Totally Smitten Mama: Ruck, Maul, Pillage and Burn

Lena and I met at a Smith College Rugby party in the fall of 1998. Lena was a "Rugger," and I was an enthusiastic fan. The beginning months of our relationship were centered around the all-encompassing Rugby culture and the community of friends that came with it. The rugby games themselves were quite a scene, but the "drink-ups" that followed were totally insane. Dirty, sweaty women would gather in the basements of dorms, drink large quantities of beer and sing "rugby songs," which were strangely reminiscent of the songs I'd sung at camp as a kid, but with a lot more sex and profanity mixed in. I don't remember many of the lyrics (and honestly, I'm not sure I knew that many at the time), but I do remember feeling totally impressed by all of it.

That's my tiny Lena love in the middle.

There are some things from our Rugby days that have managed to stay with us through the years. For instance, whenever a player would score a touch-down during the game, she would later have to "shoot the boot" at the drink-up. Lena scored one once, which was surprising since her position (the "hooker") wasn't typically a touch-down type of position (clearly, I know so much about this game). And I was there when she chugged beer out of someone's cleat that afternoon, to the sound of everyone chanting, "shoot, shoot the boot!" We have a cowboy boot-shaped shot glass, and we use it to give the boys herbal tinctures mixed with a small amount of lemonade. It's the perfect size, really. And while they drink it, we chant, "shoot, shoot the boot!" And they love it.

The other lasting rugby influence in our current lives is the Smith Rugby team cheer that they'd say before taking the field: "We're gonna ruck, maul, pillage and burn, we're gonna ruck, maul pillage and burn eat the babies!" Yes, that's right, Eat The Babies. And I feel like this cheer pretty much sums up our mothering experience some days. Here we are, eating the babies: