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Forever a Fan

15 Jul

Many of us have something we cherish from childhood. Whether it is a memory with a loved one we hold onto, a favorite stuffed animal or book, or a movie or song that takes us back. But what happens when you grow to dislike the thing you treasured so much? It happened to Andrew, with his love of baseball.

He tells stories about being little and watching Cal Ripen, Jr., his ultimate favorite player. He talks about how he detests the Braves because they beat the Pirates out of going to the World Series in 1992. He collected baseball cards, player figurines and helmets from games. He almost caught a foul ball from a regular season Pirates game but a man stole it from his 10-year-old hands.

It’s hard to believe that all that love for something could fade but a baseball strike and the steroid scandal that plagued the sport for years really wore on his respect for the game. The atmosphere changed. The integrity. The desire to play because you love the game. Not because you want to make more money or break records.

Andrew may have continued to feel that way if it wasn’t for his little boy. Nate has a pure, untarnished love for baseball. The sport brings him shear happiness without any of the politics and controversies to cloud it. He asks his daddy questions about the game, teams and players. He asks his daddy who to root for and who to boo. He asks his daddy to play. His spirit is contagious and Andrew loves watching the sport through his son’s eyes. It’s helped him find the fan he used to be.

I love being a spectator to their baseball bond and am so excited to share in their love of the sport.  (And spoil them with gear proudly displaying their favorite team.)

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A Love All His Own

11 Jul

It’s hard not to pass on your love of something to your children. The same applies for your dislike of something. For example, I loved Disney movies growing up and I still do. I’m sure it played a part of Nia’s love for them. I am not a fan of the Bratz dolls. That’s probably why Nia only has two of them compared to her entire toy store aisle amount of Barbies. Andrew and I enjoyed collecting the Thomas trains for Nate. It was inevitable that it would lead to Nate’s love for the cheeky engine. There’s pretty much only one love that we didn’t pass down to our kids, Nate’s passion for baseball.

His Favorite

The little man loves this sport and it’s all his own doing. He watches it on tv. He acts like he’s pitching, catching and hitting without a ball. He wants to play all the time. He actually intensely watches the players when we take him to a game. He proudly states that he’s going to play for the Gwinnett Braves when he grows up. (He doesn’t quite understand yet that he may want to shoot for the Major League team but that’s ok.) He mimics the real players in his stances, head tilts, wind up and hat adjustment.

The only part of Nate’s passion that Andrew did influence is his love/hate for certain teams. Because Andrew’s favorite team is the Orioles, Nate loves the Orioles. Because Andrew detests the Yankees, Nate boos the Yankees. Hey, why not? The boy needs some guidance.

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Bye-bye Bean

10 Jul

Nia is now a plane – on her way to be spoiled until she may break. In fact, I’m a little worried we may never undo the amount of spoiling she’s going to be blanketed in when she returns from West Virginia. I love it.

She is so excited to spend the next 11-12 days with her grandparents and family and friends. We will miss her beyond words and will spend the time without her preparing to spoil her with hugs and kisses when she returns.

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Little Gamers

5 Jul

I’m afraid we’ve created a video game monster.

Sure, I’ve played my fair share of video games and I still enjoy a good Wii game or old school board or two of Super Mario Bros. but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t four years old when it all started for me.

With Nia, we waited until she was six to have video games. She got a Nintendo DS with a few games that leaned more toward educational than toward gold coins and flying fire balls. I wanted to do the same for Nate.  Wait until he’s six.  What I didn’t consider is that he has the older sibling who has the games and then he also found my Nintendo Advance from back in the day (um, ok maybe I was in my 20’s).

Now, he wants to play the Advance, her DS or the Wii every non-baseball playing chance he gets. I’ve set limits on the amount he can play each day but I still worry. I even give him little hope-you’re-not-a-video-game-zombie tests. I hold up my hands to him, “Nate, how many I’m I holding up.” “Five,” he says without counting. “Nate, how do you spell love?” “L-O-V-E,” he replies without hitting pause.

Just want to make sure those brain cells are still in top shape.

Wee Wii Players

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She Didn’t Know What Hit Her

25 Jun

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. She did know. He’s about 3 feet tall, weighing 35 or so pounds, blonde hair, blue eyes and wild with energy.

She definitely knew Nate clocked her in the kisser, what she didn’t know is that he knocked out her latest loose tooth.

Two Teefs, One Week

Before my mom picks up the phone to call me in horror (you still can mom, just finish reading first!) know that they were playing and no medical attention was needed. Sure, it was pretty rough playing and I’m not dismissing the seriousness of the punch. I just wanted to stress that the punch wasn’t thrown in anger. They were wrestling, giggling, all fun and games playing until someone gets a bloody mouth.

It wasn’t until I had Nate properly placed in time out while I tended to Nia that I realized there was a hole where a wobbly tooth once lived. Nia was calm through the check up but then I said, “He knocked out your tooth!” She then became hysterical that her precious pearly white was lost and feared that she wouldn’t get a tooth fairy visit. (She cried harder about that then the punch in the face.) The tiny tooth was recovered and all was well – well, except for the slugger in the corner.

He was punished (time out served, a intense talking-to and video game confiscated) but I believe the happiness Nia had about her missing tooth will be confusing for him. She practically thanked him. “The tooth fairy will come now!”

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Daddy Day

20 Jun

He could go golfing. He could watch ESPN all day. He could nap. He could do anything he wants on his day off but he chooses, he wants, to make it daddy day.

Andrew started a new schedule at work that allows him to work 80 hours in 9 days instead of 10 days. That means one day devoted to daddy and the kiddos.

He takes them to the pool.

After Swim Snack

He doesn’t send them away from the area if he has a home project to work on, like our new patio furniture.  He lets them help if they want and patiently answers all their questions about what he’s doing. (What’s this piece for? And this piece? And this piece? Why does that go there? …)

Relaxing After Hard Work

He catches the kids’ favorite tv shows with them – Phineas and Ferb, SpongeBob SquarePants and Kick Buttowksi.

TV Time (aka Tuckered Out Time)

He lets them mess up the house in all their fun and is so courteous to let me see that fun scattered on the floor and overflowing from their rooms when I come home from work. (Just kidding! It’s only a little bit a fun aftermath.)

Daddy day is really so much more than just the time mommy is at work though.

He has a special way of fixing small boo-boos when they happen. Me, I just kiss them to make them feel better. Him? Well, if they scrape their knee, he lifts their arm and checks under it. He looks in their ears. He tells them to do something silly that turns their tears into a fit of giggles.

He loves to cook for them any chance he gets. Daddy’s chicken. Daddy’s smiley face pancakes. Daddy’s waffles with peanut butter. Sometimes, they get sad if daddy isn’t the chef.

He always makes it a point to bring them souvenirs from his work trips. A giant pencil that had San Antonio facts written all over it was especially cherished.

He once ran the length of the house and jumped a flight of split level steps because he heard Nate yelling for help as his fingers slipped from a monkey bar. He made it there in time to catch the little man. Awesome.

He is so very appreciated. He is so very loved. Happy Father’s Day, Andrew. You are our favorite.

Happy for Daddy Day

With Love

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It Takes a Village and All That

17 Jun

Warning: This post is all about me venting. No sunshine or happiness here. Nope. Just complaining.

If you’re still reading, let me start my soapboxing by saying, I understand no one is perfect. We all make mistakes, have temporary lapses in judgment, forget things – sure, I know that  – from personal experience. What I’m having a hard time understanding is intentional situations involving parents not paying proper attention to their children in public. Not correcting their behavior when needed. Not making sure their little ones are safe.

One situation involved our family outing to a college baseball game. The game was great. It was the rowdy, unwatched crowd of young children that encircled our fam that raised my anxiety level.

They fought with each other. They hit us from time to time. They stared and even pushed on Nia and Nate as they enjoyed their dinner of stadium food. They ran into other members of the audience around us. They almost fell through the railing. They wandered away from their parents without being noticed for minutes. In fact, the 3-year-old stood next to me for so long, you might have thought he was my child. (If not for my look of concern aimed at the child’s parent who was sitting a section away from us.)

Another situation starred a child in the  middle of the street. The main street to our neighborhood. A busy street. There he was, sitting on a skateboard. He was one house away from that main entrance, where drivers come around the bend at a good clip. I stopped and then drove by the child with dramatic caution as he waited for me to pass. The mom? Oh, she was in the garage. The child immediately went right back to the danger zone after I passed. The mom? Well, she stayed in the garage. I was so tempted to turn around and ask her why she thinks that’s ok. Why is it ok to let your 4/5-year-old play in the middle of a busy street? The way the world works sometimes, it wouldn’t surprise me if that mom sues the driver who hits her child – and wins.

I guess my main thing with all this is, I don’t know what’s ok anymore. Is it ok for me to correct a stranger’s child? Should I confront parents I see doing something that could endanger their child? Is it my place? Also, when it comes down to it, I guess I’m pretty territorial to my own. I have two precious sweeties of my own, thanks. I’m really trying to make sure they grow up safely and responsibly.

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Dancing Bean

15 Jun

I have such fond memories of dancing when I was a little girl. I was a Steel City Strutter and loved marching in parades  and getting covered with blue eyeshadow and red lipstick for recitals. My mom tells stories of the time I yelled to our neighbor from the stage, “Hi, Jimmy!”

Nia the Tapper

I loved to dance but I was never the best. Just average. I had a lot of heart and really tried to remember all the steps and hit them on beat. Nia, though, is such a different dancer.

She took the stage for her first recital last weekend and she did so well! She got a little nervous during her first performance when the audience laughed at how cute she and her “fluffy powder puff” friends were but she didn’t give up. Under the bright lights, in front of all those people, she kept going. How did she not freeze up there? Where did she find that bravery? She went on to nail her other three performances and had such a great time.

I watched my little girl grow up a little more that day. She didn’t need mommy as much as the night went on. After each performance, I would rush backstage to help her change costumes but I would find her already getting ready without me. I’m so proud of her. Not only did she do such a wonderful job on stage, she acted like all the prep was no big deal. While I was a bag of nerves, she was cool and gave me the feeling of “I got this, Mom.”

Our little dancing Bean. You make my heart so happy. I can tell, dancing makes yours happy too.

I Feel Good – Tap Routine and Nia’s Favorite
Fluffy Powder Puff – Ballet Routine

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Livin’ for Friday – Already?

12 Mar

Working for the weekend, it’s such a common thing: Is it Friday yet? It’s almost Friday. Just two more days until Friday! Don’t worry about your bad day – it’s Friday! T.G.I.F.!

There’s really no harm in it. What’s so wrong with looking forward to the day before your days off? Can you remember when you first started cheering for it? It seems it starts younger than I thought/remember.

The kids are already being trained to have those same feelings. If Nate gets through the week with good behavior, he gets to bring something for show and tell on Friday. Friday is shop at the junk “store” day in Nia’s class. Friday is no homework day. Friday is stay up late(r) day.

I can’t really explain why (and it’s not a major deal) but it made me feel a little sad for them. I just want them to grow up looking forward to each new day. Not just the end of many days.

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Wanna Play Baseball?

7 Mar

It’s a question we’re asked over and over each day. Even after we just get finished playing catch or batting with Nate, he asks, “Momma/Daddy/Nia, wanna play baseball?”

The little man loves the game. Everything about it. He wants to bat. He wants to catch. He wants to throw. He wants to run the bases. He wants, of course, to hit a home run. Now, he’s closer to doing all of those things – on his pre-tee team.

Swing away!

The first practice was a little haphazard and dangerous – the kids kept rushing the ball when it was hit – almost ending in a pileup each time, one poor kid kept crying every time he didn’t get to the ball before the other kids and we all gasped when Nate threw the ball at the kid running the bases, hitting him in the helmet. (Luckily, the little runner didn’t even know it happened and when I apologized to his grandma she said, “That’s ok honey. That’s why we’re here. To learn.”)

Fielding

The next practice went a lot better. The coach put Nate in as the pitcher because, in pre-tee, after the batter hits, the ball gets thrown to the pitcher and then the runner has to stop. He chose Nate because he’s the only one who can catch/stop the grounders right now. (We’re so proud! It could be because he will sacrifice his body to stop the ball too – yeah.)

Daddy Coaching Son

Playing baseball is making Nate so happy. He lives to play. He wakes up and asks, “Do I play baseball today?” Before he falls asleep he asks, “Do I play baseball tomorrow?” When we tell him yes, he lets out a squeal and giggles. I hate it when we have to tell him no.

Little Ball Player

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