Spring is Here (Nearly)

...which means BASEBALL (and flu season, which we are repelling with all measures homeopathic and otherwise).  But, mostly, it means BASEBALL!  Matt is coaching Joshua's tee ball team, the Padres.  They're a motley crew of adorable four-to-six year olds.  Such an age range could be comparable to the difference between a newly-walking toddler and an almost-running toddler.  One can arguably walk, but not without a good deal of hand-holding and crashing, while the other is not only walking, but learning to scale furniture and chase his brothers across the lawn.  It is fun to watch the progression of these tee ball newbies over the course of the season.  They learn so much, especially under the tutelage of an organized and encouraging coach like Matt.  *Gush*

James is on his first "sevens" team, the middle-ground between "Everybody's a winner!" and, "This is a matter of life and death."  The coaches are definitely more serious, which can be a defeating combination with a bunch of still-squirrley-and-terribly-silly seven year olds.  *Smile*  I tried to fight the system when, to my horror, I discovered practice would not only be once a week, but twice, and from 6-7:30 a pop!  And did I mention that most of the team meets on Saturday mornings for hitting practice?  These are first-graders, most of whom have to be up and out the door for school by 6:45 in the a.m., not to mention have their hours of homework complete!  Youth sports (and public ed.--a rant for another day) have gone off the deep end with our generation.  Ten year olds are on travel teams with consecutive weekend tournaments, and most of our teammates are on other athletic teams to boot!  I ride the fence between calling is quits entirely and trying to promote an important degree of normalcy in their already-atypical schooling lives.  But, let me tell you--Matt, in his experience as an athletic director, can point you to case after case of high school athletic burnout. Too many kids have been pushed too hard from so young; they're ready to hang up their cleats by the time they hit high school.  We are glad for the perspective, but sad for the epidemic.  

All my griping aside, the boys love it.  They adore being a part of a team, and relish flexing their little boy muscles.  Joshua comes home talking about his friends, and James comes home talking about the game.  I love their unique sporting personalities, and I endeavor to become a more dutiful and doting team mom.  But I draw the line at after-game Twinkies...  I'm still trying to channel the days of orange slices and water.  I guess I'm a hopeless case in some regards.

Newbie Joshy

Trying to Wrangle A Hat, Glove, Batting Helmet AND Cap!
(3 items too many, for the record)

Best T-Ball Coach EVER!
(not that I'm biased or anything)

Hitting Practice

Working on Stance
(Learning how to stand is a HUGE part of the early stages)

Padre Josh
(they were all pretty excited to get their uniforms tonight)

Spectator Sam Extraordinaire
(He Razr scooters up and down the sidewalk during practice.)

Tiger Jamo
(He looks so big to me here.  He's growing like a weed.)

One Lucky Daniel
(Scenes like this take no prompting from me...they love to compete for his attention, to Daniel's delight)

He is SO Sweet
(At this stage, I always reflect upon how I cannot imagine them entering their terrible twos, even though I know he is not exempt from such necessary and rebellious rites of childhood.)

Sweet Dreams,

The Haven6