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I am so exhausted.
It is 11:30 pm on Tuesday night, and we've all only been home for an hour. Marc had an 8pm baseball game and all of us were in attendence.
It isn't easy taking Charlotte to these games. This is the third game out of four that we've brought her with us. She tends to want to roam as far away from the ball field as possible. Mitch and I make a pretty good team, though. We'll switch off chasing her, we'll paper-scissors-rock for it, or the less tired one will go and follow her around. It works.
But tonight, for some reason, I was especially exhausted. We even brought our comfy fold-out chairs. But bouncing around between making sure Lotte doesn't fall off the rocks and making sure I didn't miss Marc at bat, I left the game with my feet aching, my shoulders burning, and hips hurting. And it doesn't help that Marc had four games in two weeks.
Marc did good, though. He's a good swinger, and he's got some great hustle! The game ended in a tie. Good for them! Go team!
After the game, I trudged slowly to the parking lot.
I'm so exhausted.
I thought about how glad I was that Marc was playing baseball, and hopefully it would help him gain confidence in himself and make some new friends.
I'm so exhausted.
And Mitch. What a great dad! We really make a great team, tag-teaming Charlotte like that. Charlotte sure was cute, digging in the dirt and climbing on rocks.
I'm so exhausted.
As I climbed into the passenger seat of the van, I couldn't think about anything anymore. I was too, you know, exhausted. I mean, I will go to every single school, musical, or sports function that either of my kids have. I love Marc, and I love his baseball games. But my shoulders hurt, my hips hurt, my everything hurt, and I was so very very tired. I just wanted to go home. Nobody talk to me, I thought. Don't touch me. Don't tell me what to put on the iPod. Quit talking so loud. Are we home yet?
Then, I snapped out of it. A song came up on my iPod. It was a song we all knew by heart. I felt a little kick on the back of my seat, so I turned around. The kicking was Charlotte dancing in her carseat. She was wiggling back and forth, her legs were shaking, and her arms were flapping.
Then I looked over at Marc. He was singing loud, and playing air guitar, and laughing! He changed the lyrics, of course. Instead of peaches coming in a can they were brains. You know. For zombies. Even Mitch was singing along!
That's what it took to snap me out of the bad mood my sore muscles put me in. I've got a great family, you know? No long day, tired soul, or hip pain could make my family any less great.
The rest of the drive home we sang the Peaches song (Do you know it? It's a good one!). We got home around 10:30 and threw Lotte directly in the bath and sent Marc to bed. Tomorrow, I'm gonna be sore from all the running around. But today, I'm grateful for baseball, dirt, carseat dancing, and Peaches!
It is those moments that keep us going. What a wonderful evening you had and I hope today that your muscles hurt a little less.Those were the days. Spending about 3 hours sometimes twice a week at the ball fields. Dale played from kindergarten until last year. He finally got tired of looking for a team once his grade school team split off. We did spend several years watching the same boys get better every year with the same parents in the stands. I was really disappointed when some of the parents decided to put thier kids on more competitive teams and split the boys up. I made all the games in the first years and most as he got older. Some I just couldn't do and as he got older he really didn't mind. I did finally purchase a chair that attached to the bleachers to make the sitting bareable. From watching other parents I know how it can be with a little one that won't sit still, and you have to chase them around the whole time. Tiring and trying to say the least. As she gets older it should be easier. I have seen many parents let the 4, 5 or 6 year olds just go play on the play ground, dirty as they get. That part should get easier so hang in there and enjoy it as long as Marc wants to play.
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