answers. I spent almost an entire Saturday feeling sorry for myself, laying on my bed and watching mind-numbing television. I told my kids that I didn't feel well when I honestly was wallowing in self-pity. Sunday came, and I decided to get rid of my aggression, physically, by pounding an ice chipper into the ground over and over and over. My palms are bruised and my shoulders ache, but I feel a little better.

Then I realized that tomorrow is Valentine's Day and my son needs Valentine's to take to school. With this sudden tightening of the belt, I went to the dollar store and got Valentine's with attachable suckers for $2. I also got both sons and husband a cardboard heart with three measly chocolates in them for a dollar each. I had a $10 bill and needed to keep the total less than that. Hubby was appreciative, but when I told Little Man he couldn't have a sucker (there was just enough for Big K's class), I was told that I wasn't loved any more...ever! He promptly went crying to his room and fell asleep.

Later, I was tucking Big K into bed, and that seems to be when he has all the questions. It gives me glimpse into what is really bothering him, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to me. He first asked, "Mommy, what if a gang surrounds me, and I don't know what to do?" (Wha?) First of all, yes, we do have gangs in ND. Not even close to what they have say, in California, but they exist. My response was, "Honey, that's not going to happen to you."

"But mom, what if they do?"

My best off-the-cuff response, "If something like that happened, you'll be old enough to have a cellphone and you can call 9-1-1." (Really? That's the best I could come up with?) "Besides, Dad will teach you how to be a tough guy, something mommy can't do."

"But mommy? Sometimes I don't want to be a tough guy, sometimes I just want to be a soft boy."

(Suppressing smile.) "Well, I understand that. But me and daddy are here if you ever have any problems, people can be mean, and I hope you come talk to us about it."

And then, the inevitable, "Mommy? Why don't you work at your job any more?"

Big breath. Silent introspection. Censoring. "You know how sometimes you feel like people are mean to you on the bus for no reason?"

"Yeah.."

"Well in the grown up world, people can be mean to you for no reason, and sometimes that means they won't let you work at your job any more. But that just means that I will go and find a better job that will make me a happier person, because I can't let mean people make me feel sad. Does that make sense?" (Lord, I'm blowing this...)

"Mommy, people were mean to you? I should get a whole pack of mean dogs and make them go bite them." (My thoughts exactly!!)

"I know. Sometimes people will make you think that way but...(and maybe here's where I'm going over his head...) we have to be better people than that. We may think bad thoughts, but we are good people and good people don't do that to other people, no matter what. We just take the lessons we've learned and find something better."

"Oh. Well don't people like that..who are mean to people for no reason...go to hell?"

"Yes honey, yes they do."

Okay, I'm not perfect. Sue me. It will be too soon before he realizes that life isn't fair. But bless their innocence while it lasts.