My son, now nine years old, has been playing in a recreational soccer league for a couple of years. Since we started to play full field with soccer nets, our team has never won a game, although once we had a tie (1-1).

Our boys never game up. They keep coming back together to [...]]]>

My son, now nine years old, has been playing in a recreational soccer league for a couple of years. Since we started to play full field with soccer nets, our team has never won a game, although once we had a tie (1-1).

Our boys never game up. They keep coming back together to play. Last fall was pretty bad but they were all on board again this spring.

This week we received the “Good Sportsman” award for last fall’s season. After every game our team was rated and we received the highest score each time. When we were given the news, I think the parents all appreciated it. At least it was something. It’s difficult to see your kids out there losing every week. The kids did keep a good attitude.

One week we played a team with extremely obnoxious parents. They had black uniforms and called themselves “World Domination”. At the time, we didn’t know they had the best record. We held them off from scoring the entire first half but had no subs that week. By the second half our guys were exhausted. They wound up scoring ten points against us and the parents went crazy yelling every time. After six or so, you would think they would tone it down. It’s like rubbing it in our kids’ faces. We didn’t appreciate it. I was going to lead the dads over to “take them on” and several were ready to cross the field. We were only half kidding. We thought they were all jerks.

When our kids finally won a game (6-1) yesterday, we were cheering very loudly. Considering this team beat us last season, we had a major accomplishment. Something finally clicked with the team. Kids were playing different positions and my little guy was a forward. They were doing everything right. I couldn’t believe it! We were cheering loudly. We couldn’t help it. It just slipped out. Then we started to feel bad for the other team. Then we talked about how we were acting that that terrible World Domination team. Then a parent commented that he didn’t care, it felt so good to finally win! He joked that he was willing to give up the good sportsman award.

Who would have thought controlling our happiness would be harder than controlling our disappointment? Being a good sportsman was more difficult as a winner. As parents, we’re having just as much to learn as the kids. Hopefully we’ll have to continue to learn how to be good winners.

The build up to the holidays can be stressful without any extraneous situations. With all my might I tried not to be negative during the week before Christmas, but many forces conspired against me.

When you go out for a birthday or anniversary, do you tell the establishment?

Last Friday was our anniversary and we decided to go to 1789. Situated in a Federal period house in Georgetown, the restaurant has been one of the premiere dining experiences in Washington DC the entire 20 years I’ve lived in [...]]]>

When you go out for a birthday or anniversary, do you tell the establishment?

Last Friday was our anniversary and we decided to go to 1789. Situated in a Federal period house in Georgetown, the restaurant has been one of the premiere dining experiences in Washington DC the entire 20 years I’ve lived in the area. I’ve always wanted to go.

When you make a reservation with Open Table, you can put in a comment. So we noted we were celebrating our anniversary. The restaurant was spectacular about the occasion. When we walked in the door, the host and hostess welcomed us with a “Happy Anniversary!” then personalized menus wished us the same. When they brought our desserts, we had candles with little edible “Happy Anniversary” signs. They gave us a menu signed by Chef Giusti as a gift along with a card of well wishes. I was so pleasantly surprised with all the details.

After all the servers left, the couple next to us said it was their anniversary too. They were celebrating their 4th. The restaurant didn’t know.

We had acknowledged each other a couple of times but we were both engrossed in our own conversations. I wished they had been experiencing all the special little touches too. Our evening was magical and theirs was fine but could have been better.

Have you missed opportunities to share and make an experience better?

During a job interview a candidate seemed distant and distracted. We were uncertain but continued the process. After a follow up call, the candidate admitted she had been on the way to a funeral for a woman who had been like a mother to her, but wanted to keep her job interview. If she had shared this information at the time, the situation would have been better for everyone.

Whether or not to share the full-story of a situation can be a tough decision. Sometimes, as with our anniversary, we were in such high spirits about the occasion, it was difficult to keep it to ourselves. But even in a difficult situations, it’s worth taking a chance to trust and share.

When a friend announced my husband and I would be attending her party, another guest recognized his name. Thirty years ago her employer, a local bank, had received an unsolicited complimentary letter about her customer service. My husband, at age sixteen, had taken the time to pen that letter. All these years later, she has [...]]]>

When a friend announced my husband and I would be attending her party, another guest recognized his name. Thirty years ago her employer, a local bank, had received an unsolicited complimentary letter about her customer service. My husband, at age sixteen, had taken the time to pen that letter. All these years later, she has never forgotten his name.

My husband doesn’t remember writing the letter. To him it was nothing, a quick “thank you” to someone along the way. But obviously it meant a great deal to this teller.

When we met her this weekend while visiting my husband’s hometown, she was delighted to tell the story. At the time she was beginning her career. The letter made a great first impression. She joked that the bank never fired her. In all her years, no one else had taken the time to compliment her work in writing. His words have always been important to her.

We all know most people are quick to complain about service and don’t take the time to praise. We also know you can never tell how far reaching an act of kindness will be or how much of a lasting, positive impression you can make on someone’s life. What a gift to hear this story. Knowing makes all the difference.

People at the party marveled at a sixteen-year-old who would take the time to praise someone. They thought it took a very special person to be so giving and aware at a young age. I can’t agree more.

Our local community blog, RockvilleCentral.com, could easily become a place for quick and easy complaints. As Editor, I didn’t want a bad review of a restaurant to be posted. I prefer our contributors to write about the places they recommend to their friends. Now the blog policy means even more to me. I like knowing I’m encouraging people to take the time to make someone’s day.

So, act like a very special sixteen-year-old and acknowledge good service when you find it. Share the best in life.

For most families this would [...]]]> One night last week my husband explained that the car wouldn’t start. Since it was in the garage, I just left it there. The next day I jumped in the Jeep. Between piano lessons and soccer practice the Jeep wouldn’t start. How can both vehicles stop running at the same time?

For most families this would be a catastrophe but we have a Class B RV van and a classic ’72 Hurst, so I just grabbed another set of keys. After a few trips in the bulky RV and a realization that it didn’t fit in the school carpool lane, I went with the Hurst, which we call “Sylvester”.

Sylvester is great for Sunday drives as a family and perfect-weather evenings with the windows down. As it’s all white with gold racing strips, heads turn at every intersection. The front hood is soooo long and the V8 is mighty powerful. The attention from passerby is addictive. People wave and smile.

Both vehicles were in the shop for a week. The old car grew really old.

As I raced from appointment to pickup to practice, I kept glancing at the dashboard clock, except there is no dashboard clock. Honestly, I didn’t realize how much I look at the clock all day. Old cars don’t have cup holders either. In the morning my coffee mug was stuck between my legs and in the afternoon my bottle of green tea. Here’s the worst part, only an AM radio. Granted, I like news radio but not all the time, so I had to drive around with my ipod in my ears. Those little conveniences never meant anything to me. All the hoopla about cup holders always seemed ridiculous, but my perspective changed.

Each day I felt out of place. For some reason I was always a few minutes late. I had to keep using a key to open the doors. A key takes longer than a remote and the doors are more difficult to open. Sometimes the key needs to be jiggled to get the car started. Most of the time I didn’t have a reason for being late but everything was just slower. Since the car is so precious I had to drive carefully. Other drivers look at Sylvester and vere off in unexpected patterns. Driving requires more time and attention.

I had no idea that a vehicle could make such a difference. Day after day I felt out of sorts, cut off from my life. Your vehicle changes the way you feel. So for the first time in my life, I’m wondering what I could feel like behind the wheel of a different automobile.

I’ve never had a dream car. My dad bought me an old Duster with racing stripes and slated windows when I graduated from college but I was never fond of it. When I bought my first car my goal was dependability and price. The Buick Skyhawk looked cool in black but then the dealership called and reported that the car was discontinued in black. When we married, my husband and I bought a Jeep Cherokee because it felt right to both of us, rugged, ready to work. My husband picked out the current sedan and even though I knew it would wind up being mine when his commute as a professor ended, my only request was cutting-edge safety features for our new baby son.

Practical. I’ve always been practical. My recent week with Sylvester made me realize that cars can change the way you feel about yourself. Can a new life really be as easy as a new set of car keys? If it’s true I want a sports car, preferably a convertible. Sleek and fast for dodging around town. Ease and style would be at my fingertips in every suburban parking lot.

Although very powerful, our fine automobiles are not the only material thing capable of changing your day. Last year, I just felt down in the dumps when I rolled out of bed. Resisting the temptation to put on old baggy clothes to mirror my feelings, I grabbed a flattering outfit and put on the war paint. Down at the kid’s school, everyone responded to me with enthusiasm because I looked happy. I knew that if I was standing there dressed like I felt, nobody would have been cheery.

All the world’s a stage. My son is going to be the prince in Cinderella. He’s very upset because they are stuck with the forest set from the preceding play. He wants a castle. He wants the right props. Without them, it just won’t be the same.

Our everyday lives can also benefit from the right scenery. Brandishing the props – cars or clothes – can set the stage for success but really it’s all about your attitude. The way you feel is the way people will respond. These things shouldn’t matter but we’re human in a material world.

The convertible will make me feel just fine.

Boy oh boy, a happy age in a happy year! Things were [...]]]> Last week I turned 44 years old. My good friend, Amy, a statistician, decided that she would mathematically prove that being 44 was happy because somehow it all came down to the number 1. Then she proved 2008 was also a happy number 1.

Boy oh boy, a happy age in a happy year! Things were looking up.

Then she sadly had to admit to the entire email list that she had made a mathematical error. All my friends then knew I was in for an unhappy year because both were 2′s instead, and 2 is apparently a very, very bad number.

BUT, two is my lucky number! When I was a little kid I won a prize at the Sportsman show in the Catskills, NY with the number 2! The first time I had ever won anything. It was immediately my lucky number. Several years later at a carnival I had the overwhelming feeling that the number 2 was going to win on the spin wheel. I ran with all my might across the fairgrounds and threw my quarter on the board landing squarely in the number 2 space. Sure enough, the wheel spun and I won a big stuffed animal. I know 2 is lucky for me and I know when it is lucky for me.

I put the whole thing out of my mind. Then my friend, Trish, emails me that she just heard on the radio that people are the most unhappy when they are 44. After 44 is over, then they are fine again. Contrary to this report she said I seemed really happy lately. There must be something wrong with me.

Has everyone gone insane? I tried to google “radio unhappy 44″ but couldn’t find a written report. Is EVERYONE determined to convince me that I am going to be unhappy this year. I refuse. I hate when anyone tells me what to do.

But finally she sent me the link: http://abcnews.go.com/Health/Depression/story?id=4208216&page=1 I always thought it was in your 50′s but apparently my recent observations of everyone in their 40′s going off the deep end is correct. They surveyed 2 million people to discover that the midlife crisis occurs in your 40′s and people are at their most depressed when 44 years old.

I don’t like the number 3. I’m glad to be the Double Four. I’ve even got this great “Double Four” nickname for this year. I’m going to have an even better year than usual just to prove everyone wrong. Then maybe I’ll be depressed.