Sitting on metal bleachers when it's 40 degrees with 20mph wind for an hour and a half seemed more like an endurance test than baseball practice. It was worth it though, in a mom sort of way, to see him stand up a little taller, walk a little prouder and nod to his coach with all the seriousness of a big leaguer. There are things a mom can't teach and for that reason, I'm thankful for baseball. I remind myself also that I'll be melting into those same bleachers come June.
The knitting came along, providing much needed therapy for shoulders and hands so tired and in knots from crocheting. A newborn sweater, the size of which takes my breath away and causes the baby memories to flood back in.
And in all the fun I was having, I missed a rare opportunity. Kevin called me four times to see if I'd eaten and if he could take me out on a date after practice. He gave up after the fourth time when an elderly man answered the phone.
"Where's your phone, babe?" he asked me when I came in.
"In my purse I'm pretty sure, why?"
"Because an old man answered when I called you. They cancelled bible study tonight and since my parents were lined up I thought I'd take you out. Seriously, where's your phone?"
"I left it in my purse in the car while I was watching practice."
"Doesn't do much good there, does it?"
"Oh I see...you called at 5:33, 5:37, 5:49 and 5:50. Maybe I have a stowaway in the car answering my calls."
We have this conversation often. Whenever I have my phone with me I get calls from telemarketers, which reinforces my belief that I only need it for emergencies. That's why it stays in the car for things like baseball practice. No emergency, no cell phone required. Anyway, I'd already eaten.