I was digging through my old posts of my last year long daily blog, and I'm pathetically thrilled that I have a daily diary of my vagabond life with two kids. Like in a "awww look how cute and funny my kids were" kind of way. And I thought about how many funny things the kids say or do now that they're bigger that I want to remember someday. Sooo, for some stupid reason, I decided to set up another post-every-day-for-a-year challenge. I'm a glutton for punishment.
I tried to start it up again in San Diego. But with Brad being deployed basically the entire time, I basically threw up my hands with a resolute "eff it". And I might throw my hands up on this one too. We'll see.
Unfortunately, now that the kids are older (busier), it's going to be that much harder. So don't expect a lot of stories like I used to tell. (And honestly, I couldn't give a shit if you read whatever story I tell anyways). Maybe just a picture and a caption. So here we are, it's day 1!
I do however, have a story for tonight.
It's almost spring in California and that means baseball season is already here. Baseball is a big deal in our family. Calen has played for two full years now, going on his third. And poor little Cam, who has been begging since he was 2 to play, is finally, finally, on his first tball team this spring. His second practice was today.
I was a little worried about Cam playing. He's fiercely competitive (like me). But when I say fierce, I mean angry, pissy, feet stomping tantrum fierce. He couldn't handle soccer last summer, when, if another kid took the ball away from him, he'd throw himself on the floor and scream. Or tackle the ball like a football. Or tackle the kid like a football player. But baseball? Where you have to stand around and wait for the ball to come to you (or more infuriatingly, NOT come to you)? I'm not sure if he could handle it.
But I knew it would probably be funny.
I wasn't disappointed today. He was over on that blah left side (3rd, short, left-center), where the majority of hitters (being righties) don't hit the ball that way. So every hit he'd stomp his feet, put on his whine face, turn and wail to the coach and it's HIS turn, yell at the other kids ("HEY!!!!!!") when they got the ball (and it wasn't even close to Cam). His face was red and splotchy and tears streaming down his face and he was mad.
And suddenly, you're that parent, the one with that kid that can't get his shit together like every other kid on the field. This is that shadowy part of real parenting no one warns you about.
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| This is the face of whining. This is real, raw parenting here people. |
And then he wasn't paying attention, and didn't realize the kid was throwing it to him. A perfect, arcing throw. That landed on top of Camden's head.
"Heyyyyy!!! You HIT me!!"
And after he was done throwing a fit that he got hit (not that he got hurt), he got to bat! His favorite! Excitement again!
And then it was over, and he was back to whining.
I expected him to tell me after that he hated baseball and never wanted to play again.
But he got in the car and said he loved his baseball team and couldn't wait to play again on Saturday.
(hands up) Whatever you want, kid.
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| First base is dangerous....they should have handed him a helmet too. |
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