Like Sammy Sosa!

Remember Sammy Sosa? Most famously, he is known for his home run contest with Mark McGuire about ten years ago. For some reason, my boys have attached his name with baseball excellence. So, it was no surprise when last week, Evan told me he was planning to be like Sammy Sosa at his first Tee Ball practice.

For Evan, being Sammy Sosa meant a couple of things:

1. Wearing his hat sideways: Now, I know that Sammy Sosa never wore his hat like that. (Or, at least he didn't play baseball with his hat like that.) However, my adorable four year old thinks otherwise, and judging from the cute face he is donning in this picture, I don't plan to contradict him.

2. Hitting home runs like a rock star : Ev was truly light years ahead of most of his time for batting. He was slamming the ball off of the tee that night, eliciting responses like "WOW! You must be practicing at home!" To which I quickly let them know that he was the youngest of three boys. Case Closed.
3. Running the bases -- super speed. This he accomplished with flair, galloping from base to base and adding an extra leap at home plate.

He had so much fun that I know these upcoming baseball games will be undoubtedly hilarious and super cute. His first game is Monday so stay tuned for updates.
By the way, looking at these little pictures, Sammy Sosa has nothing on my little Evan. Watch out Major League Baseball!

Watch out for the mental mom at the baseball game.

Warning: If you see a crazy woman sitting in her "mom chair" watching her grown up nine year old play baseball, stay far away. I guarantee you that she's near a breakdown.

On Sunday of this week, I watched Andrew play baseball for the first time this summer. He is now on a kid pitch team, where instead of the coaches, the kids are actually the pitchers. As I watched the very first inning, I laughed at myself sitting in my fold-able blue parent chair that we all carry around like they are precious jewels. I laughed at my bored other boys nagging me in the background as I kept just telling them "Go do something." (They eventually went to the park.) I laughed at the dads, so intense watching their boys play a sport that the dad once loved, too.

Then, all I could think of was my past. About 25 years ago, I sat in similar chairs-- although those chairs were more like aluminum and definitely less comfortable. The chairs always had a hole somewhere where the fabric had torn apart. But, 25 years ago, I was the kid, bored to tears, being forced to watch my brothers in one of their-- what seemed like millions-- of baseball games. Tif and I would always find the nearest park to go and romp around so that we didn't have to just sit. Or, we would beg mom for a spare quarter to frequent the concession stand for some sugary treat.

All of those thoughts poured into my mind at once, and I began fighting the brimming tears in my eyes. How could those memories have happened 25 years ago? How did time fly so fast that I am now sitting in the same spots watching my boys play the game? I truly was momentarily overwhelmed. Grateful that sun glasses were hiding my hysteria, I regrouped and watched the rest of the scrimmage.

I know that time is a constant battle where I will never be the victor. The boys are growing up, and no one is stopping that. Yet what scares me more is that behind the scenes of their life, somewhere I am also aging and growing up. I almost completely lost sight of that. It was that realization that hit me at the game. My only solution? Just keep living life to its fullest and enjoy the boys and my family while they are young. Each step will pass me quickly. In 25 years, maybe they will be sitting in chairs having a nostalgic breakdown, too.

This summer will be the first where all three boys are on separate baseball teams. Sitting in my comfy blue chair will be part of my daily routine. We have baseball games Monday,Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday this summer starting next week. So, I hope I can hold it together the rest of the time.

It's Showtime, baby!

Having parents who are members at two or three of their local theaters will influence who you are. I remember going to watch plays and musicals growing up, and even before that, when mom and dad couldn't afford that yet, we would watch musicals as a family in our living room.

So, it truly was no surprise when as an adult, I also had the desire to go to shows of all sorts.

Two weeks ago, Chris and I went to see Jason Mraz perform at a local venue. Feeling somewhat like teens, we kissed our kids good night and headed to dinner and drinks. We then watched and thoroughly enjoyed Jason Mraz sing. I have had a recent obsession with his music. Truly, I just like the soft tone of his voice as well as the relaxed delivery of his songs. --- He did not disappoint me-- Mraz was awesome!

I danced my heart out, singing probably a little too loudly for those near me, but I did it anyways. We had standing room only "seats" so finding a place where a 5'2'' person had an unobstructed view of the stage was somewhat challenging, but we did it. Ultimately, it was an evening where we could relax without worries about bedtimes, deadlines or papers!

Then, just this past Friday, I and a few friends from work went to see an opera. Yes- I said Opera, as in the place where the fat lady actually sings. . . It was legit, too! The performers sang in another language, and all the words needed to be interpreted on the prompter so we knew what was happening.

Our fellow teacher was actually a performer in the opera Faust, so we decided to go and watch him as part of the "Company." Honestly, it was a unique experience. Admittedly, I was confused about the action a good portion of the time. When I wasn't reading the prompter, I was watching the people, but as I watched the people, I didn't know what was going on. So, then I would read, and I would miss the action on the stage.

This is the opera where the guy sells his soul to the devil, then the devil eventually gets revenge on this guy's lover and baby. The plot was macabre, and so was the show in general. However, I did leave the evening with immense respect for the performers. I can't imagine how difficult it is to do what they do. I also am pleased we went to see our colleague. He expressed his thanks after the show, and it made most of us a little teary-eyed to hear that.

So, I don't have any more shows lined up yet, but if genes are any predictors, I will soon!

Mommy dearest

Growing up, I always loved Mother's Day. For our family it meant getting mom a corsage to wear to church, dinner with all the family, and lots of relaxation. (Admittedly, mom didn't get a bunch of relaxation because she was cooking for us all! Shame on us.) I liked the unity and sense of family that holiday brought.

One of the difficulties about being away from home on holidays of any sort is that I really miss the family time those days bring. I was so sad to talk to mom on Mother's Day to hear of the beautiful baptism of my niece and sister in law that day as well as the traditional dinner and socializing that I was missing.

However, we have established new traditions that help bring our family closer together. The day began with a beautiful breakfast made by both Chris and Andrew. Andrew poured and flipped the pancakes and was so proud to share them with me.

I was showered with awesome Mother's Day gifts from my favorite men:

Andrew gave me a stunning ceramic bowl made in his art class. I also loved his book of poems that he created for me.

My favorite poem was his poem about his mom. Here it is:

Brendan also was busy creating things at school as he made something that I can hang on my wall and put whatever I want to in it. I found the perfect place in the kitchen and will be hanging it soon.

Evan made lots of treats at preschool. He made me a bookmark that I am excited to start using tonight-- it will replace the Dick's Sporting Goods mailer that I have been using. I also received some sweet cards with his hand prints as well as a free pizza coupon to Pizza Hut.

Even daddy got in the mood with gift cards to a few of my favorite places. I can't wait to spend them!

One of my favorite parts of the day came in the afternoon when we all went to Culver's for my free Mother's Day Sunday -- my choice was Chocolate with peanut butter sauce covered in Reeses Cups. Mmmm. . . We all just sat and enjoyed some time together. Then, the big guys golfed and Evan and I played together.

Truly, it was a great day to be mom. Brendan said it best: "It's like your very own Christmas." I couldn't agree more.

Go Climb a Tree: Friday Photo Fiesta

Traditional kid stereotypes place kids in all sorts of precarious predicaments: swimming with no adults, sneaking around town, or climbing as high as they can get in a tree. However, today's kids tend to fall short; sadly, the most adventurous some get is sitting in front of a television screen exercising their thumbs.

Some days this describes my boys as well; they have a mild -- major. .. -- obsession with our Wii. But, today, they were being kids, and for the first time, they went and climbed a tree! Of course, I ran out there with my camera to capture their intrepid launch a mere 4 feet from the ground.



It is so great to see the boys just being boys!

Words Every Parent Never Wants to Hear

As a parent, certain words can cause alarm when used in reference with your child-- many of which I can't even write without cause for absolute hysteria. Today, I had to take Evan to the doctor and he was using way too many of those terms.

It all began yesterday when I received a mildly frantic call from his daycare where Ev's teacher described a bad headache Evan had. She said he complained a little in the morning that it hurt, but by around 12:30, his head bothered him enough that he was screaming and crying about the pain. When I picked him up, he was sitting in a chair not moving at all. As we walked to the car, tears started streaming as he indicated to me how bad his head hurt when he walked. No fever. Just pain. I treated him with Motrin when we got home. 45 minutes later he was fine.

Today, he didn't express any hurts this morning, so I sent him to my friend Mary's for the day. Mary called me at 12:30. Same story. Different day. His head started hurting in the late morning; by 12:30, he was screaming and crying until he cried himself to sleep. No fever. Just pain.

So, I called the doctor and took Evan this afternoon. The doctor began asking me questions and telling me things that topped my list of Things I Never Want to Hear:

* So, is there a family history of any neurological disorders like Multiple Sclerosis or others?

* Have you noticed him having a lack of coordination, slurring, or blacking out during the headaches?

* (To Evan) Do you ever see two of something or funny colors when you have your headache?

* I am going to look in his eyes now to see through them to look at the nerves. I do this to see if there is any swelling of the brain.

* I think I can rule out a tumor at this point because of his physical condition.

Can you feel my anxiety increase with each utterance? What? Seriously? I placidly masked my hysteria with questions upon questions. The doctor kept asking me questions as well.

Ultimately, Evan looked great physically. The doctor thinks it could be the onset of migraine headaches. He admits that the regularity of the last two days doesn't necessary fit the pattern of migraines, but he can't find any other issues thus far.

Our plan of action? Watch Evan. See if he gets more headaches. If they continue through the weekend, I need to go back and see the doctor next week.

For now, I hope to never hear any more scary words. Migraine doesn't scare me that much-- just makes me a little sad for my baby four year old. . . I'll keep you posted.

He's a Big Kid Now

Having kids means confronting "firsts" on a frequent basis that you may or may not be ready for. I fondly remember Andrew's first smile, first step, first word, first sentence --You do it!--, first day of school. However, this past weekend I realized that even bigger firsts are rapidly approaching.

In fourth grade at Andrew's school, Tackle Football begins, so last weekend was the sign up for football. He had been wavering about playing for a number of reasons:

1. Playing football eliminates the ability to play soccer in the fall. Football has practice 3-4 days a week during the week, and they play games on Saturday morning. Soccer wouldn't stand a chance in the face of that daunting schedule.

2. He is worried about being bored on the sideline. Ok- this could have just been an excuse bred of fear about number 3.

3. He is afraid of getting hurt. -- Yeah, I am afraid of that for him, too!- He is worried that some big fourth grader who weighs more than a couple of bags of solar salt may hurt him when knocking him over. Truly, this is a legitimate concern. Not even the thought of pads could deter him from this panic.

Yet, ultimately, he loves throwing the ball around and playing catch, so he decided that he wants to try it for next year. So, we went to sign ups on Saturday, and I watched very "Big Boy" things happen.

1. He had to try on a jersey and pads to find out what size he would be. First of all, that is so stinkin' cute to see a little nine year old in pads. And, it is so stinkin' scary to think of the reason he needs them.

2. He was running around high-fiving and talking to his friends from school. He reminded me of what his near future will be where his buddies are significantly cooler than mom.

3. When I was filling out the forms, I was stopped dead in my tracks at one line: Insurance provider and account number. I looked at the lady and inquired if I really needed to give her that. She scoffed at me and said "Of course- What is he gets hurt?" Hmm. . . Maybe Andrew's #3 concern is legitimate. Yikes!

So, I signed my life away and watched Andrew proudly claim the number 53 as his uniform number next year. (Secretly, I told him that his scrawny frame probably merits more like a 10 than a 53, but we will work on that later. ) For a moment, I paused to reflect on just how big he is getting. He is going to play football-- like real football. Not the football where I give him a mini football and he runs around the living room laughing like when he was two.

This "first" is a big one for me-- yet another reminder that his childhood is short lived and that I need to continue to savor every moment I have.

The Visit: Part Two-- Tif

(Sorry for the delay with Part Two- I am buried in papers again!)

When I was growing up, Tim was five years older than me, Jeff was four years older than me, and Tif was three years younger. Like most kids, I always wanted to be "older" than I was, so I found myself gravitating towards my brothers as I got into middle and high school. Tif and I had fun when it was just the two of us at home, driving to school in our crummy van; however, we were not nearly as close as we are now.

As adults, Tif and I have formed a close relationship, so I relish the idea of her visiting once a year more than anything.

To explain what Tif and I enjoyed doing last weekend is difficult. We laughed alot and chatted alot, but most of it seems silly out of context. Yet, here I will attempt to explain a few.

* Tif enjoyed taunting me with her poison ivy infected checkerboard looking arm that she was constantly bandaging and rebandaging to help avoid the spread of the ivy. She did her best to infect us all by leaving the old blue towel that she was wiping her arm with in the bathroom. Andrew confessed: "I've been wiping my hands on that all weekend." GREAT!

* We giggled like little girls when we were watching TV on Friday night. There was a threat of a thunderstorm, so one TV channel was putting a visual warning in what was supposed to be the corner of the TV. (The cloud looked kind of like the one below.)
As we watched that evening, the cloud began moving from the top corner to what was almost the middle of the screen. We would laugh hysterically as TV characters seems to have a "dark cloud following them" or were running from the threatening storm. (You really had to be there to truly understand the hilarity.)

* We savored so many good treats together on Saturday that neither of us had the energy to share an evening drink together. Chex Mix, Culver's custard, brownies and more created too much for us to handle.

More than anything, I just liked being with my sister. I like just being in the same living room together like when we were kids. Living so far away doesn't allow us to see each other that often. We talk on the phone a few times a week, but there is something special about being face to face with each other. I can better appreciate what a great person and mom she really is.

Truly, I am just so grateful to have an awesome sister that I can call my best friend, too.