by Lisa Hauf
Summertime brings warm weather, time with family and camping. All the things I love. For the last few summers, it has also brought baseball into my life. My oldest son has been involved in baseball since he was younger. His grandfather would take him to morning t-ball games. If you are a parent or grandparent who sat through t-ball, I guarantee you your patience was tested on an entirely different level.
This year, my son had two evening games a week. There were early games at 5:30 p.m. and late games at 7:30 p.m. The early games meant supper was often at the diamonds and the late games meant exhausted kids the next day, as we didn’t get home until late.
Baseball nights always involved fast meals - sandwiches or even a run through the fast food line. This was hard to adjust to at times. My favorite moments are at our dinner table, when all five of us are able to say a prayer together and eat together. But, with one child in sports and two younger ones tagging along, those nights didn’t happen too often. Acceptance of this takes a considerable weight off one’s shoulders.
My son finished off the season with a tournament. Four games in four days. During the last game, I heard one of the parents say her children have had oatmeal three of the last four nights for supper. I could relate on numerous levels and it honestly felt good to know we were all in the same boat.
My child’s last game was for third place. I was going to do whatever it took to keep my younger children occupied so I could watch some of the game. All parents with young children understand the struggle to watch your older child play. And let’s not lie, we have all told our child we saw them score when in reality we were busy chasing one of their siblings. I used food to keep my younger boys occupied for this game. A nearby fan expressed to me my children are really good eaters. I had to laugh because of course they were that night, since they had pizza, popcorn and cookies! They would eat great every night if that were their meal choice.
The night ended with a big win in overtime and the boys took third place out of 22 teams! I’m not sure if my son will play baseball next year. He has an itch for more aggressive sports and wants to try out lacrosse. I surely don’t put myself through these nights of chaos with expectations my son will make it to the major leagues. I do it because of the valuable lessons learned by every single person in my family. My oldest son learned about teamwork and winning and losing. He learned how to handle the pressure that comes with wanting to do your best. My youngest children learned how to cheer on their older brother. They also learned eating sunflower seed shells off the ground will end in a trip to the bathroom and getting their mouth rinsed out with water.
My husband learned how to get both young kids to bed when it was 9:30 p.m. and I was still at the game. For myself, I learned to let go of the small things and roll with it. I learned it’s okay to give your children oatmeal for supper three out of four nights. I learned four packs of fruit snacks will not hurt anyone if it means you can watch your son hit a double. This year, I learned some days we get the evening meal we want and other days we are content with concession food. Do what works for you and don’t sweat the small stuff.
In the end, it’s about the memories. It’s about the smiles. It’s about balancing what matters and what doesn’t.