Play Ball!

Or, more appropriately, "Run in circles and laugh until you trip and fall over!"

Baseball Season has begun. Yesterday was the first practice (moved from Saturday for some unknown reason). John is one of the older children on the team, which is good. It'll help balance out the fact that he hasn't been raised in a culture of sports and knows next to nothing about... any of it.

The coach is a doll, and his wife has more enthusiasm than any one person should be permitted. She's really great. And so organized. (I'll admit it, I sat and just stared at her - how can she DO so much with a manilla folder? How does she make that work? Don't things fall out and get coffee spilled on them, and don't her children *rearrange* them for her all the time? Ohhhhh, could she possibly have a Special Place for her paperwork? Mmmmmm. I must get to know this woman!)

But back to the children... They are so stinkin' cute! It's like being at the zoo, watching the Cute and Fuzzy Display. (The chain link fence may have added to that sensation a bit.) One little boy just danced and danced while he was in line. There was no music, but that didn't stop him. He was so much fun to watch. There's a little guy who reminds me of Ron Weasley, with his red hair and sweet nature. He was so enthusiastic, but couldn't run ten feet without flipping over. He'll be a tad bruised by the first game, but with his go-get-em attitude, he'll probably be running marathons in five years.

The kids were a bit shy with one another. Most of them look to the stands for their support and encouragement. As they get to know each other, they'll be more willing to shout encouragement to one another. But in the meantime, John and a couple of others flashed the "I love you," sign to their parents in the stands. And after each catch or toss or running stint, the little face attached to the action would turn our way, seek out his people and absolutely BEAM. That was good to see.

Actually, the whole afternoon was encouraging. There were three dads out on the field, helping the coach. The benches were filled with moms and siblings. No swearing. No fighting. No nastiness. We were in heaven. If you're ever feeling a little down on how our society is going, let me know and I'll bring you by the ballfield. Like a little shot of hope, really. But without the puckering fear of the needle, or the little cotton ball/bandaid thing.

We're sized for his uniform (oh. my. word. - those are just the cutest little things!!) and Zorak and I have the requisite parental support garments ordered (cap for him and t-shirt for me). I've got to find a small duffle bag for John to keep his things in. Practice comes three times a week, plus games on weekends, so it looks like I'm going to have to master the art of the stock pot, and make-ahead meals. But did I mention how absolutely adorable the little ones out on the field are? Oh.

And the coffee is good. Zorak put it well. It's not gourmet coffee good. It's not Circle K coffee good. It's, "We're sitting here, on a bench, watching our child play ball" good. Very good, indeed.

There were going to be pictures, but the upload cord has completely disappeared. Without a trace. Weird.

Kiss those babies!
~Dy