As much as I complain about the schleps to and from practice. As much as I gripe while stain sticking the dirty knees and boots out of the baseball pants. As much as it drives me crazy finding heart-played-out holes in brand new uniforms. As much as I roll my eyes at the play by play I must endure for the entirety of the day after a game. And all those in between the next. As much as I like to pretend it's a sacrifice and I'd rather be knitting.
The truth is...
I love being a Baseball mommy. I love being Toby's mommy.
And besides I can't knit anyway.
Opening Day was celebrated last weekend in weather more fit for Eskimos than Little Leaguers. Followed up by two games this week in equally freezing weather. Toby's five for five at the plate, made some great fielding moves, pitched his little heart out and is credited for the save (a very big deal when you're 10) in the most recent game. He was brought on the mound with no outs and the bases loaded. A fact which both dad and son make sure to point out when rehashing. And Grams (my mom) is working out a schedule to watch The Littles so the hubs and I can cuddle up on the bleachers together. Is it silly that my favorite date nights are spent at the diamond. Snuggled up with my best friend. Watching our first born having the time of his life.