Today I will be heading to the NFL Combine in Indianapolis. As a member of the Heads Up Football Advisory Committee, I will also be there to work on initiatives aimed at keeping youth football players safe in the game.
I’m super excited to be involved in youth sports and of course to see all of the up and coming soon-to-be professional football talent before they head to The League next season.
I’m dramatically less excited to be visiting the Midwest during the winter. Especially when we are looking at temperatures in the mid 50s at home this weekend. When there’s at least 8 of the 20 inches of snow that fell last week still muddying up my yard, fifty degrees is gonna feel like beach weather.
And when I return it will probably snow.
I’ve promised my children that I won’t do anything to intentionally embarrass them while I’m repping the family at the combine, meaning I won’t bum rush any players and ask them to bench press me. Never mind that it’s a lifelong dream of mine, to be bench pressed. By a football player. While eating an ice cream cone.
Apparently, life’s not all about me and my dreams anymore. And, I have to be cognizant of The Dudes’ wishes. Like a grown up, responsible mother.
However, should I be randomly approached by a football player who just so happens to also have an ice cream cone in hand, and asked to submit myself to a bench pressing then it is well within my rights as a human being to allow that experience. Even if ESPN is on hand to broadcast that out to the nation.
Also, in fairness, I am most likely, in any situation, to unintentionally embarrass myself and every person who knows me.
It’s part of my charm.
School Bans Yoga Pants
In news of ridiculous things that make me question the sensibilities of people who are expected to be sensible, I have had actual dreams of leading a sit in or a walk out or, um, a collective throat punching at the school that banned yoga pants and leggings earlier this week.
It annoys me because since when is it my fault, as a chick with a banging booty, that Dudes can’t focus when I’m around? And, why do girls have to be responsible for boys and their inability to get their heads in the learning game when they are just hanging around in their yoga pants.
Why? Why? Why, America?
They aren’t wearing hooker heels. They aren’t going braless. They are wearing YOGA PANTS. Poor fashion choice though they may be, banning them seems unnecessary.
And, just take a moment to think back to high school. Girls could’ve shown up in sweat pants and hoodies (some of us did) and boys would still be distracted. Because 16 year old boys are easily distracted by 16 year old girls, never mind what they’re wearing.
I recommend we, in support of yoga pants wearing girls everywhere, make tomorrow yoga pants day. Oh wait, never mind, I’m sure many of you would argue that every day is yoga pants day!
Finally, let’s check out what’s up in Blog Land this week…
As a former teacher and current parents, I am in love with this post at Sluiter Nation about being a teacher that doesn’t assign homework. At least not the kind most of us are used to.
As a wife, I loved this response from Stephanie Dulli to this article at the Huffington Post. Steph refers to it as wife shaming, I refer to it as girl, you so crazy. Either way, I’m with Steph on this one. My husband isn’t a baby and I don’t intend to treat him like one because if I did he for sure wouldn’t be getting any booty. Babies don’t make booty calls, they can’t even use phones.
And finally, as a mother, I want to share with you the truth about play dates. Yes, I hate them. Passionately. But, I have them and generally I survive. Hopefully the tips in this post will help you do the same.