Triple After Midnight: Extreme Sports

Halloween Weekend, 2011. My 14-year-old daughter was scheduled to play in the season’s “last look” collegiate softball showcase in Quakertown, Pennsylvania. First game was set for 8 a.m. Saturday, so we had to be there Friday night. I was taking my 5-year-old, who loves taking these trips with me, and leaving my 10- and 12- year-olds with my husband, who would be taking them to their local games on Long Island.

I wasn’t rushing to get out of the house. There was no point in trying to get through New York City before 7 p.m. Then I got a text from the coach: “Snow expected tomorrow. We have been offered a game for tonight at 9:30 or 10:30 p.m. How many of you can get here on time?”

“Are they crazy? Don’t people work? This game will never happen,” I said to whoever would listen. I texted back, “We can’t leave until 6 and she has a cough so I’d rather she didn’t play tonight anyway.”

About an hour later I get another team text, “Game is on for 10:30 p.m. 25 college coaches are there to see the game.”

I really didn’t care about the college coaches. While many parents are investing their time and money into this sport depending on the slim chance at an athletic scholarship, she is there for one reason: she really loves this game. But I really didn’t want her playing in this game tonight. She was running for the cross country state qualifiers the following week and I wanted her to get rid of that cough beforehand. There had been no response to my individual text so I assumed she was off the hook for that night.

So we’re driving through Brooklyn and I get another text. I threw the phone back to my daughter so she could read it and answer. “What is your ETA?”

What the heck is an ETA? Does he mean GPA? Then I realize he means estimated time of arrival.

“Tell him 10:30,” I said, assuming he wouldn’t put her in the game with no warm-up time. My GPS was set for the hotel – not the field.

“We are short one player. We’ll delay game and wait for you,” he answers.

Shoot. Now we were under the gun of a whole team depending on her so they could get this game in. I redirected the GPS to the field. We’d be there at 10:15.

We got to the field and it actually was not too cold. My 5-year-old woke up. “Are we at the hotel yet?” she asked, sleepily.

“Believe it or not, we are at the field for a game tonight.”

She reconciled herself to this news pretty well, perked up, and decided she would brave the outdoors to go sit and watch the game.

Game started at 11:15. The girls were playing well, and my daughter was happy with her plays at shortstop. The highlight of the night, for me, happened at 1 a.m., when my daughter hit a triple. That started a rally going, but my little one and I were cold and I watched the last inning from the car. We got to the hotel at around 2 a.m. The 8 a.m. game was canceled, with most of the Sat. games probably off. They were planning on putting a tarp down on the field.

“What about the outfield?” mused the father of an outfielder.

We woke up at 9 a.m. to take advantage of the hotel’s all-you-can-eat breakfast. I looked out at the falling snow and, worried about snow getting in the car window that doesn’t shut completely. Everybody figured it was canceled for the day but the Sunday games were still on. We wondered if they planned on bulldozing the fields. After breakfast I settled the girls back into the room and went out to wipe down my car and park it under a tree.

I came back in and was informed that the whole weekend was now off. Half the team was staying the night, to travel on dry roads tomorrow, and half was going. What drove me crazy was that people were standing around pretending like this didn’t really STINK. I missed my family, so chose to go.

It took a total of 7 hours to drive back – what had taken 3.5 hours the previous night. I averaged around 30 miles per hour.

How many times over that long drive over snowy, icy, sleety roads, did I wish we had stuck with cross country? How many times did I wish that, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, I had red, magical shoes that I could click together to get myself home?

When I was finally home, warm and cozy with my family all around me, I decided I was not going to leave the house again until I absolutely had to.

“How did it go?” asked my husband.

“That was a fun game,” my daughter replied.

And THAT is what it is all about. When you have a kid who is passionate about something, you do all that is in your power that allow them to do that thing that they love.

Parents who are just getting into travel sports, or contemplating taking their kids to tryouts, know what you are getting into. There are many highs, and more lows. It is extremely time-consuming, and expensive. If you have more than one child enrolled in a sport, it gets very tricky to plan out your nights and weekends. Your own social life will be confined to teammate’s parents on the field.

But if you can bear all that, and you want your child to learn about strength, dedication, time-management, and sacrifice (all the same things that parents will have to learn more about during this journey), then go ahead and start out on this adventure they call TRAVEL SPORTS. You will never be the same.

Full Count

Ball one. Outside.

It is a stressful evening, getting four kids ready to go out the door for our typical evening of sports. Dinner is on the table when they get home from school. Three of them play for travel ball teams, and they all have to be in different locations at 5:30 for games or practices.

Strike one. On the swing.

I drop one daughter to her coach’s house at 4:30. She has a 12U softball game at 6:00. The older daughter will get picked up by a teammate for her 14U softball practice, also at 6:00. I decide to go with my son for the emotional support he needs as starting pitcher on his baseball team.

Ball two. A little high.

My four-year-old looks frantically for all the little things she must have in her backpack. I question my son: Do you have your sports goggles? Water bottle? Athletic cup? Glove? Cleats? I double check the location of the game. We get out the door, carefully, making sure our big naughty puppy doesn’t get out with us.

Strike two. Looking.

In the car, I am feeling really stressed out. “Just a little more grace, Lord. I just need a little more grace to get through this evening.” Once I get to the game, I feel much better. I clear my head of where everybody else is, what has happened earlier, and what will happen later. My daughter finds other little girls to play with. My son goes to warm up. I say hello to the other parents.

Ball three. Inside. FULL COUNT.

We’re up one run, top of the sixth inning, and my son is on the mound. Three boys are in scoring position. The rest of the world disappears. My heart pounds. “Take your time, walk around,” I tell him.

Strike three. THE BATTER IS OUT.

The boys run out to the pitcher’s mound and pile on top of each other. In a ten-year-old boys’ world, a win is the happiest moment of his life. And for me, nothing else matters.

Grounders

I felt the pain when I tried to cut my daughter’s English muffin in half. As I brought my arm back to perform the cutting motion, the ache throbbed from my neck to the back of the upper arm.

Grounders.

How many grounders had I tossed during the live draft of the minors baseball division the previous day? Three to a boy, for about 90 boys…270. That could do it.

The most fun was when my own son came into the gym. I grinned wide.

“Watch, I’m gonna throw them really fast to him,” I said to his friend, who was catching the balls that the boys would throw back.

“Don’t throw it too hard!” his friend called across the gym to my son.

I threw the first one really hard, and bouncy, so he’d have to watch for the hop. Then one fast to the right, so he’d have to shuffle his feet and move to get it. The last one was fast to the left.

I threw them like that to all the boys that came out looking confidently athletic. Slow to the boys who seemed hesitant or undeveloped.

When they were all done, I drove my son home, took the temperatures of two daughters who were not feeling well, administered medicine, made sure my eldest daughter was ready to be picked up by her teammate for travel softball practice, grabbed a handful of almonds and a banana, and drove back to the high school to sign in the boys in the majors baseball division.

The inclusion of women in sports can only have a positive effect on society. Males admire athletic females; today they are not afraid to admit if one is stronger, faster, or more skilled in a sport. At the leadership level, they respect their input, organizational skills, and the “female intuition” they can bring to the table.

As a mother, getting involved in your child’s sports beyond the spectator level can be extremely rewarding for both you and your child. Your child knows that you share his passion; he learns more about you as he sees how you interact in a different sphere from home; and he may admire and respect you even more as you surprise him with what you can bring to his favorite sport.

“Because of the global dimensions this activity has assumed, those involved in sports throughout the world have a great responsibility. They are called to make sports an opportunity for meeting and dialogue, over and above every barrier of language, race or culture. Sports, in fact, can make an effective contribution to peaceful understanding between peoples and to establishing the new civilization of love.” – Pope John Paul II, Jubilee of Sports People, Homily, Oct. 10, 2000

I came across a terrific document, a special edition of “The Living Light” that includes several essays about “Sports as Religious Education”. You can download it here.

“Doing-it-all”: the Bare Minimum Approach

House Sparrows (Restrike Etching)

Today I am baking for my Christmas baby: a cake to celebrate at home, and cupcakes to bring to batting practice and school. With my four-year-old helping, I started pouring the first batch into the pans before realizing I had forgotten to put the eggs in. I went through a dozen eggs trying to make three batches of my egg white cake without getting any yolk in.

I didn’t make my Christmas houses this year – or my gingerbread – or my banana bread. And it’s okay. We finished our Nutcracker story ornaments and have been working on our Jesse tree symbols. Even that is touch-and-go. With sports after school, sometimes I can’t get the whole family together to do that, so on other days we will catch up by doing one scripture and symbol per child.

They also wrote their letters to St. Nicholas, which they put in their stockings on the eve of the Feast of St. Nicholas on December 6. Finally, we have our advent bead boxes. There are different colors to represent different types of good deeds; the children tell us what they did and they get beads to put in their boxes, which they offer to Jesus by placing them under the tree on Christmas Eve.

The older the kids and I get, the more I realize that you can leave a lot of stuff out – it is in the way that you do things that really matters. I can’t bake for every class party, but if I do I do it out of love. I can’t be at every one of their sporting events – now that they are all at different places doing different things – but they know I do my best to see each of them do their thing, and when I am there I am completely “present”, eating up every pitch, play, or move they make.

It’s also tricky toeing the line on how visible they want me to be, although they all want me there. My four-year-old wants me at the door of her ballet class watching every step, often photographing and videotaping. My nine-year-old is okay if I’m not there, but he prefers knowing that either his dad or I saw it if he had a good hit or pitched a great game. My twelve-year-old won’t admit that she cares if we are there or not, but she does. My fourteen-year-old can now go to sporting events on the school bus, but she begs me to go see her if I can. She smiles when she sees me show up, but then shoos me away, signaling for me to keep my distance.

“Doing it all” suddenly becomes a lot more doable when you aren’t really doing it all – just doing the really essential things right (or as close to right as you can make it).

Luke 12: 25-26
Can any of you by worrying add a moment to your lifespan?
If even the smallest things are beyond your control, why are you anxious about the rest?

Where have I been?

“I’m so thankful for friends like you,” I told my friend over coffee the other morning, “I know I can always come back to you.”

When I took up the hat of Softball Director, I had no idea of how many other facets of my life would go by the wayside. Personal paperwork piles up while softball papers get neatly filed. Friendly emails go unanswered while queries from coaches are returned immediately. Writing my daily blog has been replaced by composing dozens of emails that get sent out daily.

I don’t get paid but the perks are priceless. Like having my kids get announced on the field at the Long Island Ducks game, and being involved in the decisions that affect how their season is run.

My husband is so easy-going; he picks up milk and cereal at the start of the day, and the toys in the living room at the end of the day. When I missed a wedding shower, my future sister-in-law acted like no forgiveness was needed. My kids don’t clean their rooms but get their homework done and are always ready to go back to the field.

I say no to most other social activities to give us time as a family. When the kids get home from school, we hop in the pool for a half hour, have dinner together, and then get ready to go to at least one game or practice. We get home, have ice cream, shower, and go to bed. How much room is there for anything else?

This weekend I threw my daughter a sleepover/pool party with 15 guests. Half of the girls were from school and half from softball. This was partly to make up for all the sleepovers and playdates I have had to say no to throughout the year due to our busy schedule. They had a great time and I enjoyed watching them enjoy themselves.

“To everything there is a season”. My father always talks about how our roles in life change from time to time throughout our life span. For a season of several years I was a very involved homeschooler. Now my children are independent learners and thriving in the organized school sphere. Outside of school they are learning things on the field that will stay with them for the rest of their lives. I am having the time of my life watching that happen.

“My brain isn’t going anywhere,” I told another writing friend, “My writing is still in there and will come out in due time.”

Thank you for your patience as my posts remain thin during this busy time. I know you are all busy too and I pray you can take a moment to feel blessed for all of those things that you are putting your time and energy into.

Picture is of my family at the Met game at Citi Field on Mother's Day.

Perspective

I finally learned how to keep the scorebook for my children’s softball and baseball games. That is, I got the basics down. My husband explained to me how it is a constant learning process because there are so many intricate rules to a ballgame that it takes a lifetime to fully understand them. Every ballgame he watches on television he says, “There never ceases to be plays that have never happened before.”

During a 20-inning Met game, I sat down with a scorebook and practiced. I had to keep asking my kids to explain what was going on and by the end I thought I had it. Then I tried to keep score at my daughter’s game and messed up the very first inning, after looking up and responding to someone’s question. My husband said it was virtually impossible to score a girls’ softball game because of all the errors that take place. It also goes much faster than a major league game - where you have like five minutes in between batters and replays in between.

I kept practicing and in the process have been given a greater understanding and appreciation of the game. Between scoring and calculating statistics for the league, I now see the game in terms of numbers. If my daughter gets an out going to first but brings in a runner, I can say, “Oh, that was a sacrifice…it’s okay because she brought a runner in.” I now have a grand slam recorded for each of my daughters and look forward to the day my son will hit one.

Finally I was ready and the coach surrendered his book to me. I stood way off from everyone and refused to acknowledge anyone who tried to talk to me, knowing it would throw me off. I like to keep track of the balls and strikes as well; but it is so easy to concentrate on the pitcher and batter and then lose track of stolen bases and errors. You have to constantly be scanning the field and noting where all the runners are as well. And because the plays happen so fast and you’re trying to keep track of where everybody is, sometimes it becomes necessary to ask someone else what just happened.

Parenting is like this too. The little things do matter – but you can’t lose sight of the big picture. Your big dreams have to be constantly kept in the background, knowing that it is all the small decisions you and your children make each day that will bring you there. Constant change in focus and perspective is necessary to keep it all in balance. And one person can’t possibly do it all. Husband and wife need to keep each other appraised of what is going on play by play, from different viewpoints. If a single parent doesn’t have that on a daily basis, the job is so much tougher; he or she needs to have as much support as possible from other trusted adults.

I Thessalonians 4 captures both the intricate and the life summation in one short passage. In Christianity every thought and action that takes place in your daily walk is of importance; it all leads to eternal salvation. We are told not to “fall asleep” – we must be constantly aware and ready. Like we tell our girls not to fall asleep in the outfield because when that ball comes to them they have to be in “ready position” or bad things happen (like homeruns being scored on errors).

1 Thessalonians
Chapter 4 (NAB)
1
Finally, brothers, we earnestly ask and exhort you in the Lord Jesus that, as you received from us how you should conduct yourselves to please God--and as you are conducting yourselves--you do so even more.
2
For you know what instructions we gave you through the Lord Jesus.
3
This is the will of God, your holiness: that you refrain from immorality,
4
that each of you know how to acquire a wife for himself in holiness and honor,
5
not in lustful passion as do the Gentiles who do not know God;
6
not to take advantage of or exploit a brother in this matter, for the Lord is an avenger in all these things, as we told you before and solemnly affirmed.
7
For God did not call us to impurity but to holiness.
8
Therefore, whoever disregards this, disregards not a human being but God, who (also) gives his holy Spirit to you.
9
On the subject of mutual charity you have no need for anyone to write you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another.
10
Indeed, you do this for all the brothers throughout Macedonia. Nevertheless we urge you, brothers, to progress even more,
11
and to aspire to live a tranquil life, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your (own) hands, as we instructed you,
12
that you may conduct yourselves properly toward outsiders and not depend on anyone.
13
We do not want you to be unaware, brothers, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope.
14
For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so too will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep.
15
Indeed, we tell you this, on the word of the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will surely not precede those who have fallen asleep.
16
For the Lord himself, with a word of command, with the voice of an archangel and with the trumpet of God, will come down from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first.
17
Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together 4 with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Thus we shall always be with the Lord.
18
Therefore, console one another with these words.

Picture is of Audrey playing catcher in a travel game October 2009. If you enjoyed this post you might also enjoy reading “Statistics: Who Needs Them?”

Being the Underdog

“If you can accept losing, you can't win.” – Vince Lombardi

When watching a sports game in which none of our favorite teams are playing, Kevin always likes to root for the underdog. It is just great to see a small name team come out on top and surprise everyone. This takes on a whole new dimension when the underdog is your own child. Last year I wrote about how my daughter’s in-house softball team came back from a 0-16 season and beat the 16-0 team in the playoff game. Little did we know what a year we would be in for with travel ball.

Last summer our town league started its first travel softball team. The manager warned us that it would be a tough first season, with a new team playing against much more experienced girls. It was harder than any of us imagined, with our girls playing their hearts out and still losing with scores like 28-2, night after night and week after week.

I had to convince myself that I didn’t care about winning – I just wanted to watch my girls play their best and improve their skills. “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick” it says in Proverbs – so I just stopped hoping we would win and got used to losing.

By the end of the season, many of our girls had improved so much that they tried out for other more established teams and were picked up. We were left with a core group of loyal girls – girls that could have made it onto Division I teams but wanted to stay with their coaches – and parents who wanted to stay local and pay local prices. These girls and their coaches worked hard all through the winter.

The managers worked hard to organize a spring travel season – on top of in-house – putting on an optimistic air externally but secretly fearing another losing streak. These underdogs played their first double-header set of travel games on Sunday.

The pitcher in the first game was the same girl who helped us win that playoff game I wrote about last year. By the third inning we were so far ahead that we were sure we would “mercy” them by the fifth inning. (If a team is 12 runs ahead after the fourth inning, they win by the “mercy rule”.) But in the fourth inning our girls got sloppy and allowed the other team several runs. We thought our coach was going to have a heart attack. We caught up our runs and won 22-17.

The pitcher in the second game was my daughter Audrey. She shut them out from scoring any runs the first three innings. By the fourth inning she was tired and a few runs were allowed. We won 16-5.

What a thrill it was for all of us.

We don’t do our kids any favors if we make things too easy for them. The parents who stuck by the underdog team allowed their children the sweet taste of victory that is even sweeter when gotten the hard way.

Competition is a great way to teach important lessons about adversity in life and the strength we gain every time we put up a good fight.

Sirach
Chapter 2
1
My son, when you come to serve the LORD, prepare yourself for trials.
2
Be sincere of heart and steadfast, undisturbed in time of adversity.
3
Cling to him, forsake him not; thus will your future be great.
4
Accept whatever befalls you, in crushing misfortune be patient;
5
For in fire gold is tested, and worthy men in the crucible of humiliation.
6
Trust God and he will help you; make straight your ways and hope in him.
7
You who fear the LORD, wait for his mercy, turn not away lest you fall.
8
You who fear the LORD, trust him, and your reward will not be lost.
9
You who fear the LORD, hope for good things, for lasting joy and mercy.
10
Study the generations long past and understand; has anyone hoped in the LORD and been disappointed? Has anyone persevered in his fear and been forsaken? has anyone called upon him and been rebuffed?

Under the Boards

“If you don’t behave,” my Dad said to me sternly but half-jokingly, “We are going to cut your hair short, dress you like a boy, and have you come build houses for me. We’ll call you Lee.”

“Really?” I answered, thinking that would be great fun.

I was eight years old. I wouldn’t have a sibling until I was eleven, so my parents each imparted to me what skills they had, regardless of traditional gender roles. Mom taught me to sew; Dad taught me to cut wood with an electric saw. Mom taught me to be a lady; Dad taught me to think like a business man.

When I found out my first baby was going to be a girl, I decided she was not going to be a girly-girl. The woman who sold me a gallon of blue paint looked at my third-trimester tummy and knowingly commented, “You’re having a boy?”

“No, a girl. I like blue,” I said, defiantly.

Almost thirteen years later, I sat today watching my lovely young lady at the basketball awards party. She is two inches taller than me and absolutely beautiful. She carries herself with confidence. She is smart and athletic and knows it; yet she is too friendly for anyone to think she is conceited.

The coach introduced his award for Most Improved. “This player never played basketball before, and learned it fast. She took a beating under the boards, especially defending against those Southampton girls…” I knew he was going to say Audrey Miller.

I thought back to those big game moments that might have made a mother tremble with worry, or anger, or both; when she fought as if for her life under the basket to get the ball back to whoever on her team could get it down to the other end; when she was elbowed, scratched, and knocked to the ground, hard; and she retrieved that ball, held onto it as long as necessary, and expertly passed it off.

I was never worried because I knew she could take it; and I was proud of her for taking it; and I knew that every time she did this she would become stronger, both as a player and as a person.

I think of all the times people have told me that God gives us trials to make us stronger, and only gives us what He knows we can handle. Suddenly I realize that I have understood this along; that this is how I have been raising my kids because instinctively I knew this to be true.

James 1:2-4 (NAB) says: “Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

Let us all take those beatings under the boards with strength and grace. The ball is in our court.

Picture above is of the girls' basketball team captains: Audrey is the first on the left.

A Touch of Heaven to Hold Onto

On Monday morning the three older children returned to school and I took my three-year-old ice skating at our favorite outdoor rink.

The outdoor rink at Port Jefferson Harbor Park is built next to an old boathouse, which was converted into a community center, a few hundred yards away from the actual harbor. I much prefer the outdoor rink to an indoor one, with its cold, stale air and lack of scenery. While we skate, we can take in the endless view, occasionally disrupted by the departure of the huge, white ferry, which we occasionally board to visit the cousins in Massachussetts.

Last week, during winter break, I had let the children all stay up every night until midnight watching the Olympics. My three-year-old attempted the figure skating moves on the living room rug, often blocking our view of the routines. She wants to be an ice dancer like one of her favorite literary characters, Angelina Ballerina.

She has been skating on the sandbox-turned-ice rink in our backyard on a regular basis, and when I can take them all to the rink she is able to skate independently. So we really enjoy our time together on the ice.

When we arrived, there was one couple with a girl her age; they soon tired of the effort and left. That left us two and an elderly gentleman, who quietly skated around and around the perimeter.

Although she knows she can do it, she always starts off by clinging to me. Then I hold her hands and skate backwards with her, until she decides to let go and skate towards me. Then she starts to mimic my moves. As the ice gets more and more scuffed-up, her confidence increases. During this session, probably the last of the year, she learned to skate backwards as well as in circles. I promised her a cup of hot cocoa if she would smile for a few pictures.

They let us stay on the ice longer, because there were no more customers for the next session. We just kept going and going until we were both utterly exhausted. We put a dollar in the beverage machine for a hot cocoa and another in the snack machine for a bag of Goldfish.

We brought all our stuff out onto a bench at the harbor’s edge and just sat there, sipping our hot cocoa and snacking on Goldfish, and watching the stillness and beauty of the cold, quiet water, glistening on this sunny, forty-degree day. It was truly a touch of heaven to hold onto.

Sirach
Chapter 18
1
The Eternal is the judge of all things without exception; the LORD alone is just.
2
Whom has he made equal to describing his works, and who can probe his mighty deeds?
3
Who can measure his majestic power, or exhaust the tale of his mercies?
4
One cannot lessen, nor increase, nor penetrate the wonders of the LORD.
5
When a man ends he is only beginning, and when he stops he is still bewildered.
6
What is man, of what worth is he? the good, the evil in him, what are these?
7
The sum of a man's days is great if it reaches a hundred years:
8
Like a drop of sea water, like a grain of sand, so are these few years among the days of eternity.
9
That is why the LORD is patient with men and showers upon them his mercy.
10
He sees and understands that their death is grievous, and so he forgives them all the more.
11
Man may be merciful to his fellow man, but the LORD'S mercy reaches all flesh,
12
Reproving, admonishing, teaching, as a shepherd guides his flock;
13
Merciful to those who accept his guidance, who are diligent in his precepts.

Grace Under Pressure

I woke up this morning to a migraine headache, something I get a few times a year, usually when a cold front is coming through and smashing up against a warm front. I was thankful that I had a few hours before I had to go pick up the kids from school and drive them way out east for a basketball game.

I managed to consume a banana and a cup of tea so I wouldn’t have to take analgesics on an empty stomach. Then I snuggled up with my toddler on the couch and watched a Thomas the Tank Engine video.

She roused me at the end of the video and I realized it was time to go. I felt absolutely nauseous and was not sure how I could possibly drive. “Go get your hairbrush,” I told her.

She was on her way up the stairs, when she complained, “I think there’s something stuck in my nose.”

Thinking it was a “boogie”, I stuck my finger in her nostril to see if I could clear whatever was bothering her. I didn’t feel anything.

“There’s nothing in there,” I said.

“There’s something stuck in there!” she insisted.

So I placed her on the couch and looked up her nose. She was right. There was a miniature jingle bell stuck up her nose. I hadn’t seen this happen since my eldest was two and had stuck a bead up her nose; it had required a visit to the pediatrician to remove it.

I looked up at the clock nervously. If I couldn’t get it out, maybe the school nurse would remove it for me. I picked up a tweezer and a toothpick, random items left on top of the microwave.

The toothpick fit perfectly into the hole in the jingle bell, and it came smoothly out. She seemed to suffer no discomfort. “Phew!” Suddenly my nausea was gone. That fight-or-flight hormone adrenaline had kicked it out of my system. Thank God.

As we drove, I felt the pain in my right eye gradually dull, fading into my sinuses. We stopped at a light and the sun peaked out of the clouds at me. I found myself thanking the Lord for the headache, which had reminded me that I always need to ask for His Grace to get through a busy day of being a mom.

It was a long drive. When we arrived, the coach went into the gym and came out to tell us that, due to a drama rehearsal, the game was being delayed for a half hour. We were welcome to hang out in the snow-covered parking lot in the meantime. I realized we had forgotten to bring water. We took our extra time to go to McDonald’s for some nuggets and shakes. At least dinner was out of the way for the night.

The game started with the other team ahead. Finally, a close game, one worth watching, I thought. We had been undefeated, and none of the other teams had given us much of a challenge. I soon realized that the other team was composed of experienced eighth graders, towering over our mixed team of sixth, seventh, and eighth graders. By half-time it became apparent that we might be in for our first loss.

Our poor girls really suffered at the hands of the opposing team. There was scratching, slapping, kicking, elbowing…not a girl escaped without a mark to her face or body. Sure, they had fouls issued, but the damage was already done.

So we walked away from our first loss, bruised in body and ego, but knowing we had played by the rules and done our best. Kudos to the coaches as well, for giving all the sixth graders some playing time even when we were behind. I am sure every parent drove home giving their children lessons to be learned about sportsmanship even in the face of the lack of the same from the other team.

Some days just aren’t that great…but we can still glean some great thoughts from them. Like when you get a gift that is hard to appreciate at Christmas, but then you still remember it’s a gift. Every day in this walk is a gift, and with our children in them they are all golden.

Picture above is from a game played in Dec. 2009 - both teams displayed good sportsmanship in that game.

Our Whirlwind Cross Country/Softball Week

It has been a whirlwind of a week, followed by a tornado of a weekend! Last week we had two cross country races and five softball tournament practices. This weekend my girls each played in four softball tournament games. My older daughter then played a doubleheader for another softball team. Just when I thought I might have to go through softball withdrawal, she was recruited by the opposing team to possibly play in their tournament next weekend.

I could sit and write a whole chapter about each of the past seven days but I will just highlight some of the funny or poignant things that happened.

Last Tuesday, my eldest daughter came in first place at Belmont Lake State Park. ( My second daughter came in at number eleven, which is really excellent for a sixth grader. ) The previous race at that same course she had come in at number three. She was out front for most of the race, and then two runners were able to overtake her at the end. This time she had the stamina to keep up her pace to the finish line.

At both those races, when I saw her come out of the woods in front, I was so proud and joyful I thought I would burst. At the second one, I wanted to give her that last boost and I was jumping up and down cheering for her. My cell phone fell out of my pocket and I didn’t have time to look for it because we had to get to softball practice.

When we got home, I called my phone and a guy named Tim picked up. He was the gym teacher for one of the schools we had raced and was on his way to see the secretary of that school, who is the mother of one of my daughter’s best friends. So I had my phone back the next day. It just shows you don’t have to panic about every detail of your life. If you stay calm things have a way of working out.

Wednesday we went to Sunken Meadow State Park for another race. I had the entire girls’ team in my car and we got stuck in a traffic jam due to a car accident. I thought for sure that everyone else would be stuck in it and the race would be delayed. When we arrived two minutes late, the girls had just started their race and our coach was very worried about us. I had asked my daughter’s friend to take the battery out of my cell phone so she wouldn’t get in trouble for having it in school, and hadn’t yet reset it.

He talked to the officials and they allowed our girls to run with the boys, with our times being tabulated with the rest of the girls. So that all worked out and we continued on to softball again.

Saturday was a really long day. My daughters played in 10U and 12U teams for the SYAG Columbus Day Bash tournament of around 30 teams that were all playing each other. They each had three games that day. I had to sit in the bleachers from 8 AM to 6 PM; let me tell you, it hurts!

Sunday was busy too but more fun for me. They each had a game at 8:30 AM; the fields were about 30 seconds running distance from each other. I left the younger children at home and just kept running from field to field with my video camera. I was able to catch all the best plays of each game!

Then we went on to my older daughter’s 14U softball team. There was some kind of mix-up with the schedule and we wound up scrimmaging against a 16U softball team that is associated with our local school district. When we talked to their coach after the game, it turned out that he was looking for girls to play in his tournament next weekend and he said he might be able to use my daughter. He also handed me his card and told me about a tryout for a boys' baseball travel team for my son.

My head is full of decisions to be made about softball teams and high schools and all the decisions that are to be made when you’ve got a kid with a lot of potential, as well as how to balance what is best for each individual child with what is best for the family.

Running the race that lies before us

The first race for the Catholic Middle School Athletic Association this year was run on Yom Kippur at Sunken Meadow State Park. It was a marathon day for me; I choreographed the schedule the night before, including planning for a “meal” in the car.

I had to leave my house in the early afternoon to get to the school, pick up all the girls on the team, and drive them to Sunken Meadow State Park. After the race, we ate pepperoni, crackers, snap peas, and fruit on our way to softball practice. Near the field we stopped at McDonald’s for a 20-pack of chicken nuggets. I treated myself to a chocolate shake.

I remember the first year we started with organized sports. My eldest was 4 years old and we had started our official homeschooling for kindergarten. Soccer practice was the only place we had to be, twice a week; games were on Sundays. There was a family there with several foster children, who were all enrolled in teams in our local sports association.

“When do you eat?” I asked the mother incredulously.

“Sometimes we have to eat in the car,” she answered.

I was shocked. I would never let my family get so busy that we couldn’t sit down for a meal.

Eight years later, the joke is on me, and I remembered thinking that during the drive from cross country to softball. NEVER judge another parent until you have been in their shoes! As any professional runner will tell you, part of “running the race that lies before us” is never looking back to see what the other runners are doing.

You can see my eldest daughter (in the far right of this picture) as she breaks away from the pack and takes the lead in the first leg of this race. She is looking back, something one of her coaches noticed and pointed out to her. She finished up sixth in the race. My second daughter finished around number 20 and kept her focus straight ahead. Who did better? The motto of every runner is: “Do your personal best.”

This point is also made clear in one of the books in the C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia, “The Horse and His Boy”. The young girl asks Aslan what happened to a boy who had disobeyed and the answer is: “That is his story, not yours.”

According to The Catechism of the Catholic Church, the “great cloud of witnesses” includes all the saints from the beginning to the end of time. Saints are any people that are, or will be, accepted into Heaven; only the Lamb of God knows who these are for sure, but the Church will occasionally canonize those who have lived such a holy life that they are virtually certain they must be in Heaven.

These witnesses are all cheering us on, as we strive to achieve God’s plan for us. Going to Confession helps us to unburden the sins that are bogging us down. We are to keep our eyes on Jesus, not the people around us, during our race. That means not being too bothered by what others think of us, and not losing our focus by dwelling on what others are doing.

Hebrews 12: 1-2(NAB)
1
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us
2
while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God.

Commitment

Gathering The Grapes, 1875

The rain came back to Long Island today, like an old familiar friend who might be annoying but whom you feel comfortable around. I had been dreaming about softball, and woke up thinking about what had gone wrong with our travel team this year.

Commitment. It’s a word that people throw around and pretend they have, but how many really do? Last night I showed up for 6:00 12-and-under game at 5:15. The opposing team and their families, all in red, were all there. I sat there all alone in my greenery, notebook in hand to record our attendance. They started straggling in at 5:30, which is supposed to be the latest time that our girls get there.

Our managing coach was camping with his family that day and started getting phone calls in the late afternoon. “I decided to surprise my daughter with a ticket to the Jonas Brothers Concert tonight.” Repeated phone calls of this nature brought the roster down from 15 girls to 8.

At the same time, the mother who was supposed to bring my 10-year-old daughter to her practice (at a different location) had to cancel because she had to help another mother with her infant. There was some alternative plan of getting her there that involved leaving her an unknown person’s house. Something told me there was a reason she needed to stay with me that night, and I called her coach to explain; it was her first missed practice this season.

She came in her uniform – which matches that of the older team – and good thing she did, because they needed her to make 9 players. She held her own in the outfield, walked to first, and stole to second. I was proud.

Our girls were hitting last night, the fruits of the intense batting practice they had in the 90-degree weather this past Saturday. My 12-year-old hit a homerun. But the errors in the outfield were such that we just kept letting the other team score runs, and we ended early under the Mercy Rule. (After the fourth inning, if the other team is up by 10 points, the umpire can end the game.)

The parents who were there were all on the same page as me. You sign up for a team, you are responsible to the team to be there. All other plans should be made around the schedule you committed to. If you have too many commitments, maybe you should reprioritize.

The only reason we would miss a game (other than sickness) would be for religious sacraments within the family: marriages, burials, First Communions, Baptisms. God trumps sports. But He also is in all things including sports, and calls us to do all things in such a way that glorifies Him. In spiritual things Revelations 3:16 says, “So, because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.” Either do it all the way or don’t bother. There will be much pruning of the branches of this team’s vine come the fall.

John
Chapter 15
1
"I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine grower.
2
He takes away every branch in me that does not bear fruit, and everyone that does he prunes so that it bears more fruit.
3
You are already pruned because of the word that I spoke to you.
4
Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.
5
I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.
6
Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither; people will gather them and throw them into a fire and they will be burned.
7
If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.
8
By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.

Passion: Softball Fever

St Cecelia

I feel like I must be boring everyone now because all I can think about is softball. Not only do we play it every day. Everywhere we go we bump into people from one of the teams: at the beach, Wal-mart, King Kullen. I often forget which team they are from. We just call them softball people.

When friends and family call and ask me what is new, my mind is a blank. Life seems to be just one continuous softball game, abbreviated by meals, sleeping, and swimming. When I get on the computer, the first thing I do is my daily updates for the team website, before any writing or personal emailing.

I think it is important for people to be passionate about something. All my life I have been drawn to people who threw their energy into one particular cause or activity, even if it was something I was not interested in. One of my friends in college was a horsewoman. I am not at all interested in horses, but my first conversation with her (on the plane to Budapest, where I spent a semester) she spoke with such brilliance in her eyes about her love of horseback riding. We became fierce friends from then on.

As an adult I am naturally drawn to people with similar interests, and my closest friends tend to be dedicated to the pro-life cause or writing. When you spend a great deal of time with people watching softball games or cross-country meets, you develop a comraderie of sorts. In softball, you are all dedicated to the success of your children in the sport. In running, many parents simply want to keep their children in good physical condition, and the goal is always simply to “do your best”.

I want my children to be well-rounded; so we participate in a great variety of activities, but all is scheduled around their first love. Meals are scheduled at 9, 12, and 4, so we can be well-nourished before the evening’s practice(s) or game(s). All friends are on notice that we are only available between 10 and 3. These summer nights they are permitted to go to bed late and sleep late, so they can be well-rested for the next day of activity.

Made in God’s image, we are called to build and maintain strength of mind, body, and spirit. This is just one way of going about it.

Sirach
Chapter 17
1
The LORD from the earth created man, and in his own image he made him.
2
Limited days of life he gives him and makes him return to earth again.
3
He endows man with a strength of his own, and with power over all things else on earth.
4
He puts the fear of him in all flesh, and gives him rule over beasts and birds.
5
He forms men's tongues and eyes and ears, and imparts to them an understanding heart.
6
With wisdom and knowledge he fills them; good and evil he shows them.
7
He looks with favor upon their hearts, and shows them his glorious works,
8
That they may describe the wonders of his deeds and praise his holy name.
9
He has set before them knowledge, a law of life as their inheritance;

State of Grace

Chicago Cubs 1966

As I sat scrutinizing my ten-year-old daughter’s every move, I was vaguely aware of the comments parents around me were making. In the outfield, she never let a ball get past her, but occasionally hesitated while deciding where the play would go. This is her way – never hasty, always thinking before acting. Through practice, these plays will come automatically to her and the thought processes will connect like lightning.

“Get the ball to the pitcher!” a mother behind me yelled.

It was an overthrow, and another parent groaned.

I felt my blood boiling. How quickly they forget the great plays my kid made last game, and the errors their own daughters frequently make in the field. I knew that they were feeding off the intensity of the assistant coach that day. If the always-calm head coach were there the whole atmosphere would have been different.

One of the mothers walked away and two others immediately started whispering about her. “She’s the most disorganized mother I ever met,” said one to the other.

So she was a little late to the game. She came with her truck loaded with toys and food to keep the younger siblings occupied for the next four hours; it was a double-header. I couldn’t believe how people could act so friendly to one another and say mean, unfair things behind their backs.

Many of the parents decided to stay for pizza and a parent-child game. “I have dinner planned,” I said, which was true. Even truer was the fact that I had had enough of these people for four hours.

A good friend of mine talks about living in a “state of grace”. This is the sort of person that displays a Christ-like attitude and is lost as to an explanation for others’ non-loving behavior. The more one listens to the Holy Spirit, the more the world is going to bother you. This is best explained by this passage in Romans 6.

Romans
Chapter 6

1
1 What then shall we say? Shall we persist in sin that grace may abound? Of course not!
2
How can we who died to sin yet live in it?
3
Or are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?
4
We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live in newness of life.
5
For if we have grown into union with him through a death like his, we shall also be united with him in the resurrection.
6
We know that our old self was crucified with him, so that our sinful body might be done away with, that we might no longer be in slavery to sin.
7
For a dead person has been absolved from sin.
8
If, then, we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with him.
9
We know that Christ, raised from the dead, dies no more; death no longer has power over him.
10
As to his death, he died to sin once and for all; as to his life, he lives for God.
11
Consequently, you too must think of yourselves as (being) dead to sin and living for God in Christ Jesus.
12
2 Therefore, sin must not reign over your mortal bodies so that you obey their desires.
13
And do not present the parts of your bodies to sin as weapons for wickedness, but present yourselves to God as raised from the dead to life and the parts of your bodies to God as weapons for righteousness.
14
For sin is not to have any power over you, since you are not under the law but under grace.
15
What then? Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace? Of course not!
16
Do you not know that if you present yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness?
17
But thanks be to God that, although you were once slaves of sin, you have become obedient from the heart to the pattern of teaching to which you were entrusted. 3
18
Freed from sin, you have become slaves of righteousness.
19
I am speaking in human terms because of the weakness of your nature. For just as you presented the parts of your bodies as slaves to impurity and to lawlessness for lawless ness, so now present them as slaves to righteousness for sanctification.
20
For when you were slaves of sin, you were free from righteousness. 4
21
But what profit did you get then from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death.
22
But now that you have been freed from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit that you have leads to sanctification, 5 and its end is eternal life.
23
For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Resolved: At the next game, I will try to rein in my own hurt feelings if I overhear comments about my daughter, and do my best to be a positive influence on those around me.

The Championship Game

High Fly

It was like a miracle that my twelve-year-old daughter’s softball team made it to the final championship game. My husband even came home early so he could see the second half of it. The most important part was that we were there. As one dad said, “The rest of it is just gravy.”

We were the first from our team to get there and the other coach was apparently unaware of my daughters’ presence as he spoke to his girls. “He said they are going to win by a huge lead!” my ten-year-old reported to me. We love that coach because he is in charge of the travel teams, where they are learning a great deal, but she was indignant. She had made enough cupcakes to share with the other team and decided then and there that she was not going to share them.

Numerous complaints had been made over the week by the previously undefeated team that we had beat in the playoffs, attempting to protest on every ground possible. Therefore the head umpire was present, along with four of his best underlings. Several times per inning they all huddled together as we parents looked at each other quizzically.

We held them well until the third inning, when they started to score. I really didn’t care about the score; I just wanted to see what kinds of plays my daughter would make at first base.

I looked every now and then to check on my other children. My almost-three-year-old was adorable horsing around with some slightly older girls. My eight-year-old son had brought the boy next door and the three of them were over on a huge dirt hill, throwing dirt and pebbles; the coach’s son was wielding a huge sewer pipe from a trash heap. My ten-year-old daughter was playing near the boys with another coach’s daughter.

His cell phone rang. “The girls have to use the bathroom,” he reported. Only in 2009 will a girl use a cell phone to talk to her dad when they are only a few hundred yards away! My husband was now there to take our toddler, so I ran over to take the girls to the school.

We found that the soap was working but the sinks were not; however, the water fountain was in order. The girls were busy playing with the soap and looking curiously at the wrestling team as they practiced in the gym. I walked out of the school just in time to see my daughter bat a run in – one of the only two runs we would score in that game. I jumped up and down in excitement.

We lost 7 to 2, but we were happy. My toddler was just happy to finally be allowed to eat the cupcakes we had made for the occasion. There were enough siblings from our team that they all disappeared quite quickly.

I got an email from that other coach that my daughter played a great game - and so, he was forgiven quite as quickly.

Small Successes: Spring Softball Edition

This week my successes belong to my athletic children. When we mothers give up so much of our time to our children’s endeavors, the fruits of that feel like a success for us as well. This feels a little like bragging, but I’ve shared the failures on our way as well, so here goes…

1. We ended the spring ball season for my younger two without my having a heart attack from having to occasionally be at three games at the same time.

2. My eldest daughter’s losing-streak softball team beat the undefeated team in the playoffs! This felt like a victory for us parents as well because we had to encourage and suffer along with them all season.

3. My two daughters made the summer softball travel team and have already started to learn a great deal, even through losing their first summer travel game.


This is a list of things I have been thankful for this week:

1. Sitting on a sunny field where kids are playing ball games everywhere and my toddler is on top of a giant dirt hill in her pretty pink dress and white sandals. (Later, I would be thankful all the dirt washed out.)

2. Going to a friend's house and sharing life stories.

3. Having the kids asleep in their beds after a long, busy day.

See what small success other moms are thankful for over at Volume 22 of Small Successes at Faith and Family Live.

The Impossible Dream

Jackie Robinson Stealing Home, May 18, 1952

I wrote last week about the unusually unfriendly (for our league) rivalry between my oldest girl’s softball team, which went into the playoffs with a 0-16 record, and another cut-throat team, whose record was 16-0. We played them tonight in the play-offs.

The other team had assumed they were going to beat us and advance to the championship game. Before the game, they commented that this was their practice game for the next one. Our team had a little bit of hope, as our last game against them had been quite close.

There was no score through the second inning. With two outs on us, we suddenly scored four runs. We held them at 4-0 until the fifth inning, when they scored two runs. My toddler fell asleep on my lap and I was unable to move, clap, or yell. I was so emotional I knew I was going to cry at the end of the game.

The head ump said the second one didn’t count. At the top of the sixth, he changed his mind and gave it back to them; we scored no runs. At the bottom of the sixth, they scored one more run. It was 4-3, 2 outs, with a girl on third base and no more steals allowed. We got the last out of the game and I did burst into tears of happiness.

There were a few tears shed on the other side as well, tears of disappointment. There was great rejoicing on our side. We had finally won a game and were advancing to the championship game – one that many had crossed off their calendars.

I have written in the past about how failures must be celebrated. In this case, our success here was made even sweeter by the bitter taste of failure that had preceded it. The coach of the team we will be playing next week was cheering us on as the underdogs. It doesn’t even matter who wins that game – we proved that anyone can be a winner, with persistence.

Sirach Chapter 11 (NAB):
“11
One may toil and struggle and drive, and fall short all the more.
12
Another goes his way a weakling and a failure, with little strength and great misery-- Yet the eyes of the LORD look favorably upon him; he raises him free of the vile dust,
13
Lifts up his head and exalts him to the amazement of the many.”

Playing Dirty

The Baseball Game

This year my eldest daughter happened to be placed with the worst team of the league. It isn’t that her teammates can’t play – several of them have great raw ability and were selected for the summer travel team. The problem is that they have received no coaching this spring. The coach has called no practices and doesn’t have much to say during the games. The parents have picked up the slack, yelling from the sidelines where the plays are supposed to be going to. Most of the time, I have had to be at games for my younger children and have missed out on the horrible experience of watching a team that looks like the Peanuts gang.

They have not won a single game. This has been extremely discouraging for the girls. At the All-Star Game, we were teamed up with the best team in the league, much to the other team’s chagrin. One girl, who happens to be physically an excellent athlete but socially displays a really bad attitude, was selected for the All-Star Team and refused to play with us because she said we would make her lose! When news got around of this the girls were not too happy.

The All-Star Game actually was quite excellent. But when we played against them this Monday night, tempers were hot (parents included, although we keep our complaints to whispers and are polite to the other team). For most of the game, the other team would not hit any balls that were pitched to them; they waited to be walked. One of our pitchers got such a severe headache that she had to go on the disabled list. One of our girls was hit hard in the leg by a ball, en route to first base, and also had to go out.

Another of our pitchers decided to take matters into her own hands. She hit the snotty above-mentioned girl in the rear end. It looked to us like she had walked into it, and we had to laugh when she said, “Ooh, you got me in my booty!” and ran gingerly to first base. Said pitcher was next up at bat and coincidentally also got hit in the rear end.

At the last inning, my daughter was pitching to the snotty girl who had started it all. She gave her a good pitch and the girl returned it, hard, a line drive down center field. My daughter caught it and ran to home with it before the girl got to first, and she was out – the last out of the game.

My daughter was horrified when her friend confided to her that she had purposely hit the snotty girl in the rear end. I said that I was proud of her for doing things the proper way. We were all glad for the game to end on that note. But I was sad to see the poor teamswomanship that had been displayed during this dramatic ball game.

Later, my husband told me this was part of the intimidation game between pitcher and batter that normally goes on in professional baseball. But, I said, these are young girls, and most of them are friends on and off the field. Shouldn’t this cut-throat behavior be prohibited in friendly Little League games?

Moments like these are real teachable moments for all parents involved. We have to talk about the behavior we have seen. It is hard not to be judgmental about the characters of those who have not acted well. We are trying to show them that how they act in such situations really does build what kind of character you will have – yet not condemn the guilty individuals as being bad characters already, at such an impressionable age.

Sirach
Chapter 30
“1
He who loves his son chastises him often, that he may be his joy when he grows up.
2
He who disciplines his son will benefit from him, and boast of him among his intimates.
3
He who educates his son makes his enemy jealous, and shows his delight in him among his friends.
4
At the father's death, he will seem not dead, since he leaves after him one like himself,
5
Whom he looks upon through life with joy, and even in death, without regret:
6
The avenger he leaves against his foes, and the one to repay his friends with kindness.
7
He who spoils his son will have wounds to bandage, and will quake inwardly at every outcry.
8
A colt untamed turns out stubborn; a son left to himself grows up unruly.
9
Pamper your child and he will be a terror for you, indulge him and he will bring you grief.
10
Share not in his frivolity lest you share in his sorrow, when finally your teeth are clenched in remorse.
11
Give him not his own way in his youth, and close not your eyes to his follies.
12
Bend him to the yoke when he is young, thrash his sides while he is still small, Lest he become stubborn, disobey you, and leave you disconsolate.
13
Discipline your son, make heavy his yoke, lest his folly humiliate you. “

- NAB

An Explosion of Activity

In the dead of winter, when there is time to write, the ideas eventually start to peter out. I wonder if I will run out of things to write about. Then spring comes and – BOOM! – there is an explosion of activity, with ideas speeding around my head like a group of electrons threatening to collide, and there is no time to write!

Things have gotten worse in regards to my schedule. I am having very un-Christian thoughts about the people who decided it would be a good idea to have all the grades have their science fair on the same date this year. However, I am wishing I hadn’t gotten myself all stressed out by worrying in advance. Everything is getting done, although I am losing my cool more often than usual.

I keep having wrenches thrown in the works. Like a jury summons. In order to request an excusal, I had to write a letter explaining that I am the primary caregiver to four minors, enclosing copies of birth certificates as proof, and explaining why I could not get someone else to watch them. Just one more thing to add to the long list of things to do this week.

Things are coming together for my son’s First Communion. We got the hardest part of the banner done today. He picked out the symbols he wanted and I cut them out and glued them on. I may add some embellishments later, but the basics are done. Most of the food shopping has been done, and the order placed for heroes and salads. His hair was freshly cut and he looks adorable.

I spent the day cleaning his room. On a daily and weekly basis, this is his own responsibility, but once a year or so it becomes necessary to really get in there and do a thorough revamping. A glance behind a dresser reveals a wealth of socks, legos, and other small items that have fallen back there. All furniture must be moved, dusted, and vacuumed behind. As my husband left for work, I joked about being like the Holy Spirit who restored order to the Earth that was void.

Several hours later, my son arrived home to find all his toys sorted. Cars, legos, Lincoln logs, assorted figurines, blocks, marbles, baseball cards, and miscellaneous small items. He really does enjoy having things organized like this, but things do tend to get out of control when several creative children live in the house! (I also did this for my ten-year-old last month, while she was at a sleepover, but my almost-twelve-year-old has gotten the hang of it, and values her privacy, so I let her room be.)

Here is where you may think I am a little crazy. I spent a good part of the weekend out in the rain watching my girls try out for the summer travel softball team. Why, oh why, would you want to extend the season for several more weeks, you might ask. This is where I agree with my mother-in-law, who likes to cite a study in which people were asked to select a problem they would like to have in lieu of their own; most people chose their own problems.

I am not trying to boast here when I say my kids have athletic ability. All kids have some kind of God-given talent and it is up to us to nurture that. This travel team is professionally run by a group of soft-hearted guys who really teach the girls how to play ball, and display good sportswomanship. The girls they play with are really terrific kids, and I would love for my girls to get to bond with them before high school.

I am having a problem wrapping this up, so I’ll leave you with this helpful list.

Tips for coping in times of stress:
Don’t stress out if it’s not going to be helpful.
Remember to pray throughout the day.
Carry a pocket devotional with you – there are always periods of waiting when you can get two minutes of soul food in.
Carry nuts (if not allergic), granola bars, water, and baby wipes in the car.
Never rush in and out of the car even when in a hurry – this is when driveway accidents happen.
Close the day with prayer and time with God’s Word.

“The Creation” by Matthaeus Merian the Elder, 1625-30