Baseball, Boys, and Mommy

Who would ever have thought I’d be a mom of boys?

Yes, I grew up on a farm. Yes, we jumped off hay bales, teased hogs, climbed on tractors and dump trucks. And at times, I practically lived in the tree house. But I was a a girl living among girls: into wedding dresses and princesses and love stories. And I absolutely, positively detest sports, unless it’s the Winter Olympics or ice skating.

But wonder of wonders, it turns out I’m a natural mother of boys. I think watching construction equipment work is TOTALLY AWESOME. I love superheroes, superhero movies and all their cool toys. And I can enter into discussion about transformers with enthusiasm—which would NOT be the case with Barbie fill-in-the-blank. (Ugh. Barbies are so creepy.)

Still, there’s the baseball thing. I tolerate baseball because it’s a given in my husband’s family. But the only thing I was looking forward to about Alex’s first T-ball practice was being outside on a spring evening. And by the time we spent thirty-five minutes in the car crossing town in rush hour traffic, arriving five minutes late, I was not a happy mom.

Christian met me at the car and rushed Alex, who’d fallen asleep on the way, out onto the field. But before I’d even settled in, Christian was bringing Alex back across the field with That Look on his face. “You deal with him,” he said thunderously.

Poor kid. Imagine falling asleep in the car and being shrieked at to wake up, we’re late, and then have your dad drag you out of a warm van into an almost-chilly evening to go out by yourself on a field full of strangers and do something you’ve never done before!

So I went out on the field with him and held my jacket around him while he stood in line and watched his team mates take their turn at the “run to first base” drill. By the time his turn came, he was fine, and I melted back to the sidelines, to become Photographer Mom.

And it was heavenly. Suddenly I became comfortable in the role of Baseball Mommy. I mean, how cute is this?

And this?

How can you resist the tongue between the teeth?

And the concentration on his face?

And don’t forget the other adorable children…

I have a scrapbook decoration to use. It says, “Boy: A Noise With Dirt On It.”

And of course, it melted my heart when Christian couldn’t stand it anymore and jogged out to be a catcher. 

This is comfort: being surrounded by my family. A comfort that, in the wake of my recent dream, is all the more poignant.

And now…it’s YOUR TURN, folks! I know that each of you moms out there reading this has had a poignant moment this week. Good, bad, cute, funny–whatever it is, leave a comment and let us all share YOUR Motherhood moment.

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