Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Because I can

"Why do you stay?" one of the other moms said to me at my middle son's baseball practice the other night, after I told her I'd drive her son home if she was leaving.

"He likes me to watch...and...it seems like by the time we got home, I'd only have a little while before I'd have to interrupt the other two to rally them back into the car...I don't know, really...mainly the watching, I guess. And we all brought our gloves..." I didn't have my elevator pitch down pat, obviously.

We did bring our gloves and a couple of balls that seem to roll around in our car regularly these days. And a Nintendo DS or two, and a bunch of snacks. And books. There was plenty to do. And my cell phone reception isn't that great at the ballfield, so at least I wouldn't be doing much of anything electronic.

It was 6:00 p.m., not too buggy out, and my oldest (with much eye rolling) and I coaxed my youngest out of the car to play catch. It worked just fine for a while until my oldest got impatient and decided he'd go hang out in the dugout with his brother's team, but not before instigating a boy spat by taunting his brother, who threw his glove, stomped over to it, threw it again, stomped again, on an on until he was sitting with his back against the fence pouting. I rolled the ball over to him and it landed next to his glove.

"I don't wanna play anymore, Mom!" he insisted. "I stink at this game!"

"You don't stink. Everyone has to start somewhere! Practice makes perfect!"

He gave me the angry eyebrows.

"Okay, you want to go sit in the car? We can have a snack and watch the practice."

I am trying to help my youngest understand and like baseball so that when we go to local Minor League games it will be fun for him.

I opened the cooler and saw that my middle son had forgotten to take his water bottle. I asked my youngest if he'd go bring it to my oldest in the dugout. "What's a dugout, mom?" That was one of our lessons that night.

For the remainder of the hour-and-a-half practice, my youngest and I hung out in the car together. He played his brother's DS games and I leafed through a magazine. We talked intermittently.

So, why do I stay? Because, for now, I can.

It's the same reason I brought my oldest's clarinet to school yesterday when he forgot it.

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