Little League Natitude

It's mid-July now but my blog is still living on June-time. Ooops.

Every June, Charlie's little league offers discounted tickets to a Nats game - in the highest, furthest seats in the house - and it's always been one of our favorite traditions. We buy up 8 tickets and go with our besties, the Allens. We fill up on beer, Jenny and I share soft pretzels and the guys down Ben's Chili Bowl dogs and the kids insist that we wait in the huge line for Dippin' Dots. And as is custom with home-played Sunday games, after the game, the kids run the bases high-fiving all the President mascots. It is always such a fun day!

Sadly, this year was a bit different than our usual routine. The Allens moved to Louisiana just two days before this game, so we went solo. Boo. :( And due to all the rain this season, the Nats had to make up a game with a double header so the kids running the bases was cancelled. But, on the brighter side, this was the first year that Henry did not freak out and monkey-cling to me the entire game.


Doesn't get any higher than the 400 level! BALLERS!!! :)

I have to be honest. My very first taste of a Ben's Chili Bowl dog was a bite off Mike's at a game a few weeks before this one. It was amazing -- even though I'm told it doesn't count as my first because it wasn't from the original place on U street. Feigning over that one bite, I got my very own at this game and it was totally delicious. Although, I forgot to get napkins. Fail. And a knife and fork. Fail. And I ordered it without mustard which is not "all the way". Fail. And I couldn't eat it all. Fail.

Thanks to my girl, Siri, I got in some reverse camera shots! Hey, look! It's me with my favorites!!

Why is Charlie cheering??? The Nats had just scored their sixth run which hooked us up with 6 free wings per ticket at Hard Times Cafe! YAY! Charlie's favorite!!

What do you do when you're three at a major league game?? Climb all over the seats, of course! And be adorable.

The Dippin' Dots. Always the Dippin' Dots.

Since it was the little league's game, most of Charlie's team was there which meant Charlie had lots of friends to hang with. He even spent some time sitting next to his awesome Coach.

I think it's virtually impossible for 9 year old boys to make sweet, smiling faces at the camera.

NATS WIN!!!! Go Nats!!!

And more of Henry being adorable!

The Scrappers: Our 2013 Spring Baseball Season

My hubby usually signs up as assistant coach for Charlie's sports teams. I love this. Since my hubby puts in lots of work hours, it gives Mike and Chuck specific, set aside, and special time together -- and it means I don't have to go to all of the practices and games. :) Which are long. And often.

This spring was cold. And I hate the cold. So, I ended up pawning an unusually large sum of the sports-related parenting to Mike, and didn't catch as many of the games as I normally do. Towards the end of the season, I realized if I didn't get my butt in gear, I'd have no pictures!!

One of the first games I made it to (aside from Charlie's pitching game) was a make-up game against the only undeafeated team in the league. AND WE BEAT THEM! Which gave us a chance to make it into the playoffs! All of a sudden I was kicking myself for slacking in my attendance. The games were fun! And Charlie was playing so well! And Henry wasn't nearly as hard to watch as he was last year! SCORE!!!


Trucks, dirt and watching big bro at bat! The life of a toddler at big brother's baseball games!

He also picked up ticks at every.single.game. this year. Which, of course, made me insane. I hate ticks. And they love the flippin' baseball fields. And chomping on Henry's itty bitty toddler parts. So gross.



Last year's spring season, we had to tempt Charlie with promises of a Dairy Queen ice cream cone if he'd get just one hit during a game. This year, that kid was getting himself a hit practically every time he got up to bat. Friggin' Dairy Queen, man. That's some seriously powerful motivation.

I was so proud, and quite surprised, by how much he had improved since this same time last year. As much as I jokingly say that DQ is the reason, I think it really has so much to do with his Dad's presence as a coach. They have such a bond over baseball. This is something a mom, at least ME as a mom, cannot give to Charlie. Mostly because they still make fun of me for not having a clue what is going on during the games. I have to ask a lot of questions. But I'm so glad it's something they share. And something Mike excels at as a Dad. Sports is so his thing. And now it's their thing. Adorable.



And then, all too quickly, we had finished out the regular season and were playing our first playoff game.

By this point, I was SO into it! I was so pumped up! So excited! I wanted them to win!! I wanted it for Mike. I wanted it for Charlie. I wanted it for all those kids who were playing their best. I wanted them to win just one playoff game. Just one.

That first playoff game was intense. For most of the game, we were winning. EVERY parent was standing up, pacing. Cheering. Clenching teeth. Leaning against the fence. We ALL wanted it for our kids.

And somewhere in the 4th, the other team caught up to our lead. Then in the 5th, we didn't score any runs. And they took it in the 6th. {Charlie read this over my shoulder and wanted me to make sure that I wrote that he got a double during this game, hee hee}

It. Was. Heartbreaking.

But I couldn't stop myself from photographing that last team talk from the coaches. Those Dads were truly upset. They wanted it too. They had worked hard along side those kids all season. I just think it's unbelievably amazing that these men take so much time out of their own lives - leaving work early several nights a week, dedicating Saturdays and sometimes Sundays, too - to support, teach and coach other people's kids. It's guys like these that make a difference in children's lives. It is so generous. And for that, it was hard to watch them have to close out the season on a loss.

And one last "hands in" cheer for the Scrappers. Who played their hearts out.

And that's the true measure of winners.

Also, guys. The light. Swoon.

The Baseball Boost

I've been doing this mommy-stuff for a really long time. I've been doing it since before there were DVRs, kindles, iPads and iPhones... heck, before iPods. Before there was Facebook (heck, before MySpace), I was a mommy. I was a young mommy - doing it grassroots style - with no other mommy friends to watch or ask questions. I had a book or two that I decided to faithfully ignore and my own gut instinct, which I faithfully followed. 

I've always been incredibly proud of how well I've done as a mom. When you have a baby young, and clearly not exactly on purpose, no one expects you to be such a parenting badass. But I have been. I am a really good mom. Nailed it.

So far.

Here's the catch. Mommyhood is fluid. It is an ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-flowing path. The second you feel like you've done something right (or wrong, and then worked to make it right again), the little buggers have holes in their new jeans and outgrown shoes and you're staring down the path at a whole new adventure. So, here I am... a mommy veteran... coursing the ship into new, unchartered waters... again.

My baby, my baaaaaaaaaby, is growing up. He's nine. NINE!!!!! Parenting is now so much more than cuddles and teaching the alphabet and watching your language and convincing them to eat a vegetable...

I am building confidence. Instilling values. Educating right from wrong. Promoting the importance of a solid, well-rounded education. Teaching empathy, spirituality, and gulp... all the changes in the growing human body. But more than anything else, I am trying so, so, so hard to do whatever I can now to make sure he doesn't turn into the kind of teenager who doesn't care at all about any of this and turns into a conforming, peer-pressure-caving idiot in 4 years. There is just so much at stake.

Parenting a nine year old is causing me to question every move I make... Is it the right one?? Is what I'm doing now helping or hurting?? Is he going to remember this moment when someone offers him a cigarette??

Two weeks ago, the moment was there.

Chuck was assigned the pitching position in his baseball game. He's never been assigned to pitch before. This is his third season with kid-pitch innings and even though I'm pretty sure that the rules state that every kid is supposed to play every position at least once, he's never been up to the mound. Competitive Daddy coaches... ?

Charlie is little. He's perfect in every way. But he's little. He hasn't developed his little chicken wing  for pitching yet. Lord, we've JUST finally gotten him to get consistent hits at bat. So... I was worried. I was mama-worried that he'd get up to the mound and he would suck. 

And he did. He did suck.

Fuck. Bad words.

I was stuck there behind the fence just watching. I couldn't step in. I couldn't rush out and pep talk him. I couldn't hold his arm and go through the movement of the pitch with him. I couldn't tell him that it would be ok. I couldn't tell the coach to pull him and put another kid up there. I just had to sit there... and watch while all the confidence he's gained in the game slowly melted away as the other team walked 6 guys...

But, then, finally, it was over. As he walked off the mound and towards his dugout, I saw the tears coming through on his face. I hopped the fence and I grabbed him tight.

Surprisingly, without any real thought about what I was going to say at all, all the right things you say to a kid who just sucked at pitching in front of a bunch of people came out. And as I was saying it, as I was holding him tight, wiping tears and using my strong mama-voice to remind him that he did his very best on his very first time and that everyone sucks at their first time of anything - Verlander's first pitch sucked - and that practice would make him better and that I love him and getting up there and working hard was whats most important, I could feel that I might just have a fighting chance at doing this right.

At least for that moment, I had nailed it.

Fall Ball

We've got baseball on the brain here lately! My husband is a die-hard Detroit Tigers fan so we have been blessed with some amazing baseball on our TV lately! It's great to see them headed to the World Series!!!

Closer to home, we are spending a good chunk of our weeks watching big man C playing with the Express, his fall ball little league team.

And a few instas from the game:

Chuck's not the best baseball player. Actually, he isn't good at all. He's blessed with a huge brain, is incredibly imaginative and creative and has aspirations to be an inventor when he grows up. I'd much rather raise a Steve Jobs over a Justin Verlander so the lack of baseball skills doesn't bother me. What's important is that even though he's not the best, he still likes to play. When I was an unathletic child, I hated playing sports for the very reason that I sucked. I don't know how this kid keeps finding the nerve to go out every game, strike out, and then play again the next week. But I'm totally proud of him that he does. Perseverance is one of the best character traits to possess. So, in my opinion, Charlie kicks ass at life.

Today Chuck played catcher. Mike gets mad at me for saying this... but when he puts on the catcher gear, I think it's the cutest thing EVER! (Apparently, it's not cute - it's manly - and I'm not supposed to say 'awwwwww!' when he walks out in catcher gear). It just seems like such an important position!! I remember going to my cousin's baseball games when I was younger and he played catcher. I find it so strange to now be watching my son - my baby - putting on a ton of gear and being in charge of catching a pitch.


A really fun part of today's game was that Henry was entertained by a whole bunch of other people. Henry ran to the adjacent soccer field and joined all the other kids playing out there. Score for minimal parental duties!!! I sat in my chair, watched the game and played on my phone (ummmm, heaven!!!!). My kids may not be blessed athletes, but they certainly are social butterflies. Neither of them have ever met a person they couldn't charm.

I turned around to check on Henry at one point and I saw that he had stopped playing with the other little brothers and sisters and instead had found -- a teenager. Yup, my adorable two year old can charm even the older ladies... (Also, let's take a minute to digest how gorgeous the fall trees are right now. Amazing!!!)