But first, hockey. 3-2 shootout win yesterday afternoon against the Mighty Oilers of Edmonton. We had a short-handed goal in the third to go up 2-1, allowed that slip to 2-2, then had a key penalty kill in overtime to force the shootout, where Backstrom was a wall. Blocked four shots before we could get the game winner. It's an especially important win because we're neck and neck with the Oilers in the division. Plus, we have a brutal March ahead of us...something like 17 games, only four of which are at home.
Brutal.
Anyway, back to Sophie. She's been hard to contain lately. She's not awful, but is prone to not listening to us. That's all well and good, and I'm happy to let a five-year-old girl be a five-year-old girl, but she was particularly bad pretty much all of yesterday, which led to some stern punishment. When talking with her about why she's behaving this way lately, she said it's because "I want to be good, but my brain tells me to do bad things."
"It's not telling you to clean the guns, is it?" I asked.
Of course, I didn't really ask that. No point in planting that seed. But I'm conflicted with her response. On one hand, she's already turning over her bad behavior to something she sees as being beyond her control. On the other hand, hey! She gets that the brain controls emotion and drives her actions and responses!
My take is that her life has just become a bit too routine...day care, home, day care, home day care, home. So, when we go someplace out of the norm, the excitement and energy overwhelm her. The way to combat this, of course, is to break the routine, so we'll try to get her into more stuff. The problem, of course, is that I'm not home until 8:00 each night, and there's just no money there for gymnastics classes or swimming classes or gun safety classes. So, we'll see what we can pull off.
Oh, and we did take her to see Coraline on Saturday in 3D. Wonderful movie, and although some of it seemed to be over Sophie's head, she enjoyed herself. My favorite, though, were the stereotypically obese, redneck Steelers fans sitting behind us who felt it appropriate to shout out "chicken shit" in front of their own children and mine. God, I love Steelers fans. There may be more of them in this country than for any other team, but their collective IQ level has to be well below that of the offensive line of the Houston Texans.
QB avoids a sack to scramble for two yards.
Life's ball: 2nd and 8 on their own 49.
Huge plumbing bills I know about. Parenting I know nothing about. Football fans of every team are more similar than different, of this I'm certain. I have little; my Grammy bet of Plant/Krauss to win Album at 4-1 was a good score, I did a ton of blogging and always feel like that works to the good. My student evaluations went as customary. A solidly positive stretch is enough to force a punt - Life tries a draw on 3rd and 4 - and I pretty cleanly stuff it. They've got 4th and 4 on their own 37 and will presumably punt it away.
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