I am a baseball mom. And a baseball wife. Both my boys play. And my husband manages a team. This will be his..um...how many is it now? Fourth season? Fifth? Oh I don't know...they all run together anymore. All I know is that uniforms need to be clean, socks need to match, athletic supporters need to be located and water bottles need to be at the ready.Oh...yeah...and I need to keep score.
That's where I spent my evening...the Scorekeeper's Clinic. The same clinic I've been attending for the past...oh...gosh...5 years or so? Maybe 6. Again...I've lost track. Seth is 13...and started playing when he was 6. Yeah, we've been doing this a while. And I've been doing the clinic for a while. I like to think that after 5 years or so of keeping score I'd have it down by now. And I do. But still, the clinic is mandatory. So..I go. And I complain. It's the same thing each year. I complain that I don't want to go. I gripe all the way there. I bedgrudgingly fill out my volunteer forms. And then I realize that it was a good thing I went. You'd think I'd just give in and go willingly...you know?
I have to admit...I'm not always real agreeable during the baseball season. I mean, isn't it hard enough to plan meals and get homework done and music lessons organized? And now I've got to make sure I've got enough food for a pre-game dinner...but not too heavy. And enough for a post-game snack...because they WILL be hungry after the game.
And let's not forget...it can get VERY cold at that ballpark. VERY cold. So I have to make sure there are plenty of blankets...and cushions...and bleacher seats...and sunflower seeds (whether it's cold or not) and I have to make sure we're all in warm layers...but not too constricting, they've got to be able to play ball, after all. Can't have them looking like Randy in A Christmas Story.
I mean really...baseball season really throws a wrench into the machine around here. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love going to my boys' games...and cheering them on...and whistling with my fingers...LOUD. I love arguing about the calls...and harassing the umpire, respectfully of course...ahem. I love eating sunflower seeds and spitting the shells. I love nachos with fake cheese and extra jalapenos. I love winning. And I'm OK with losing. It's the way it goes sometimes...and it's good for the boys to learn that. It's good that they learn to work as a team...and to listen to guidance...and to realize that you win some...and...you lose some. It's just the way that it goes. And there's no crying about it. Right? Right. Does that apply to the scorekeeper, too? I'll do my best...but no promises!
That's where I spent my evening...the Scorekeeper's Clinic. The same clinic I've been attending for the past...oh...gosh...5 years or so? Maybe 6. Again...I've lost track. Seth is 13...and started playing when he was 6. Yeah, we've been doing this a while. And I've been doing the clinic for a while. I like to think that after 5 years or so of keeping score I'd have it down by now. And I do. But still, the clinic is mandatory. So..I go. And I complain. It's the same thing each year. I complain that I don't want to go. I gripe all the way there. I bedgrudgingly fill out my volunteer forms. And then I realize that it was a good thing I went. You'd think I'd just give in and go willingly...you know?
I have to admit...I'm not always real agreeable during the baseball season. I mean, isn't it hard enough to plan meals and get homework done and music lessons organized? And now I've got to make sure I've got enough food for a pre-game dinner...but not too heavy. And enough for a post-game snack...because they WILL be hungry after the game.
And let's not forget...it can get VERY cold at that ballpark. VERY cold. So I have to make sure there are plenty of blankets...and cushions...and bleacher seats...and sunflower seeds (whether it's cold or not) and I have to make sure we're all in warm layers...but not too constricting, they've got to be able to play ball, after all. Can't have them looking like Randy in A Christmas Story.
I mean really...baseball season really throws a wrench into the machine around here. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. I love going to my boys' games...and cheering them on...and whistling with my fingers...LOUD. I love arguing about the calls...and harassing the umpire, respectfully of course...ahem. I love eating sunflower seeds and spitting the shells. I love nachos with fake cheese and extra jalapenos. I love winning. And I'm OK with losing. It's the way it goes sometimes...and it's good for the boys to learn that. It's good that they learn to work as a team...and to listen to guidance...and to realize that you win some...and...you lose some. It's just the way that it goes. And there's no crying about it. Right? Right. Does that apply to the scorekeeper, too? I'll do my best...but no promises!
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