Out To The Ball Game
I've been flying solo for several days- Behn went to Texas to see my brother Aaron graduate from basic training for the USAF. Although it would have been great to go, too, I'm so glad that he had this opportunity to get away for a bit and spend time with family and visit another state. I think he had fun and I can't wait to have him back. Single parenting ain't easy, folks.
Last weekend, though, we took the boys to our local minor league baseball game. It was a perfect evening and we had a lot of fun. My brother Stephen came, too, and we enjoyed his company. There were even fireworks! Even before we got there, Graham was itching for a new ball. The other times he's gone, he's lucked out and gotten balls from the players because we were sitting close enough to the dugout. This time I told him, unless he caught a fowl ball, it was unlikely he was going to get a ball. For one thing, we were sitting pretty far from the dugout, and for another, Graham does NOT need a new ball. He literally has dozens. It's honestly kind of an obsession, and we are working hard on helping him move away from hoarding balls all the time, as it can truly consume him. And the final reason is, we just don't want him to get what he wants all the time, even if it means crying all the way home. Mama wasn't going to buy a ball.
I reminded him over and over he probably wasn't getting a ball. I took him to the bathroom and when we came out the fireworks were going off so we stood up in the concession stands for a minute. As Graham was distracted by that, a man quietly came up to me and gave me a fowl ball he had caught earlier and said he wanted Graham to have it. He hadn't been sitting near us, so I don't think he had any idea that Graham was totally dying for a ball. It was really sweet of him, and I let him give it to G. Graham was thrilled of course and it's his new favorite.
Last summer I wrote about how It's Getting Easier. Of course, I also wrote about how great 3.5 year olds were, and that turned out to be a rotten lie (I kid, I kid). But I was saying last year that things seemed a little easier with the kids than the year before. The night at the ball game was really fun, and I think once again, things with the kids are getting a little easier. Last year when we took the boys to a game, we couldn't even sit together because one parents had to be chasing Patch the whole time. This time, thanks to the distraction of (overpriced) cotton candy and popcorn, we all enjoyed the game together for the most part. It's not that I think parenthood should be a piece of cake (this will never be the case), but I'm enjoying this current phase: 2.5 year old and a 4.5 year old. Now if we could just get them to stop wrestling and name-calling...
Last weekend, though, we took the boys to our local minor league baseball game. It was a perfect evening and we had a lot of fun. My brother Stephen came, too, and we enjoyed his company. There were even fireworks! Even before we got there, Graham was itching for a new ball. The other times he's gone, he's lucked out and gotten balls from the players because we were sitting close enough to the dugout. This time I told him, unless he caught a fowl ball, it was unlikely he was going to get a ball. For one thing, we were sitting pretty far from the dugout, and for another, Graham does NOT need a new ball. He literally has dozens. It's honestly kind of an obsession, and we are working hard on helping him move away from hoarding balls all the time, as it can truly consume him. And the final reason is, we just don't want him to get what he wants all the time, even if it means crying all the way home. Mama wasn't going to buy a ball.
I reminded him over and over he probably wasn't getting a ball. I took him to the bathroom and when we came out the fireworks were going off so we stood up in the concession stands for a minute. As Graham was distracted by that, a man quietly came up to me and gave me a fowl ball he had caught earlier and said he wanted Graham to have it. He hadn't been sitting near us, so I don't think he had any idea that Graham was totally dying for a ball. It was really sweet of him, and I let him give it to G. Graham was thrilled of course and it's his new favorite.
Last summer I wrote about how It's Getting Easier. Of course, I also wrote about how great 3.5 year olds were, and that turned out to be a rotten lie (I kid, I kid). But I was saying last year that things seemed a little easier with the kids than the year before. The night at the ball game was really fun, and I think once again, things with the kids are getting a little easier. Last year when we took the boys to a game, we couldn't even sit together because one parents had to be chasing Patch the whole time. This time, thanks to the distraction of (overpriced) cotton candy and popcorn, we all enjoyed the game together for the most part. It's not that I think parenthood should be a piece of cake (this will never be the case), but I'm enjoying this current phase: 2.5 year old and a 4.5 year old. Now if we could just get them to stop wrestling and name-calling...
Graham's face is the look of complete intensity watching for fowl balls:
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