I caught some type of Fall respiratory bug this weekend and my husband did a great job of trying to get me some rest. Sunday was one of those magical days when there was not a whole lot planned until later that day. My husband and son played ball outside. It was idyllic and priceless. Much like how my son snuggles his warm body against mine and snores, I'm trying to savor these moments as I am all to aware they do not last long... Just watching him play ball with his Dad, run to imaginary home plate and use his Dad's baseball mitt, time has fast-forwarded too much. I think we may be starting to hit the "sweet spot" the spot where my son's personality takes off and the cynicism of being a teenager is too far off to worry. The spot where parenthood is actually a lot of fun.
My husband had his last softball game of the season tonight. This means the last night, rushing around to try to coordinate his game, my work schedule and our son. It has not always been fun. When I'm not working, it means about 14-15 hours of single parenthood. That's sometimes trying too. In a grand finale of the season, the Mid-Atlantic got quite a bit of rain and it took me over two hours in tough driving conditions to get to the taco place I was supposed to have gotten to first, to pick up our food. My son and husband were almost done with dinner by the time I got there. I was rather exhausted from the driving, it's funny how that goes.
My son was happy and content and though my husband and I were both tired parents, kind of hoping that the rain would cancel his game (I had mixed feelings on this one; I was ready for softball season and the logistics of it to be done). My son was saying how he was going to go to Daddy's game. My husband tried to back him down, "Daddy's game might be cancelled because of the rain." My son was having none of it. He tried to convince his Daddy there was no rain. I scarfed my tacos down and we got into our respective cars and my husband said he would meet me at home. I told him, despite the miserable, cold and rainy weather, I had to take him to see at least a little of the game. He had heard us talking about it and it would be like taunting a dog with a bone, or our cat with a milkshake, just cruel if we talked about his Daddy's game and he didn't see at least a little of it.
On our way from the taco restaurant my son was trying to direct me to the field. I think he got the lights at 7-Eleven mixed up with the lights on the field. After an entertaining conversation on what direction is right and what direction is left, we got to the parking lot. I stopped the car. We were at the field. The prospect of getting out in the cold and dreary rain after being gone from the comforts of home for over 12 hours was not that appealing to me. I look over to check my messages, hoping one would be from my husband saying the game was cancelled. My son starts yelling "yay, yay." He then exclaims, "Let me out. I have to play ball with Daddy." His mix of joy at mommy coming through for him and the possibility of playing ball with Daddy were better than a Red Bull at getting my keister out of the car. I got him bundled up in a rain coat (of course I didn't have my own) and took him up to the pavilion by the field, so we could wait for the game to start with at least minimal shelter. He was ecstatic. I was happy that he was so motivated to see the game that he actually kept his hood on. Every time he tried to take it off, I told him we would go home and that was a consequence I was happy to make good on. We watched the first four batters of the game and as I worried about his little hands getting cold, he agreed, we could go home now. He was a happy little boy. The perfect end to his day. We got back into the car and headed home. Instead of falling asleep in the car, he was ready to play ball inside when we got home... I think we have another ballplayer in this house and I think I better get ready for many more Softball/Baseball seasons...