Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Batter up!

After a whole slew of rain outs, Aidan and Brennan finally christened their new life as little leaguers with their first games.

They were so proud to break out their crisp new uniforms and don their spankin' new baseball caps. And they were too cute for words.

Brennan's game went off without a hitch. Apparently, in tee ball, there are no outs - just a whole lot of patient batting, patient fielding and very, very patient coaches. Brennan did his thing, hitting, fielding and third base-ing with joy. He loved it. I loved cheering my heart out for him. (I hereby lay claim to being THAT mother. THAT crazy mother who screams her fool head off when her kid manages just to run to first base. Hey - it's exciting!)

Aidan's game was a little more competitive. Well, sort of. They keep track of outs and runs and it is more of a "game" of baseball. But it appears Aidan's team is more of the Bad News Bear variety, while the opposing team was stocked full of ringers. (Seriously. These kids were like twice the size of our team. And they hit it out of the park! I think we need to request copies of their birth certificates.) Aidan's team stayed strong though. (And there was a whole lot of giggling from the parents in the stands. It never gets old to see the ball slide through one, two, three, four hands of our sweet little leaguers.

Aidan's first time up at bat, he made a nice hit, but unfortunately it was pretty close to first base. He ran his little heart out, but missed it by just a second. His heart broke and I could tell he was close to crying. Later he told me, he was "just disappointed." Oh my sweet boy.

The second time at bat, he got onto first and slowly rounded the bases as the other hitters came up to bat. He ended up with his first run of the season. And yes, as THAT mother, I cheered my fool head off at his accomplishment. (Even though this was all of run 3 or 4 for Aidan's team, while the other team was on, like, run 100 or something.)

The game ended with a splash. And when I say splash, I mean it literally. Just a lesson for all of you out there. When your three year old tells you he has to go to the bathroom, but then shakes his head, smiles, and assures you he can hold it, he doesn't really mean it. Nope. He doesn't. Because two minutes later, he will appear in front of a bleacher full of parents with soaking wet pants, a pungent urine smell and yell, "But I told YOU I had to go to the bathroom."

And to finish you off, your husband will smile, turn to you and say, "I guess we should have paid a little more attention to him."

I think we are going to make lots and lots of new friends from little league. I can tell.