Brothers in Baseball

My son is a sports nut.  As I write this, he’s literally watching college softball and watching the ESPN ticker announcing the results of each MLB game that pops up.  He’s been known to watch college cricket, simply because it’s on ESPN. 

He started Little League when he was 3.  We lived one town over and their Little League program had a t-ball age group for the 4 year olds called “Mites.”  And because Nate turned 4 before the end of April (barely), he was eligible.  He played two seasons while we lived there, and then we moved.  I was bummed that he was going to have to start over with kids he didn’t know, but he makes friends easily so we didn’t think he’d have much trouble.

Last year, he started in what’s called Single A “coach pitch” which is really coach loading the machine and hitting the button for the machine to pitch to the kids.  We didn’t know anyone around here on his team, but he quickly made friends with a little guy named Ryan.  Just as quickly, we made friends with Ryan’s parents and Julia and Ryan’s little sister Gracie would hang out during games.  Ryan and Nate are a grade apart (Ryan’s a second grader) but they’re pretty much inseparable at baseball. 

This year, Ryan and Nate requested that they be on the same team, and as luck would have it, last year’s coach got to keep about half of last year’s team together as many of us kept our kids in Single A for another year.  So you can imagine how thrilled Nate was when he and Ryan found themselves as “Ironbirds” again.

About a third of the way into the season, we’re discovering that Nate and Ryan not only are really good friends, but they work really well together on the ball field.  They have made some pretty great outs, whether they’re playing shortstop and second base, or in today’s case, third base and catcher.  They both have an instinct for the game – knowing where the ball should go even if they haven’t quite gotten the execution down.  I hope they will be able to stay on the same team as the years go on, because I’d hate to see what happens if they have to compete AGAINST each other rather than with each other. 

At last night’s game, Nate had a rough at-bat.  Our friend Paul said he thought maybe Nate’s bat was too heavy, so I went around to the dugout to see if he had a lighter one in his bag.  Ryan’s mom said Ryan’s bat was lighter, and Nate could try using it.  He got up to bat, and launched the first pitch he got clear into the outfield.  Now, Ryan isn’t a fan of the other kids using his bat, because kids tend not to take care of things that aren’t theirs as well as they should, but he had no problem with Nate using his bat.  And today, after Nate slid into home, Ryan came from the far end of the dugout to high “10” Nate on the field.  They never fail to be there for each other, whether it’s to cheer each other on or to give a pat on the back after a rough out.

I’m loving watching Nate grow as a baseball player, but I’m also loving watching him create what I hope will be lasting friendships bound by a love of the game.  It’s humbling to watch my child create relationships outside of our family, because I see them as reflections of the things we’ve hopefully instilled in him all this time. 

This morning, as we were talking about last night’s game, and Nate using Ryan’s bat again, Nate said, “Me and Ryan, we’re like brothers in baseball.”

Brothers in baseball.  I’m not sure there’s any cooler thing for a kid to be.

Almost 7

Dear Nate the Great,

You’re going to be 7. In exactly a week. I don’t understand how any of this happened. One second you were starting mini little league at 3 and now you’re taking batting lessons and reciting baseball stats.

You’re quite an amazing little boy, in my opinion. You’re so sweet and sensitive and such a kind-hearted boy. You are so smart, too smart, that we don’t know quite what to do with you. Your teacher is doing a great job trying to keep you engaged but you have me worried how we’re going to keep up with you here pretty soon. You’re doing multiplication and reading well beyond grade level, and you continually surprise me with your grasp of things that you really shouldn’t be yet.

You’re current obsession (other than sports of course) is Harry Potter. We are in the middle of the third book and almost every other comment you make is repeating something from one of the books and a lot of your “what if” scenarios are HP related, as in “What if I was a wizard?” It’s so much fun to have something that you and your sister are both excited about and I love reliving the books through your eyes.

You just finished your second season of basketball where you had an absolute blast. You struggled a little emotionally with the times when things didn’t go the way you wanted, but after a little mid-season pep talk between you and I, things got so much better. Now you’re in the first half of your 5th little league season (if you count the summer ball league you played) and it’s incredible how much your skills have improved. You’re hitting off the pitching machine fairly regularly, and you’ve made some great plays on defense. You still like to initiate the ESPN replay after every play you make, which probably will stop being funny at some point but right now it’s hysterical.

I’m so proud of you my little man. You’re growing into such a good kid. This year you had your first bout with teasing at school as well as a little girl asking for you to give her the answers on a math test. You handled both very well, and I probably was more upset by these episodes than you seemed to be. Your sister can be sort of relentless with you, and you’ve hit your limit with her more than once this year, but for the most part even she can’t force you not to be the sweet kid that you are. The other day we were sitting down to read another chapter of Harry Potter and while we were waiting for Sissy you said to me, “Mommy, everybody loves you. Even the dogs love you.” And my heart melted. This morning I wrapped my arms around you after I’d walked you to class and you looked up at me with your lips pursed for a kiss. I know you wanting me to kiss you in front of your classmates will abruptly end sooner than I’d like it to, so I just want you to know for the record that it makes me feel really good that you don’t care yet that mommy kisses you goodbye.

We got some really good news for you at your last parent-teacher conference. Your teacher has been selected to pilot a program called “looping” which means that you and all your classmates will be with her in the same room for 2nd grade next year. Since we love your teacher and you have a great set of classmates, this was in and of itself fantastic news. But given the intense amount of anxiety you experienced the last three weeks of summer last year worrying about who your teacher would be and who your classmates would be and where your class would be, this new plan means we won’t be worrying about ANY of that come the new school year.

It’s really difficult for me to explain how much I love you. Watching you play baseball or basketball, listening to you talk about Harry Potter or whatever else you’re reading, having “what if” conversations with you, listening to you sing at the top of your lungs to Justin Bieber or One Direction or Glee, everything you are and are becoming just makes me so happy to be your mommy.

It blows my mind that you’ve gone from this:

…to this:

Thank you for choosing us. I love you more and more every day, and I’m so excited to know what comes next for you. Never ever doubt that we love you more than words and that no matter what you do, who you love, or where you go, you will always be our baby boy.

Happy almost 7th.

*********************

Dear Jujubee,

One day I was holding a 5 ½ pound baby in my arms and the next you were yelling “watch me!” as you swung from the monkey bars on the playground. One day you were barely saying your ABC’s and the next you were reading Harry Potter aloud all by yourself.

You’re a pistol, little one. You’re going to be keeping us on our toes for many years to come. You push all the limits you can, and then you turn around and yell “Mama!” and jump up in my arms and snuggle me so hard I can barely breathe.

You played your first season of soccer this year – your first sport ever. And even though you could really care less about sports, you seemed to have a fantastic time. And near the end of the season you all of a sudden exploded with understanding of what was expected of you, and had an amazing last game. You can’t seem to really decide what sort of activities you want to be in, hemming and hawing at everything. You love to sing and act, but the thought of being on stage seems to make you freeze. I think we’re going to try gymnastics again, since you seem to love doing cartwheels and handstands all over the house.

You seem to love Harry Potter almost as much as your brother, although you are content to read other things like Judy Blume. You love to draw and color and just about everything “girly.” Your room in the new house is as pink as pink can be, and you asked for “fairies and unicorns” and got exactly what you asked for.

You’ve struggled a bit with figuring out this crazy world of girl friendships. You often come across as a stubborn, strong girl but dealing with other girls can be so hard. I was so proud of you when we sat down and talked to you about treating other girls with respect, even if you aren’t friends with them, and you really seemed to take it to heart. Navigating those waters is going to be hard for a long time, babygirl, and I hope you always know you can talk to us about it.

You’re so bright and vibrant and full of life. I have to admit I’m loving your current phase of being overly attached to me, because I know it won’t last long. This year you’ve lost a bunch of teeth, and even though I worry your faith in the magic things of childhood is waning, you’re on board for the tooth fairy.

Little J, I have a hard time explaining to you the hold you have on my heart. You can drive me insane and bring me great joy all in the matter of 15 seconds. One of my favorite things to do is surprise you by picking you up from school, and watching you come flying out of the classroom into my arms makes me so happy just to have the privilege of being your mom.

From this:

Though she be but little…

To This:

…she is fierce!

I love you, Julia. You’re my mini-me and best girl. I adore every fun and infuriating minute with you.

Happy soon-to-be 7th.