Spring brings busyness around here. Last year we were lucky, no one wanted to play baseball. That was a nice reprieve. But this morning everyone but Sean was up and adam.
Seth asked for an egg sandwich before track practice. Then he left.
Stan thought that sounded good, as did Luke, so I cooked three more (one for me) and they left for baseball practice.
Then Mom called and asked if I needed babysitting for Sean when we go to our art class. Since the doctor found something wrong with his heart, my parents have visited three times and called countless times. Sean will be going to a birthday party, though, this afternoon while we're away. But when we get back, Stan and I will be going to a dinner party, so she's going to babysit then. Seth will go out with friends and roam the world like teenage boys do.
Spring is always busy. Baseball takes so many more hours than soccer. Soccer practice is about an hour and the games are about an hour and a half. You can watch your watch and then go home! Baseball. Baseball goes on for as long as it takes. You have kids at bat forever. You have innings that may take you three trips to the snack bar just to survive them. And it's so stressful if your kid is pitching. I really think sometimes that they should medicate parents at the park gate. Baseball, Little League, parents...these things have for us been the source of much fun and more stress.
Oh and then there's the time we left Luke at the park. He was 7, I think. The park in town is a little over a mile away from our house, neighborhoods the whole way. So, Sean was around two, it was a hot hot day and he never did well in the heat, so about halfway through the game I took him home. Stan walked us to the car and said they'd be home soon. Evidently, after we pulled away, someone came to Stan with a problem. He was the Little League president at the time and he warped into president mode and forgot he was there for father mode initially. He ran out, got ice, or whatever it was, then Seth, who was there hanging with his friends, said they wanted a ride home and they left. Luke, who'd finished his game and was playing on the playground with friends, watched him leave thinking that I was still there.
So, Stan came home without Luke and I didn't ask why. My mind answered my unspoken question: he went to a friend's house afterwards. It happened sometimes. So Stan was doing some work around the house, I was doing whatever and Luke was at the park playing with friends. There were games all day, people everywhere. Then he started to wonder where we were and scoped the parking lot out and didn't find our vehicles. He tried to call us on the pay phone, but his quarter didn't work "so I bought a cowtail at the snack stand," he'd say later. After that he decided to leave. He gathered up his bat bag and stuff and began walking home. Meanwhile, sometime thereafter, Stan mentioned casually, "So, where's Luke?"
Ever get struck by lightning? Me neither, but once in a while parenthood gives you a close second. I can't remember quite what was said, only that Stan's truck was screeching out of the driveway in the direction of the ball park within milliseconds and I was jumping around the house like a lunatic pulling out my hair and making guttural groanings.
Stan picked Luke up about a half mile from the park, walking along. When he saw Stan's truck, he thought he was going to be in trouble. WHAT KIND OF PARENTS ARE WE ANYWAY - I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE!? I mean, you leave your kid at a park and then he's afraid he'll get in trouble for finding his way back home??? Luke was awarded one giant ice cream cone on the way home. And Stan has nearly recovered from his failing.
Anyway, I told you we were busy in spring. :)