Tag: Softball

My baby turns 13!

Leave a comment

How is it that my little pumpkin girl is turning 13? It seems just a breath away that I was walking down the street calling Jon to announce our pregnancy. I was at the corner of Grandview and Third when Jon answered his cell phone.

He had traveled out of town that weekend to hang with his best friend, Paul. He answered the phone and I think we made chit chat for a minute. I can’t recall exactly how I brought up the pregnancy but I do recall the reaction, pure silence.

There were a lot of “oh my gosh” statements after the silence – a symbol of both joy and fear. We were having a baby! What the heck would happen once we had a baby? We are pregnant! How the heck were we going to handle a newborn?

I recall the first three months of morning sickness. I sat at my desk at Carlile Patchen, and stared into my computer screen hoping that the nausea would subside. I craved giant-sized hamburgers. I longed for chocolate and pickles. The thought of toothpaste made me want to throw up. It was so strange to have all of these sensations. My belly did not start to expand until about the fifth month of pregnancy. It was only then that I could show off my little baby bump. I would rub that bump as if the more rubbing I did, the healthier you would be.

It was around that time that Jon and I found out the sex of our little nugget. I swore I would have a boy. I have always been a tomboy, always been aggressive, loved my sports, and hated dresses. I was positive the universe would deliver a boy to me. I also figured Jon would want a boy even though he kept saying the cliche-ish line “I don’t care what sex it is as long as it is healthy. ” I laid on the table while the nurse pressed the wand hard against my belly. She moved it around and around and finally asked us if we were ready to learn the sex.

YES!

“You have a girl. ”

How was that possible?! How could my testosterone-laden body produce a girl? Whereas I was in shock, Jon was not. He took it all in stride – happy as a peach to have a baby girl. I, however, had major trepidation. That would mean we would have a mother/daughter relationship. Heaven help me. I had past experience with a mother/daughter relationship and it was a struggle. I remember calling my mom to announce that we were having a girl. Her reaction: “oh.” We both must have still harbored a bit of PTSD from my teenage years.

It took a while to get used to the thought of having a girl. I remember walking Cy, our dog at the time, and thinking “how will I ever love a human being as much as I love my loyal pup?” What was my problem?! Yet, although those thoughts went through my head, I still spent countless hours rubbing my expanding belly and listening to Free To Be on any car trip I took.

And then the day came. I went into the doctor’s office for my 9 AM appointment after I had taken a 3 mile run and lifted weights earlier that morning. My doctor performed her weekly exam. While she felt around, she poked her head up.

“You are going to have a baby today.”

What?! I was not having any contractions; I did not feel weird at all. Wasn’t there supposed to be some big revelation that I felt the baby was coming? I called Jon on my way home and told him that we were having a baby. His reaction was the same as mine had been. I arrived home and told Jon I was going to take Cy on a quick walk. He thought I was crazy, but he allowed me to do it (he knows me all too well). We got to the hospital around 11 AM; by that time, I was starting to feel some contractions. They felt like mild cramps, nothing to worrisome. The doctor checked me out around noon, and asked if I wanted to break my water to speed up the process. By that time, my mom had arrived from Cincinnati. We decided to go for it. It was not 20 minutes later that I was sitting on my green yoga ball pushing myself back-and-forth from the hospital bed. The contractions were getting worse. Breathe, Breathe. Breathe. That is all I could hear. It began to hurt worse and worse. But I was in it for the long run with you, baby girl. I wanted to feel every single ache. And boy, did I. There was a period of time where I was on my hands and knees rocking back-and-forth and feeling like I would not be able to survive another minute. Then the contractions would calm down a bit and I’d be able to breathe. But then they would start right back up and I would want to cry. Jon and my mom championed me through it right by my side. Finally, the nurses told me I could turn over and start pushing. What a relief. I pushed so hard, so quickly that I busted all of the blood vessels in my face. I wanted you out! I got to see the top of your head in the mirror and I could not believe it. There you were. All of that belly rubbing produced this little pipsqueak. I pushed one final push and before I knew it, I was holding your little 7 pound body in my arms. What a day.

The politically correct thing to say next is I fell completely and totally in love with you in that moment. Not so much. It took a while to absorb that intense bond between mother and child. At first, as I stared at you while she slept, I felt too many emotions to feel that deep connection. Would I do alright as a mom? Would you love me back? Were you getting all your nutrients? Craziness. And the questions running through my head! Why weren’t you taking my milk? Why didn’t you want to snuggle on my chest rather than move all around in every direction? Why did you have to get up every hour?!

As I became more confident in my role as a mother and you clocked in a greater amount of time on this earth, the connection clicked. My heart exploded with love and adoration for my baby girl, and I swallowed up all of you. And then, there was no turning back. I loved seeing you round, buddha face in the morning (even when you kept me up all night). I could not wait to get out of work and pick you up. I loved taking you on long walks, and having you touch the bark of different trees or smell the scent of different flowers. I couldn’t wait to walk up to Stauf’s with you on the weekend, and have everyone fawn over how cute you were.

I would read the book, Someday, to you nearly every night. The mother in the book watches her daughter grow up, and expresses has hopes and dreams for her daughter along the way. I would tear up every time I read it. One night when you were in preschool, I finished reading it and had those tears in my eyes. You looked up at me as you sat on my lap in that yellow rocking chair. You had tears down your little buddha face.

How biased I was to assume I would have a boy because I had so much testosterone and hated dresses? Sure enough, you were known as “the muscle” at preschool because you would defend some of the timid kids when kids were picking on them. Don’t mess with my girl; she will put you on her place. Heck, you are able to pick up your mom without a problem (there is no doubt your physical dominance is directly from your mom and dad).

You continue to want to be a daredevil. One of the presents you asked for your 13th birthday is a hot air balloon ride. You also asked to skydive (you know your mother will not agree to that) and bungee jump (no way). You will try anything. We love your intrepid spirit.

You continue to forge friendships with a wide array of people. Girls that love sports; girls that love boys; girls that love video games; and even boys. You get along with anybody and everybody that crosses your path.

You love to hug people. You sometimes even ask to hug a family friend you just met. You have no fear of jumping into any conversation. We love your willingness to embrace.

You are the goofiest, dork of a girl at times. You are not scared to make fun of yourself. You are not scared to act like a total fool around people. We absolutely love this about you. The more self-assured you are, the better it will be as you get older. Keep that goofiness about you and do not care what other people think.

You love school this year, as always. You love broadcasting in the mornings, hanging out with your friends, and going to your sporting events and practices. You loved your softball season with the bus rides to and from softball games. You are easy-going and spirited.

Quite simply, Ri, you are a great kid. Dad and I hit the jackpot with you as our first born. You have given us immense joy, and we know that you are going to knock this world out as you continue to get older.

Happy 13th, love!

Mom and Dad

Fractured nose but not spirit 

Leave a comment

And she took one to the nose on Sunday. The Universe had given her a break on blows to the head but decided she needed one to the slope of cartilage and bone on her heart-shaped face. Oh, my poor girl. But, as with everything, she took it like a champ.

Ri had not wanted to go to her softball double-header on Sunday morning. She has gotten really into soccer this season, and wants to concentrate all of her efforts on that sport. But Jon and I told her that she had committed to fall ball, and therefore, needed to finish out the season. In any case, there were only three more doubleheaders to play before the season ended. She obliged us and left in good spirits with Jon at 9:30 am for her games. 

I arrived near the end of the first game to see her get a hit to shortstop and thrown out at first. She walked over to where John and I were standing, and gave me a hug. “Did you see my hit, mom?” I told her that I had seen it and Jon chimed in that she got an earlier hit and made it to first. With those congratulated her and told her to get back over with her team. She rolled her eyes amusingly and skipped back over to her teammates. John left after the first game but not before getting her a big hug and telling her he loved her. Ri was excited because they had small packages of Pringles for snacks between the games. She sat with her teammates enjoying her sour cream and onion chips. 

Game two began shortly after the girls finished their snacks. I sat on the bleacher bench next to some friends. We were talking about the latest and greatest news and podcasts when someone yelled out “Maria got hit.” I looked out into left field and there she was curled up in a ball with five people surrounding her. I did not jump up immediately with the hopes that they were taking care of her and she was fine. But then someone said to me “she is bleeding pretty good, she may need her mom.” I hopped up and rushed out to see her. When I arrived, I saw a large pool of blood in the grass and four large washcloths soaked with my baby’s blood. It was coming out of her nostrils and from a gash on the top of her nose. Luckily, my girlfriend is a nurse and was able to both control the bleeding and calm Ri down. We were finally able to walk her off the field with washcloths under her nose to catch the continued bleeding. Once we hit the bathroom, the bleeding had slowed to the point Ri could hold a cloth up to her nose and it would not be drenched within seconds. She was so upset. I just knew she was cussing me out for making her go to the game. I was cussing myself out because now look at us – we were going to have to spend the entire day in the hospital and who knows if she’d play soccer again. Was there a way to turn back time?



Everybody was so helpful in gathering up Ri’s things and getting her to my car. We zoomed along the highway to the Utgent Care. Ri was so nervous; she did not want to get stitches. The girl who loves shots was worried about a few stitches.  The mind is a wondrous thing. She did not care at all about how she looked, all she cared about was not having to get those darn stitches. The team of medical folks got us in fairly quickly but then we waited for the doctor for quite some time.  I needed something to keep Maria’s mind occupied so we looked at the history of Elena on Instagram. Maria could do that once a day and never tire of it.


The doctor finally strolled in and took a look at Maria. She was friendly and answered all of Maria’s questions. The first question being “will I need stitches?” She answered the way Maria wanted her to with a resounding “no.” It was as if Maria had been carrying 100 pound weights on her shoulders and someone had lifted them off her. She felt around Maria’s face and neck and looked into her nose, and declared that she did not think it was broken. Thank goodness! She gave us direction on how to care for her nose over the coming weeks, and did talk about the possibility of a scar where her gash was located. Ri could have cared less about anything she was saying – not about the scar, not about any  deformity – all she cared about was that there was no stitches. 

We were excited to be able to leave. Maria had a date with her girlfriend to hold puppies that had just been born three weeks ago (Maria was addicted to them, and had spent most of the weekend holding them with her girlfriend). I was hoping to hit the tail end of Mario’s football game. 

But then the door creaked open, and the doctor poked her head inside. “I am going to have to order an x-ray just to make sure her nose is not broken. They should be in soon to get her.” My stomach dropped. I kept thinking “if the doctor did not think it was broken then she is most likely correct, right?” Oh, I did not want Ri to deal with a broken nose. Ri, true to form, was only concerned about those stitches. She asked whether a broken nose would require stitches. 

We got the x-ray and waited. About 45 minutes later, the doctor walked back in the room. She was smiling – that’s a good thing, right? As she smiled, she told us that Maria did have a fracture in her nose. Seriously? How are you going to smile while getting that news? While I viewed about the disjuztaposition of the doctor’s cues, Maria asked her “well I need stitches?” The doctor answered in the negative, which is all Maria I needed to hear. I could hear her on the inside saying “who cares if I have a broken nose, if my nose will be out of whack, if I have a huge scar, all I want is for no stitches!”

I felt a bit of a relief when the doctor informed us that the fracture may very well heal on its own. She thought that there was more of a chance that it would heal on its own then we would have to get surgery. That was the best I was going to do for the day and so I took it and ran with it. And so they came in and cleaned up Maria’s gash, gave us some tips on treatment, and told us to continue to keep an eye on the shape of her nose as the swelling went down. 


Maria made jokes on our way home, and begged to go to her friend’s house to see the puppies. You would not of thought that she just suffered a broken nose. Later in the evening, when she returned from her friends house, she did start to feel a little puny. I gave her Tylenol and a massage. She was asleep by 8:45 PM. When I came downstairs, I found a get-well note signed by her teammates as well as the $5 bounty the coach gives to the player that played best during the game. I also received a delivery of frosted animal crackers from Ri’s girlfriend (she knows Ri well). After times like these, I am always reminded of how great of friends Ri and I have in the community. 


The next morning, Ri woke up in a great mood. Surprisingly, and who’s had not swelled up beyond belief. It was definitely better but not as big as Jon and I thought it would be. She begged to play in her soccer game that evening but Jon and I nixed it. She was mad at first but then reasoned “if I can’t play 100%, then I really don’t want to play anyway.”  She sent me s text during the day informing me that her nose “didn’t look that bad.” She partied it up with her teammates on the bus ride to the soccer game and wanted to stay to watch the boys play after her game. She likes to ride the bus home with her teammates and the boys soccer team because they sing and act silly. She could’ve cared less that she had a big old broken nose going on. 


She came waltzing through the door at 8:30 at night singing and laughing and yelling “what’s up??” I asked how the game was and she explained that they lost. She said at one point somebody was complaining that they had a headache and she said “I looked at them and said ‘I feel your pain girl, look at this nose of mine!'” Damn, how I love our girl’s self-deprecating style. she can roll with some serious punches. I am not quite sure that Mario or many other kids would have such a great sense of humor and positive attitude in the same circumstance. 

But let’s not find out anytime soon. 

Summer angst 

Leave a comment

Every summer I tell myself that I am going to hire a sitter who will come up with a huge game plan for the kids during the summer. I interview college kids and tell them my expectations. They all respond with positive affirmations like “that sounds wonderful “or “I love that idea “or “I have done that in the past and it works well”. But then the summer begins and the new sitter comes over and nothing falls into place in the way I expected it to weeks before. 

This year, both kids fell in love with the same sitter. In the past, they have had to bargain together because one of them liked one sitter and the other liked another sitter. They would go back-and-forth on the benefits and detriments of both of their choices and eventually land on one for the summer (typically Maria’s choose with some bribery on her part).. So this year, I was excited that they both selected the same girl. She seemed very nice and grounded during our telephone interview, and she seemed upbeat and chill  when she came over to the house. She studied Chinese and finance in college, and was getting ready for a full-time job starting in September. Her references stated that she was one of the nicest people they had met. The only issue they had with her is that she was “too nice.” Their kids loved her because she would let them do anything they wanted. So there lies my dilemma. This would probably be the last year that we have a full-time summer sitter. Jon and I had been seriously contemplating letting the kids be on their own next summer and just putting them in numerous camps, etc. So as much as I dreamed of a sitter who would have detailed plans for the week and get them to do 2 hours of homework a day, I also dreamed of a sitter that would have fun with the kids and who both kids enjoyed. Hence, why I decided to go with the girl both kids liked. 

And so far, it has gone well with our current sitter this summer, as far as the kids and her  getting along. However, I have gone a bit nuts through this summer with the lack of itinerary planned for the kids. The sitter quite enjoys watching TV with the kids and caves as soon as they start begging for anything. The upside is that if I tell her certain things must be done, then she will get them done. But that means that I have to spend time in the evening or in the morning writing down all of the things I want done. This would not seem to be a huge task but when I’m dealing with work, cleaning the house, tending to the kids and to the hubby, walking the dog, working out, that one more thing may just put me over the edge. 

I had dreams of the kids waking up in the morning and taking a walk with the dog, coming home and doing some workbook pages, engaging in a cool project together, hitting the pool, coming back to a siesta and reading their books for an hour, putting a book report together of what they read, starting a nonprofit to help needy children in the world, learning Spanish fluently…. ok, a bit much but a mom can dream.

A few weeks ago, I about lost my mind over   what the kids were doing (actually not doing) through the day. I called the house and heard the TV in the background. I asked my sitter how long they had been watching it. She responded that they had only watched a few shows. Only watched a few shows, I thought?! Are you kidding me? It is 80° outside and sunny and they are in there watching tv shows for hours on end? I came home that night, ignored the dishes and clutter, and wrote down a list of things the kids needed to do the next morning – dust, water the flowers, do workbook pages, read…. The next day those things were done, and I was happy. The following day I had no time to write anything down but I was still happy from the previous day’s accomplishments. Who knows what the kids did throughout the day. I began to fret about it but then I thought about my summers. I don’t recall my parents worrying about the amount of reading I was doing or buying me any workbooks during the summer. Rather, I recall watching Famoly Feud and Three’s Company and Family Ties.  I recall jumping on my bike and trying to find a friend to play with in the morning. I recall walking down to the carry out to get snacks with my girlfriend. I recall arranging and rearranging my stuffed animals in my bedroom. One thing I don’t recall – learning multiplication or reading 300 page novel. And now look at me. I’m not a Nobel laureate but I turned out ok. My kids will do the same. 

And since I’ve let go of my angst and worry about summer activities for the kids, I am able to appreciate all they’ve done.

1. Created their own lunches and made videos of the preparation.

​​
2. Thought about activities they could do to earn money (babysitting, dog-walking and dog-sitting).

3. Started a backpack drive to get backpacks for kids in need. 

4. Went to play practice Tuesday through Thursday each week.

​

5. Dusted the house.

6. Watered the flowers. 

7. Completed workbook pages.

8. Read their books.

9. Started reading a book with me in the evenings (The Giver).

10. Babysat their cousin.



11. Cleaned their rooms.

12. Played with friends.



13. Swam and dove at the pool.

​​
14. Visited the pet shelter and gave kittens love.


15. Coached a K-6 soccer camp with high school girls (Maria).

16. Got tutored (Maria).

17. Played in a basketball league (Mario).

18. Completed swim team (Maria).



19. Played in GBSA baseball and fast-pitch softball.


20. Went to basketball and football camp (Mario).

21. Went to Akita camp.


22. Visited their grandmas.


23. Watched a deer play with Rocco.


24. Learned how to fake fight each other. 

​​
25. Played Clue and Monopoly.

26. Hit a neighbor’s pool party and Ri baked a killer 4th of July cake.


27. Watched fireworks in the car.


28. Played with cousins.


29. Biked to Tim Horton’s for donuts.


30. Drank lots of Starbucks.


31. Went to a church festival.


32. Tried out modeling (Ri).


33. Fell in love with Jake Paul (Mario).

34. Enjoyed Jeni’s.


35. Visited The Wilds and became mesmerized with an ostrich. 

36. Visited my work and played at the Barnes & Noble. 


37. Visited the Boathouse in Marietta on the River and ate ribs and pulled pork.

38. Ate at Skyline (one too many times)!


39. Rocked some heels at Robert’s lakeside wedding.


40. Learmed how to play Balckjack (his counselors taught him at camp)!


41. Hit The Beach water park and braved the slides and zip line with Ri.


42. Partied together at Lia’s wedding.

43. Ate s’mores and held baby chicks at the farm.


44. Made family meals together and ate on the patio.


45. Held family meetings to discuss the week ahead.

Not bad, and we still have a month to go. The kids are hoping we can add Kings Island to our list; I’m hoping we can add two more completed books:).

Softball/baseball Wrap Up!

Leave a comment

We officially hit the end of baseball and softball season last night. Four weeks straight of pretty much a game every evening, if not two. Four weeks straight of hot dogs, chips, famous Amos cookies, and orange pop. Four weeks straight of up and down moods based on how much sleep the night before, how much activity the day of, how much irritation at the thought of homework the following day.

Maria ended with a bang. Who would’ve thought that this ragtag group of girls would make it to the championship game? I was busy just getting them to talk to one another and cheer for each other during the game. But something clicked midway through the season and I heard girls that I had never heard before rooting for their teammates. I had girls that had never caught a ball catching flies in the outfield. It was amazing. Maria rocked out pitching for us this year – I basically had her and a fifth grader to get us through the season. She stepped up. She also got her bat around well this year. And last but not least, she was the voice of the team, as always. I think that’s why the shy, quiet girls on the team finally began to speak – they were worried of the wrath of Maria! Ri possesses the ability to get people to smile and to engage and maybe get out of their comfort zone for a while. That is because she can so easily act silly and goofy and wild without a care about what anyone thinks. 

She riled up the girls for the semi championship game, which led to a decisive win over the opposing team. The girls were so excited. 


However, me and my assistant coach were a bit less excited just because we were playing a team that can bring a bit of drama to the game. I learned a great deal about my personality over the two day period between winning the semi-championship and playing in the championship. I could not believe how sick to my stomach I was in that 48 hour period – second-guessing myself, worrying I hurt people’s feelings, concerned that people may be upset with me. Just throw me back to my childhood because that’s where all this crap began. I had at least 50 come to Jesus talks with myself over that short time period but it wasn’t until after the game that I began to feel less stressed. A huge lesson for me for the future – I am allowed to take a stance and I am allowed to have people be upset by it. Not all of my viewpoints are going to be loved. 

We ended up losing the championship game. I was surprisingly relieved after all the tension leading up to it. I would usually be madly disappointed but I wasn’t this year because of all the angst prior to the game and because I was mindful of my group of girls who gained experience and skill and had a most wonderful season together. They knew how to have fun. You would have thought we won the championship by the way they were laughing and playing and goofing around. 


Mario’s team got to the championships, too. They played a nail-biter of a game against the number one team in the league to win the semi-championship. Mario played his heart along with the rest of the kids. He had a killer nab at shortstop with a bullet of a throw to first. He also pitched like a rock star. I was so proud of him and so happy for him and his teammates. They were on cloud 9. 


They did not catch a break in the championship game; they hit line drives but they went straight to an opposing player. The other team hit line drives on the gaps in the field. There was nothing to do about that; it’s simply a matter of luck. Mario was upset as were his teammates. There were tears. There was anger. But they still got second place trophies and within twenty minutes were all feeling better and ready to move on. I told Mario over and over that no matter if he won or lost, he’d forget about it twenty minutes later. I think there’s a study that confirms you bask in your glory for about 15 minutes and then you are back to usual. 


We had Gio with us that night so I told the boys we could take a bike ride to Jeni’s and Mario was fine. 

What will I do next year now that Maria will play for the middle school team and I can’t coach her? Watch out Mario…:)

I love to watch you play … But I also like to see you play well…!

Leave a comment

We had a full day of sports yesterday. Ri had a double header softball game at 10 am, Mario had a two hour football game at 12:30, and Ri finished out the day with a soccer game at 3:30. I know, I know. All my friends with older kids remind me of how much I will miss these packed days when my kiddos are grown. And I know I will because I actually don’t mind watching them for hours straight on a weekend (as long as I can get my teeny workout in and I may wish they played a bit closer to Grandview but that’s about it). 

However, when I watch them play, I do expect them to give it their all. If I’m putting in the time to watch, they should put in the time to play hard. I was complaining to my girlfriend a few weeks ago about Ri not running up to the ball hard enough. I told her I felt bad because after Ri’s game I coached Ri and told her that she’s gotta concentrate on the ball ahead of her more. Ri responded flippantly “how about saying nice game, Ri?”  My girlfriend counseled me that I need to simply say after her game “I love to watch you play.”

After thinking about it more, I resolved to take my friend’s advise but add to it. I’m gonna tell my kids “I love to watch you play, and I also love to give you feedback on things I thought you did well and things to look out for next game.” That’s fair, right? Heck, that’s what I do with school work so why can’t I do it for sports? 

And so I did just that yesterday without too much negative feedback from either child. They were too high on their performances to give me any negative feedback: they both did amazing jobs in their games. Ri cranked out two strikeouts and a play at home. I got a bit of it on video for once. 

​​​​
Mario had two great runs in his football game and I scored big for getting them on video. He loved watching himself last night….

​​
And then Ri finished the day with a shot in the goal form the right wing position. Her face was priceless after the shot went into the goal. I was too busy jumping up and down to capture it! But I did capture some smiling faces after the game.


So maybe my feedback after the “I love to watch you play” comment is working…or getting them so irritated that they take out their aggression on the field. Either way, I will take it.

​​

What a dad will do.

Leave a comment

So I came up with the bright idea to use a tarp as a slip-n-slide in order to try to teach my softball girls how to slide. We placed it out on the front lawn, added dishwashing detergent, and sprayed it with the hose. I think I may have seen one actual legitimate slide by one of the girls. The rest was nonsense. But well-earned nonsense after winning their last two games.


Maria was scared half to death to slide. I don’t blame her – the bumps in the grass hurt like heck when you hit them. The other girls were running and sliding on their knees or head first though so Ri felt the need to keep up. But when she couldn’t allow herself to get down on the tarp, she got upset and cried. Jon and I kept reinforcing to her that she didn’t need to try it or if she wanted to try it, to start it slow and just place a leg down first. She kept trying but then stopping. Finally, Jon knew what to do. He told her that he’d slide if she would. Her eyes widened. She was in. She tried again and again until she finally did a half slide. We told Jon it was good enough for him to have to go through with his bet. 

And so he did.


He didn’t get too far but he did it. We all laughed hysterically, and Ri was smitten. Her dad usually would not engage in such antics but he did for her to get her to overcome her anxiety. I think she clearly understood and appreciated this very point, and as we all belly-laughed, she looked over at him and gave him a wickedly sweet smile.

Take me out to the ball game…again and again and again.

Leave a comment

The beginning of Summer break has consisted of baseball, softball, and more softball. We should be used to this chaos that lasts from Memorial Day through the first week of July since I’ve been coaching Ri’s team for the last three years and Mario’s been playing baseball during that time, but this year feels different. I think it’s because Mario’s games are more exciting due to him making great plays and big hits, and Ri’s games are exhilarating between the sliding and the third-dropped-strike rule. I am a nut job during Ri’s games trying to watch for the dropped strike, the runner stealing, the fake bunt…. 

Mario looks like a pro baseball player in an eight year old body. He is in position before every play and in the batter’s box swinging away before he gets up to bat. He loves baseball this year. One reason why: he’s the oldest on the team this year. He’s one of four second graders. The rest are first graders. And he is one of the best players on the team. Hence, super stardom at every game when he makes an out or gets a hit. And he’s been making them like mad. He got all three outs on numerous occasions. He’s hit quite a few doubles. And his face is priceless when he gets an out. He hears the cheers but he just keeps on his game face and stares straight ahead. Mr. Cool.


And holy cow, Maria! She has stepped it up to the nth degree this year. The first game, she caught two fly balls. Jon and I stood with mouths agape, so proud of her. And unlike Mario, she shows her enthusiasm. She smiles as wide as the outfield and does a little dance shuffle. It is so sweet. I keep wanting to get a picture but since I’m coaching, I have no ability to think about a snapshot. Strategize, strategize, strategize.

Jon and I are both so impressed with Ri. She has made nearly every catch thrown to her. I’m playing her at first base and she is covering it like a glove. She’s completely aware and ready during the games. She moves. It’s a beautiful thing that was not seen much by any of the girls last year. This year is a different ball game. 

I hit the jackpot with my team this year, too. All the girls root each other on and have a great time together. I have a sixth grader from another school who is a star pitcher and batter. She’s got a heckuva arm and hit one to the fence the other night. But she is the most humble and considerate girl. She cheers on the other pitchers who are struggling to make it over the plate. She gives tips to the girls up to bat. She never whines or gets mad when we lose a game. She’s been an awesome 6th grade leader. Ri has gotten close to her over the past few weeks and looks up to her. Ri has stepped up to lead the team as well. It helps that she has her mother’s lungs and so it’s easy to scream for the girl up to bat or pitching on the mound. 

Ri cranked it the other night as pitcher. She had not been happy with her pitching a couple of games back. She had gotten some walks and gotten hit on a few times. She looked at me several times and whispered “pull me.” Yea, I’m serious. The girl gets really frustrated, really quickly. We are trying to work with her to calm her emotions down and take deep breaths. It’s the only way she will be able to pitch well, much less have fun with the game. I’m so happy to have Jon near me doing the scorebook because he’s able to grab her when she’s upset and talk some sense into her (or give her a wet willy). 

I took her out to the front yard before our game this past Monday to throw with her. She started to get angrier and angrier with each minute because she was throwing balls and only a rare strike. After ten minutes, she threw her glove down and ran inside. She was hysterically crying and telling me she could not play. She didn’t want to lose. She didn’t want to mess up. She was hugging me and sobbing. I felt so badly for her and was worried because I had not seen her act like this before. After a few minutes, she settled down and laid her back against the kitchen wall. I rubbed her back and got her water. After some breathing exercises, we drove down to the game. She jumped out of the car – completely unphased by the past twenty minutes –  and chatted it up with her teammates while they watched the remainder of the game before us. 

I put her on first base the first inning and she made an out. When she came in for the bottom of the inning, she said she wanted to pitch. I told Jon if she started to flip out, I’d have to pull her. But what did she do? Threw strikes and caught a pop up ball to get out of the inning with no runs scored. She was so charged up. And the next inning, she hit a double! Oh, the intense feeling of joy you get when you see your daughter in her element and so happy. I was at once relieved and excited and proud. She had a heck of a night. I think melt-downs pre-game may need to occur in the future….


As hectic as June is with baseball and softball, Jon and I would not change a thing. It is a treasure to be able to watch our kids play hard and achieve new feats (as well as learn how to deal with the hardship of a missed play or loss). And I get the added boost of being able to coach a group of girls who love the game and want to learn and succeed. Couldn’t ask for a better start to the summer.

Season Opening

Leave a comment

Grandview turns into Mayberry on the Saturday before Memorial Day. Folks line up lawn chairs and place tiny American flags on their lawns. 1st Avenue is lined with cheerful kids extending out their hands to catch candy thrown from cars and trucks. Parents sip on their beverages and wave at friends walking in the parade. 

Grandma Ionno came in town to ride with Jon in my dad’s truck. 


Jon was charged to be to drive Ri and her softball team in the truck. He was super protective of it for my dad’s sake. A boy threw a bouncey ball at it and Jon warned him not to throw things at the truck. Ri loves that story. Mario was in a separate truck with his teammates, and talk about pelting things at trucks…. I left it to his coaches to discipline Mario and his crew; I had enough on my hands keeping my team from throwing out all the candy in the first two blocks. 


Jon dropped the girls off at the field and we all lined up for the opening ceremony. We chuckled at Patty waltzing across the field with seven bottles of water for Mario and his teammates. She’s precious. We sang the anthem, Mrs. McCauley threw out the opening pitch, and the ketchup, mustard and relish guys raced down the field. Play ball!

Sunday sports

Leave a comment

We started our Sunday off early – up at 7:30 am to head to Ri’s double-header softball games. Ri is a trooper: she was up all night coughing her head off and I thought for sure she’d wake up begging not to go to softball. But instead she woke up and went downstairs to eat a bowl of cereal. Now, I’m not saying she was jumping up and down to get to her game – in fact, when I asked her if she could go to the game she shrugged her head mimicking “I don’t know.” But when I told her that if she skipped softball there would be no afternoon play dates, she put on her cleats and was ready to go. 

She cranked out a hit and walked three times.

 
  
Our softball girl! She also got a play at third base but still has no clue how it happened! The ball was hit to left field and she moved to third base like her coach told her to do whenever she heard the ball hit the bat. But she was not aware of the girl heading to third or that she could make an out. She was standing there ready to get the ball to the pitcher. The left fielder threw it to Ri and she happened to turn towards the girl running to third and tag her right before her foot touched the bag! The ump called an out and Ri looked baffled until she realized she made the out. Gotta love her. Actually, what I love more is that she readily admits it! I asked her after the game if she knew what she was doing and she laughed “ugh, no, I had no idea! I was ready to throw it to the pitcher!” And yet another reason I love her so. She is completely comfortable with herself to the point that she doesn’t need to make up a story to look better. 

Now, Mario, on the other hand, would have crafted a story to make it seem he knew exactly what he was doing! And he would have convinced us all he did know what he was doing even if that wasn’t the case. He enjoys the limelight and looking cool. I think it’s partly being an eight year old boy but also partly his personality. Whereas Ri can laugh at her foibles, Mario does not want to draw attention to them. 

Mario cranked out a tough football game in the afternoon. He played both offense and defense and ran the ball a few times. He didn’t get too far because defenders swarmed him but it was enjoyable as heck to watch.   

  He will undoubtedly come home tonight and show me all his moves he did on the field. He will talk about how they got robbed of a win. And he will jump on XBox and play some more football. 

I’m so glad that I have two kids that love the outdoors and have taken to Fall sports – both very different in their approach but I love watching them both all the same.

Seriously?!

Leave a comment

So we were down to one kid Saturday night. And it was Ri. And she had slept overnight at a friend’s house Friday night so she was exhausted. There was a good chance she may sleep in until 8 or 8:30 on Sunday morning. Jon and I stayed up later than usual. It was a wild night – bed after 11 pm!

If it’s not the kids, it’s the dog. Jon heard Rocco at 6 am crying in his kennel. I barely heard him get out of bed but then, five minutes later, he was in our room jostling me. 

“Rocco got sick – I need your help.” The stench overpowered me as soon as I hit the bottom stair. His kennel looked like a murder scene. Diarrhea everywhere. The walls and cabinets were splattered with brown flakes. 

Lovely. 

I went outside and saw blood droplets on the steps. Then in the grass. Poor guy was bleeding, too. I went upstairs, got dressed, grabbed a cereal bar, and we were off to the ER. Jon stayed back with Ri. 

Three hours later I was back home running a brush through my hair and trying to find Ri’s softball shirt. Jon got her bag and water bottle, we rushed into the car, picked up Ri’s friend, and headed 30 minutes up north to her double header softball game. Meanwhile, I waited to hear from the ER vet. It was scorching hot outside – 88 degrees. The temp was extra hellish after being treated to 65-70 degree days for a few days. I could have laid in the grass under the oak tree and napped the entire game. But I cheered on my girl who got two hits and was so happy. 

We got home at 5 pm. Jon crashed upstairs and I ate two bags of Whoppers. I was starving. I tried to nap on the couch but Mario was playing Madden Football so every 30 seconds he yelled “Mom, look at this play!”

I dragged my body off the couch and drove to the grocery with Ri. The vet called. Rocco needed to stay overnight to keep fluids in him. At least we’d get a full night of sleep (we’d end up paying $500 for that night of sleep but hey…). Ri and I picked out brownie mix and cookie mix at the store to make treats for my girlfriend’s birthday. Then we shopped for lunch and dinner necessities. She could have thrown ten bags of donuts in the cart and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was beat.

We arrived home to Mario greeting us. I asked him to help with the groceries and he declined. I loudly commented about how strong Ri was to carry so many grocery bags and he ran over to carry just as many. I still have it….

 We stepped in the house and missed our Rocco immediately. We take for granted that warm, leaping hello we get from him every time we enter the house. Ri grabbed bowls and measuring cups and we started our chocolate chip cookie batter. Between the two of us licking the spoon and the spatula and the sides of the bowl, we probably only baked half the mix. 
The brownie batter was even worse. The cookie dough was our appetizer and the brownie mix was our dinner. We did make a bowl of green beans to go with it though. By 9 pm, the desserts were complete and we were all ready to crash. I’m not sure teeth even got brushed before bed – we all just zombied our ways to our rooms and called it a day.