July 8, 2014
Our Baseball Summer
As I drove to work this morning I recalled the summer of 2009, when it was just me and the kids. I hadn't yet bought my house and was commuting almost 30 minutes to work every day. At that time I wanted the boys to get involved in something recreational. They were going through a divorce, too, so I wanted to keep them occupied and active. Yes, church - in fact twice on Sundays most weeks. But I wanted them to use up some energy on sports. So I signed them up for our youth baseball association that spring.
Trevor was 8 and Andrew was 6. They were tiny.
Gosh I still remember the evening Andy FINALLY cracked the ball with his bat instead of striking out. All of the parents stood and cheered for him. And seeing him take his turn as catcher was so darling I could barely stand it.
I found a blog post I wrote about being exhausted then. Makes me smile now.
Mabel was only a year old and everywhere. And honestly, it was my first adventure into schlepping all of us to something scheduled, maintaining a baby's attention, trying to photograph the action, and cheering two other kids on. Thank the Lord they were both on the same team!
I remember that practice was on one weeknight and their games on another. That made two weeknights I had to get from work to the babysitters to get them, and then drive the 25 miles to the complete opposite side of town through rush hour to the baseball complex. Dinner became a pain in the ass so I packed for all of us in the morning and took it to work with me. About ten minutes before I left for the day I would go upstairs, take half of my kitchen out of the fridge, and make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (only jelly for my Roo) or cold cut sandwiches for all of us. I took bags of apples, bottles of water, and goldfish to keep Mabel happy. And then it was a race to get them, get them both fed and changed into baseball uniforms in the car while remaining seatbelted at all times, and get them there on time. With Mabel shouting. But I did it.
It was a race to afford it to begin with, to get their cleats - which were donated by friends - and their uniforms. But I did it.
I felt scatterbrained and yet fully in control. I was doing it.
I had been acting as a single mother for several years already so that wasn't new. But kicking ass at it? That took some practice. And I did it. God helped me.
I'm so grateful of the obstacles God gave me the strength to both overcome and appreciate. What amazingly great memories for this mama.