So Tuesday, I was ramping up to complain and be negative when two of the cutest kids and their momma showed up to watch the "big boys" play baseball. The baseball team had gone to an elementary school and put on a clinic before the season got going and these little guys had gone to it and convinced their busy mother that they had to come to a game. Luckily, I know this mom from church and was so happy to see her and spend time with her. She's one of those "super moms"...works, looks amazing and has the cutest, politest and most pleasant boys. I am sure she had other things to do but I, with my big 17 year old boy, was humbled that she would bring her guys to see him and the others play.
We sat in the grass and the questions those boys asked took me back to when I had little guys. "Why is that guy wearing all that stuff?" "Why is Howie standing on that hill to throw the ball?" "Why is that guy standing behing the guy who has all that stuff on?" and on and on. I talked with these two cuties the whole game and their mother let me and I dreamed about being the grandmother to little ones and how precious that must be.
Howie pitched and he did very well. He is the guy that goes in when the game is out of control and there are loaded bases with no outs and the kid manages to keep the ball down and throw strikes. But honestly, I was so wrapped up in the sweet boys and the game, that Howie could have totally screwed up and threw belt high strike after strike and I wouldn't have cared. I was so busy looking at those sweeties with their faces covered in lollipop juice and the velco sneakers and the innocent questions about baseball and life. At one point, the little one asked me where my dad was and I had to laugh and ask "you mean my husband?" He said, "no, the guy you are always with, Mr Jim, your dad?" As we walked over to Jim, I explained that Mr. Jim was my husband, like his dad was his mom's husband and his father...but it was so freakin' cute and who cares if he got it? Sometimes, I thought as I explained it to him...Jim acts like my dad and I guess sometimes I act like Jim's mother so I guess he is not that far off.
The game was over and the boys got to visit with Howie and they really wanted to see the catcher but it was a bitter loss and he didn't come out before their mamma took them home. But, they did get to watch the "big boys" and have a lollipop and I got to have them on my lap and talk about things that really matter. I got to explain baseball and ask them about their little t-ball team and I got to feel the activity of a couple of busy boys in my lap. I got to fly them over my head and tell them how fabulous they were and what nice boys they were and how I enjoyed them. And I did...a lot! It turned out to be the best baseball game of the year.
I learned last Tuesday a big lesson. I learned about how some things, while not the way you want them to turn out, are really not a big deal. I learned that High school baseball is not a big deal and that who you are in adversity and when things go wrong...figuring that out is a big deal. I also learned that a couple of little boys can make everything right in the world when they are not your own and you can be taken back to when they were. That time in my life was so hard and so sweet at the same time. My boys were hard to corral but easy to love and now that they are big boys...I honor that momma and her work and her time that she spends loving these two. These boys were the cutest guys I have spent time with in a long time and cannot wait to do it again.
In ten years, that mamma will be in my shoes. She will have big boys, maybe one at college and one in high school. Probably, she will be wondering where the time has gone because I know she doesn't feel that way now. Hopefully, she will be sitting at a baseball game and if the season is tough, I hope someone with little boys shows up and returns the favor to her. To help her see that it is not such a big deal...it's just baseball and even though it's intense, it is not life.
So thank you Sara...for bringing those cute boys to to the game, for giving me a trip back to when I was you (kinda) and to remember how absolutely precious that time was. You are doing an amazing job with those boys and any time you need a babysitter...you can call me and my dad, Mr. Jim, and Howie and we would love to corral them, play with them, give the blow pops, and velcro their shoes closed. It would be an honor.
We'll tawk tomorrow,
I love you all,