Play Ball!

It's that wonderful time of year when spring training begins and kids all over the country start signing up for little league. Last night, Caleb and I went to the local municipal building to sign him up for baseball. You can't imagine how excited this kid is! He was practically jumping up and down in his booster seat on the way there! I'm excited that he's finally going to have a good outlet for all of his energy, but there's a few things I'm honestly not too excited about.

I know that with my husbands work schedule he won't be able to make all the games. I know that for the most part, I'm going to have to cart Caleb to practice and games by myself. No, I'm sorry, not by myself. I'll have Aj to keep me company...Heaven help us. That's going to be the really interesting part: me keeping Aj occupied while simultaneously trying to watch Caleb play. Should be fun.

Here's what I'm really excited about: the look on Caleb's face when he gets his first hit in a game; his reaction the first time he catches the ball; practicing with him in the yard and watching him get better and better. I can't wait to watch him play and learn about being a good sport. I'm happy he has an opportunity to make new friends.

Overall, I think this is a wonderful experience for both of us, and I can't wait to let the good times roll!

Play ball!

The Art of Losing

It was a tough weekend for the Harbaugh brothers, which means it was a tough weekend at our house. You see, I am a Ravens fan, and my sister is a 49ers fan. I had the kids watching the Ravens game with me yesterday, and this is pretty much how it went...

Every time the Ravens scored, forced a fumble, got an interception, I would jump up and down and yell and clap. The kids did the same.

Every time the Patriots made a good play, or when they got an interception, or scored, I yelled something similar to "Oh, come on. Are you serious?" The kids did the same.

I swore once, luckily they didn't repeat me.

Well after we ended up losing, all I could do was sit in complete shock and in silence. After processing the loss of my team, I started thinking about how my children were learning how to be a sports fan through what I was doing. And the question came to mind, how would I want them to act in this situation? When they start playing soccer or baseball or whatever sport they choose, how are they going to act when they lose? How are they going to act when they win? The answer is however I do.

I want my children to be gracious losers. I want them to give the other team credit for what they did well. I want them to understand that sometimes, you can give it your all and do your best, and the other team beats you fair and square. Yelling doesn't take away your loss, so at least accept your loss with dignity and grace.

I also want them to be gracious winners. No gloating on the sidelines, no rubbing it in. Still give the other team credit for what they did right. Don't act like you had it in the proverbial bag all along. It's one thing to be competitive, it's another thing to be a jerk.

I hope that with time, my children will learn to be like this, even if I can't always show them by example. Heaven knows there are times I'm not very sportsman-like while I'm watching my team on TV. However, I would be more proud of my son if he accepted his loss graciously, than if he won and acted like a jerk.

Great games Patriots and Giants, but I still hope that somehow you both lose the Superbowl.

And The Whiner Is...

Between Sunday night football and Phillies post-season baseball, all I did last night was flip back and forth between two channels. In football, the team I love was playing a team I hate, and do I really have to explain why I was watching Phillies post-season? I mean, come on, it's the Phillies, and it's post-season baseball. Of course I'm watching.

But of course, in what I assume to be the real reason women traditionally weren't into sports, I was going to have to stay up beyond when I really needed to go to sleep. I prepared for the long haul, knowing I wasn't going to bed before midnight, and plopped myself down on the couch with a bottle of Mt. Dew. Game on. Back and forth between the channels, watching half an inning here and a possession there. Commercial? Back to the other channel. Both commercials? Potty break. I was doing well. I watched the Ravens game until they were up by 17 points in the fourth quarter with about four minutes to go and decided to watch the Phillies game from then on. It was easier to stay awake with the Phils on. Of course that could be because I was yelling at the umpire who couldn't call a consistent strike to save his life, but still. And right around midnight, both games were over. Raven win, Phils lose. Not what I was hoping for.

You want to know who the real loser is? Me. Because I ended up with just under six hours of sleep. Not bad you say? No it isn't. Not normally. The problem occurs when I get six hours of sleep. I'm the kind of person who needs sleep, lots and lots of sleep. I needed a cup of coffee to make a pot of coffee this morning. I think I dropped five things while making my kid's sandwich for school. Well obviously I'm not going to give up watching the sports I love, and I can't give up making Caleb's lunch on Monday mornings, so I suppose I'll just have to suffer until the end of the seasons. One thing I did learn last night? Caleb isn't going to school the Monday after the Superbowl.