Take Me Out

This is Little Boy's 3rd season of playing baseball.  He was a little firecracker the first year we threw him in there.  He was the kid that when his turn at bat came, the other coach yelled "outfielders, back way up!" That always made feel so glad and proud.  The 2nd year was much the same. "CRACK!" and off he'd run.   Fierce in the T-ball/coach-pitch phase of his baseball career.  Not so much now.  Blame it on the kids now being the pitchers (they stink!). Blame it on all our military moves and dealing with new teams and new systems (no weekly practices!? What's that about?). Blame it on the couple years he took off to play soccer.  Or as Milli Vanilli mouthed, you could 'blame it on the rain that was falling falling' all season long interrupting countless games.  I don't know, blame it on something.  Just don't blame my kid 'cause I'm sensitive.

I am probably sensitively recalling my days in elementary school as a non-athlete.  I was a delicate thing, who when rotation demanded that I take my turn serving the volleyball, the PE teacher told me I could take 2 giant steps forward.  Even then, I was lucky to get it over the net.  And MAN did that hard ball hurt my poor wittle wrists!  (said like Tweedy Bird please).

My husband, T, can't relate at all- he was a little league champ year after year and ended up in the 'All-Stars.'  He played in high school and was also on the swim team.  Oh how I'd hoped that my kids would inherit his talents.  I think they did actually, but what they didn't inherit was a father who is around a lot to teach them.  (Ouch!  I know, there's that blaming).  Sorry sweetie!  

I also feel that baseball is a pretty psychological game.  When they are at bat with all eyes on them, it doesn't matter that they can hit it every time in practice.  Their little nerves get the best of them.  It was the same thing with Middle Boy, his older brother.  He'd hit home runs in practice but the entire season he wouldn't even swing during a game.  What is up with that!?  Nothing we could say made any difference. 

I made a poor parenting decision this year.  I was so sure that my Little Boy, (based on years one and two mind you), would be loving it once things fell into place that I told him to let me sign him up and if he didn't like it he could quit.  Well- he doesn't like it and his Dad won't let him quit.  I don't exactly want him to be a quitter either, but each game is like torture!  What to say... what to not say.  He is a champion walker, but I just know he has it in him.  If we go play as a family he hits things right and left.  It's amazing.  

I will try my best in the future not to make promises I can't keep.  And to discuss them with my spouse.  Little Boy lets me know each time he has to put on the cleats that I told him he could quit.  I am still torn.  Parenting is also a phycological game, have you noticed?
We are now in the playoffs (single elimination) and last night got rained out so tonight's make-up game approaches and I have two places to be at one time and no husband at home.  Clouds are forming.... What to do?  The excellent team they are up against has beaten us once and the last game we played against them (which was the last game played) we pulled ahead at the end and won.  It should be exciting.  But is my boy excited?  Nope! The only thing that gets him through is the promise of a donut at the end of the game.  Now there is a boy after my own heart!