Batter Up!

Congratulate me (or pity me, I haven't decided) --- I have officially made the transition from Unisex T-Ball to Boys Minor League Baseball and Girls Softball T-Ball!  Wow.  It's very different, isn't it?  Wow.  Who knew?  Well, anyone with a kid in Little League, I guess!  I'm embarrassed at my naivete!  The politics and melodrama is staggering!!  I don't see it much (yet) in the Softball League but Little League?! Oh my!

See, I always thought of politics at the government and corporate office level (sometimes they intertwine, don't they...but that's another lesson for another day!)  I knew, too, that there were those parents who took the sport way too seriously.  My friends or family would complain about the coach or the other players or the other players' parents and I'd think, "Really? You're getting this upset over Little League?!"  But now I see all too clearly!  I have found myself complaining about the coach and some of the rules; sniping at some of the other parents and even at some of the players (behind their backs, of course, to actually snipe at them would be rude...ahem.)  I've lamented about Leo only playing half the game while others his age play the whole game (yeah, so they're better, what about it?!)  I've sounded like Vince Lombardi in the locker room before the big game giving Leo a pep talk about bending his knees in his batter's stance, staying in ready position in the field, no dancing in right field, no blowing bubbles that impede his ability to see past said bubble, to keep his glove on his hand not on his head, etc.  You know, the stuff the MLB moms stress about with their boys (I wonder if we could get Mrs. Jeter or Halliday to confirm).  Gene's and my pillow talk is usually a recap of the game or practice.  I know, steamy, right?!

The parents complain about the coaches, the coaches complain about the League higher-ups, the League higher-ups complain about the coaches AND the parents and everyone is sweet and lovely and chatty when face to face at the fields.  Peyton Place, I'm telling you!  Whoever out there thinks men are not as bad if not WORSE than women when it comes to gossip and hurt feelings is saaaaadly mistaken!  Whoa Nellie!

Yes, it's a whole new world for this girl.  I will say I've met some of the nicest people (and of course not-so nice)!  People I would most likely never have met otherwise.  I've gotten to sit out in the fresh air and enjoy watching an evening of baseball (well, of boys running around on a diamond-shaped field, anyway) or watching an evening or morning of practice while simultaneously sharing in adult conversation.  You can always tell a parent that's got a kid in a sport; they can have a complete conversation without making eye contact with you once!  I think I'll actually miss it when it's over.  We're in the play-offs stage at the moment; double elimination...very exciting!  By this time next week I'll be missing those parents (no, not all of them) and the conversation, and watching Leo get more and more into the sport (he actually got a killer hit last night).  I'm not too worried though.....

Swim Team meets start next week.

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

THE ANTICIPATION OF SUMMER

So we're coming to the close of yet another school year; the temporary shutting off of 6:30 alarm clocks and 7 a.m. breakfasts consisting of Cheerios and threats.  Another Summer awaits.  Pools, beaches, backyard sprinklers, PB&J at the picnic table, and the slathering of #50 sunblock.  I can't wait!  I have a feeling I will be using those same three words come mid August regarding the start of the new school year, but for now, bring on the lazy Summer days!

Actually, I'm not sure how lazy they'll be initially.  Both Leo and Cathy are on our pool club's swim team (GO TARNSFIELD TORPEDOES!) and Leo is trying out for both travel soccer and tournament little league baseball.  I don't think he'll do both, I think he just wants to secure a backup plan!  I won't be devastated if he doesn't do either one, but I think he's really hoping to get on the soccer team as "Baseball's boring.  That's why I dance and jump around out in left-center; I have to entertain myself 'til the ball comes!"  Aaaaanyway...

So with lots of vacations planned (both mini and maxi), sports to play (both organized and not-so organized), sunblock to apply, and water to be swum in, I'm thinking the Summer will go by pretty quickly.  I know it will go by more quickly than last year as I've noticed the older and more independent the kids get, the faster the Summer goes.  Probably because I don't have to have every moment filled with some sort of entertainment.  Both my kids love to read and pretend play and color and draw and swing on the swing and splash in the sprinkler and play wiffle ball together that most times, if they permit me, I can sit on the patio and read and call it "watching the kids".  As long as I don't mind the occasional interruption for a drink or a Band-Aid or a quick tattle, they usually grant me the time.  And now that we've joined a swim club, though I can't read while they're swimming (sorry life guard, it's not that I don't trust you I just don't trust you!) I can chat with fellow moms and enjoy watching them play in the pool.  Sweet.

I wish there were a way, without costing anyone anything (always have to add that just in case someone tries to come up with a way), at least one parent could stay home all Summer with their kids.  I mean, only if they wanted to, of course!  I know a few parents who like daycare just fine!  But for those who would like to be home, I wish it were possible.  Back in my working days, when Gene and I were planning a family, the thought of not working never entered my mind.  I just figured I'd find a home daycare provider and that would be that.  And had I not been lucky enough to stay home as I have since before Leo was born, that's exactly what I would have done; like it or not.  

And I feel I am lucky too.  I watched a talk show years ago where stay-at-home moms and working moms were debating (or screaming at one another) over who worked harder and who had the shorter end of the stick.  I honestly can't remember which role I had at the time but I remember thinking number one, how ridiculous they sounded shouting at one another but more importantly that neither one really understood what the other was trying to say.  I get it; you spend a lot of time and hard work getting an education, breaking into and cultivating a career that to give it up, even for a few years, can't be part of the plan.  It doesn't mean you love your children less.  I get too, that once you had that child in your arms, you realized there was no way anyone was going to raise that child or see his first steps or hear his first words before you.  It doesn't mean you've lost your desire to be successful at your chosen career or that you're using motherhood as an excuse to stop working.  I think if a woman could leave her career for a long period of time to find it waiting there when she returned, lots more mothers would absolutely stay home with their family.  My sister-in-law, a lawyer, was lucky enough (and good enough a lawyer) to take off almost a whole year when her daughter was born.  Then, to further their good fortune, my brother was willing and able to reverse the traditional role of care-giver and become a stay-at-home dad.  I know that both my niece and her parents are eternally grateful for their time spent together.

But that doesn't happen very often at all.  So I am going to take whatever time Good Fortune allows me and spend it as a Domestic Goddess fretting over dinner menus and laundry piles; paying bills and nursing boo-boos and hurt feelings and enjoy every second!

.....'til mid August anyway!

Happy Summer everyone!!

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Once Again Gracing Our Stage, I Give You Father Freakin' Time!

Leo's class had to do a timeline of their lives to date last month and it was something he took very seriously because, well, you know, he's been around forever and has done a LOT of stuff!  It meant a lot to him that each event he deemed important enough to be included in the timeline have an accompanying photograph; that was where I came in.  So all that last week, while he was taking it easy in school, I was pouring over almost eight years of Leo...and I loved every second!  The only bad was once again being slapped in the face with the reality that is my baby's gone from a chubby-faced baldy to a tall drink of water with LOTS of hair and deep thoughts.

That's the funny thing about the passage of time, I think...well, not funny "ha ha".  No, far from that kind of funny!  Funny that you don't feel it moving until you're reminded.  Like when you've been on a boat for a long afternoon and when you get off onto the secure, solid dock, you get all wobbly until you find your balance.  "Oh, that's right, I've been walking on water all afternoon!"  When Cathy was born, 15 months after Leo arrived, Leo was still my little baby whose peach fuzz-covered head I'd nuzzle while he sat in my huge lap reading books with me (at that point I was doing most of the reading).  But the second I saw him in the hospital being carried into the room in his Aunt Amy's arms, he looked huge!!  He looked like a little boy, not like the baby I'd seen the day before at home playing with his Thomas Trains and watching Baby Mozart!!  The baby was gone...poof...just like that!!  I'm sure the hormones didn't help, but I started to cry at the sight of him (don't worry, I sucked it up before I freaked him out).  That was my first real slap in the face from Father Time and it hurt...bad! 

After trying and trying and praying and praying and thermometers and chemical drugs and holistic drugs and disappointment after disappointment finally leading to surrendering defeat, I was viewed worthy enough to be his mother.  He was known as the Miracle Baby...that is until my oven started cooking another bun only five months later.  Then he became known as the Pipe Cleaner!  Whatever his aliases, to me he's the one that started it all; the one who after over 12 years of  DINKhood, turned a couple into a family, the one who made all my dreams come true.

He'll be eight years old this month; my Spring Equinox baby.  I get statements from him like, "Look, those two pillars are congruent" to "Moby Dick ate people...I learned that from a video game" alluding that if he learned it from a video game then it MUST be true, no questions asked!  If it weren't for the latter comments revealing his sweet naivety, I'd be sure the next thing out of his mouth would be "can I borrow the car so I'm not late for Physics class?"  He goes from snuggling with me and whispering "my mommy" under his breath to matter-of-fact  statements like "yes, yes, I think that's a Cumulus Nimbus cloud so we should be safe from rain today".  This is the age when I'm either begging for more time to keep him young or screaming for him to be a responsible big boy; it's no wonder the poor kid's not walking around in a confused, mother-induced stupor half the time.

Well, actually he is walking around in a stupor half the time but I'm not falling on that sword!

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop