twelve

Two weeks ago, this dapper fellow,

our beloved Firstborn,

celebrated his twelfth birthday.

Twelve seems a rather important year to me, a rather pivotal point in youth. I feel a weighty excitement for this boy as he faces the great adventure of adolescence and the journey toward adulthood. And along that bumpy, passionate, confusing, glorious path of discovery, I intend to enjoy every possible moment with this sweetness of a human that has been given to me.

::baseball::

The first in the short series of "Why I haven't been blogging."

While in some areas of the country, Little League season

is just getting underway, our's has just ended.

Two to three times a week for the past two plus months,

we headed over to our local ball field to enjoy

evenings of wholesome, old-fashioned fun.

It was a great season--though not our winningest.

Firstborn was excited to be on the pitcher's mound

during several games as he'd only pitched once before.

belated birthday post

My dear Firstborn turned eleven last Friday. Eleven. I can hardly bring myself to write it or believe it. I see him maturing in many ways: becoming braver, more mindful of ways he can help others, more interested in "adult" conversations, and yet, he is still a mischievous, fun-loving little boy. I am savoring the moment, holding on tight to what we have right now.

Here he is on his birthday:

Firstborn described it as his best birthday ever. His baseball team's huge victory which finally brought an end to a 4-game losing streak certainly helped brighten the day in a big way.

And for those who asked to see it, here is the ice cream cake I made at the Birthday Boy's request:

Simple and very delish. We paired white cake with Neapolitan ice cream, but the possibilities are endless. I think all of the crew put Ice Cream Layer Cake on their birthday request list now. By the way, sorry for the mediocre photo, I barely remembered to take a picture at all.

Play-off Update #2

Last night we played our second game of the tournament against the best team in my league. Everybody was sort of nervous because they had beaten us two times and we had only beaten them once.

At the end of the first inning, we were losing 4-1. In the first inning I was struck out and my teammates also were not hitting very well. But, in the second inning, we really came to life. I did not get to bat because there were three outs before I had a chance. The score at the end of the second inning was in our favor, 6-4. In the third inning, we were hitting really well. I hit a single and one of my teammates even hit a triple. The opponent ran one more player across the plate.

The final inning ended when I hit a single, resulting in an RBI and brought us to the five run limit for the inning. Because of time limitations, it was impossible for the opponent to win, so the game was called and we were the winners. Final score: 11-5.




If we win the next game, we will be the tournament champions!

~submitted by Firstborn

Play-off Update #1

The double-elimination tournament officially began today. Firstborn's team was up against a team that has been about their equal during regular season play. We played them thrice, with one loss, one win and one tie. Today was total victory. Final score was in our favor: 11-0. (Actually, I do feel bad for the other team, it is rather demoralizing to come away with out a single run. We are talking Little League here.) Firstborn made a strong showing with two hits and a run. In the field, he played third base and outed two runners. Great game, boys!

...it's one, two, three strikes your out!

This post is bursting with parental pride that might be interpreted as bragging. Proceed at your own risk.

On his birthday last Wednesday, Firstborn did something that required a lot of courage. Since the beginning of baseball season, he has been dreaming of pitching during one of his games. He has been practicing at home and observing the other pitchers closely. He has been waiting his turn. The only problem was that the coach didn't know Firstborn was dreaming, practicing or waiting to have a chance at that esteemed position. Nope, not a clue. There are three excellent pitchers on the team already and Firstborn has been holding opponents at third base quite successfully for weeks now.

After each game and practice I poked and prodded him to go let his wishes be known to Coach Kevin, but to no avail. "Next time, Mom." "Couldn't you ask him, Mom?" "He's busy now, maybe later." And yet behind this quaking voice was an imprisoned little pitcher waiting to burst for with a fastball. So, this past Wednesday I turned Firstborn's attention toward Coach Kevin who was sitting alone in the dugout with the requisite pen and clipboard. "Now, Firstborn! This is the time to talk to him." "Oh, I don't kno-o-o-w. He looks busy. Next time."

Nope, I decided it was now or never. The play-offs are almost upon us and there are only a couple of practices left. "Coach!" I called, "Firstborn would like a moment to speak with you, if your available!" And with that I gave the boy a little push towards the dugout and tried to distract myself with the girls. The exchange was brief. Firstborn returned and reported that Coach said he might get a chance when they play against the ----s. "There now, aren't you glad you asked?" "I guess so." Smile.

So today we were in the final inning of the game and completely whipping the opponent. Since there is a five run limit and we had about a ten point lead, our victory was assured. As the boys listened for the position assignments before heading out to take the field, I sat breathless with anticipation. Indeed, the coach agreed with my secret thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to put our boy on the mound and see what he could do.

What he could do? Well, I will spare you the play by play because all you really need to know is that HE STRUCK OUT THREE BATTERS!!! All THREE outs for the inning came FROM THE MOUND! And, I believe, only a single point was gained on his watch. Nerves and hope erupted into wild cheers and confidence. Another lesson in the rewards of courage.

Coach says he'll put Firstborn on the mound again next week; hope my fingernails can grow back by then.