Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Cheers to the moms

After producing our string of highly articulate, fairly creative spawn, there has seemed to be one thing missing in my kiddo's gene pool and I think this time, this is one I cannot blame on Jeff.  Turns out, we make fairly unathletic children.

 It's not from a lack of ample opportunity to develop those talents.  There have been baseball, soccer, hockey, lacrosse, track and cross country attempts.  There have been swim lessons. We have cheered a lot of sports teams on.

There was even a kids' triathlon at one point, although I do believe we spent a considerable amount of time worrying about Josh drowning.

 In case they read this, I should point out that there have been redeeming moments-- goals scored in hockey and lacrosse, fast-ish times for cross country (and one time where Josh spewed chocolate milk everywhere for the entirety of his cross country race because, "you told me to hydrate Dad, I drank chocolate milk!")

Maddie played a season of intramural softball for the HP team, which she pointed out to me stood for Honors Program and not the Harry Potter team (the fact I thought it  might be the Harry Potter team says something about my athletic ability,) the fact that they let her play on the HP team says something about the athletic talent level of Murray State's Honors Program.

I will say there has been one consistent thing about my kids' athletic careers and it is this--they have spent more than their share of time on the bench.

So tonight, as I watched Max hanging out in his customary spot, the bench, for his baseball game, I decided it is time that we bench warmer mamas unite.  So really bench warm moms--this blog's for you.  I raise a glass to you.

Cheers to the mamas of the boys and girls who ride the bench.  Cheers to those of you who hear "Bless his heart" at a game and inevitably know they are talking about your kid.

Glasses up to the moms who watch your kiddo as they run from their other spot, right field, back to their normal spot, the bench.

Hooray for the moms whose kids cheer the loudest and live for the hands in the middle all in at the beginning of the game.

A special cheer to the coaches who make up a creative reason to give your kid the game ball..."most enthusiastic cheerer of the game," or "good eye!" which actually means your kid got lucky enough to get on base because they had a pitcher who could not get the ball across the plate.  Walks are your kid's friend.

Cheers to the kid whose uniform is not actually the cleanest because while they were bored in the dugout they scooted their feet back and forth to make a little dirt storm.

Props to the mamas who have had to watch their child cry....again, for striking out and for then being the mama saying "no worries, shake it off!  It was a good swing!"  When in reality, it was a really crappy swing.

Cheers to the mamas of the dandelion pickers and the outfield twirly spinners who, when asked "Where's the Play?"  Yell, "Go Astros!!!"

Here's to the mamas of the easy outs and the "here he comes, move in field!"

and here's a cheer for the mamas of the kids who worry more about the end of game snack than the next base hit.

Bench warmer moms, unite!  Because you know what is really good for a kid?  To do something they are super crappy at--to learn they don't have to be the best to have fun, to learn that being the most enthusiastic cheerer really is an important role on a team, to learn the empathy that not being awesome quickly can teach and to learn how to strike out again (and again) and still want to come back and play some more because sometimes the snack at the end of the game is the best part of the day.

By the way, what is the snack?   

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