Having a Ball

This past weekend, my husband took the kids to a minor league baseball game with a group from our church. Our little guy, James, hasn't shown a huge interest in sports but we've always encouraged him to give it a try. He played soccer for one year in school, but that was it. James is a tree-climbing, "bad-guy" chasing, pirate-imagining, bike-riding kind of boy. He definitely gets plenty of exercise and plays hard, but he's never gotten excited about organized sports.


But just a few days ago, he was playing baseball with some neighborhood kids. Even though they were a bit younger than him, they had more experience. Yet, they were so encouraging as they all played together and he was so excited.


So when the baseball game around Sunday, even before church, he packed up his little blue baseball glove and a ball cap. You see, HE was going to catch a baseball today. Never mind that he is still on the early side of learning to catch a ball gently thrown to him. Never mind the unlikely odds of a ball coming to him. Never mind the fact that he usually plays with his friends instead of watching a ball game.


When my husband and kids got home, my daughter, Bridgette, told me how she'd danced on top of the dugout with some friends. All the while, James was grinning clutching his ball glove to his chest, obviously hiding something. What was he hiding? An ice pack. What!? 


While my husband and daughter went to get a drink, James remained seated with some of our friends. Believe or not, the ball came right at him – he held his glove over my friend's head (such a gentleman!) and reached, reached, reached for a ball that landed with a big thud on his shoulder. By the time my husband got back, James was surrounded by people including a representative of the ball team who insisted that he be checked out (hence the ice pack).


So much for catching that elusive ball. Not exactly. Sitting several rows ahead of him was a young man who had just graduated from the same school James and Bridgette go to. Eli grabbed the errant ball and gave it to James. 


Wow! Not only did James now have a minor league baseball, but it was given to him by one of the "big kids" from his school. I can't say I'm surprised. Eli is part of a generous and loving family. In addition, the upper grade students at our Christian school do a wonderful job of caring for the little guys. No, I'm not surprised at all. That's just who Eli is. In spite of being on the verge of high school, he was looking out for a seven-year-old boy instead of himself.

James was so touched that he encased his special ball in an overturned plastic toy tub and taped it to his desk. He then asked me to take a picture of him so he could include it in his thank you note to Eli. There are some pretty awesome kids in our midst – and I'm blessed to know several of them.

Wanna be my friend?

James is so shy and nervous about going to summer camp. He cried again this morning and tearfully told us why it's such a "bad" place to go. (Full disclosure: It's a great day camp in a new air-conditioned building where they do fun activities with great leaders.) But for him, it's bad because none of his everyday friends are there.

But today, he ran to me with excitement when I picked him up. "Mom, guess what! There was a boy in line and I said, 'Do you want to be my friend?' And then he said, 'Yes, I like Batman LEGOs.' And now we're friends. Come meet him!"

As grown-ups, we sometimes end up in situations where we don't know anyone – when sending the kids to a new school, moving into a new neighborhood, getting transferred for work or attending a fundraiser. We awkwardly stand around and wait for someone to approach us, while everyone else seemingly has the gift of gab. So we think about our opening line: What do you think about this weather? Did you see the game last night? I love your dress.

Wouldn't it be easier if we could be as direct, simple and innocent as James was? Then we could just march up to another adult, stick out our hand and say, "You wanna be my friend?" After all, they may be thinking the exact same thing.

Popsicles and Play Dates

Yep, it's summer all right! This past week has been a blur of kids running in and out of the house. Trips to swimming lessons. Driving carloads of kids to and from VBS. Our supply of popsicles and ice cream is dwindling as fast as the messes are growing.


I remember when my husband and I built this house. It seemed too big for us 13 years ago when we first moved in. We had lots of empty rooms and a big unfinished basement. Now the only thing that's unfinished is my long list of household chores.


My husband and I are self-employed which provides us with some degree of flexibility. And an even larger responsibility to make things happen for ourselves and our staff. Summer is one of those times that the juggling act seems literal as we move through the days wiping faces, serving snacks and meeting the demands of clients.
Fortunately, we live in a friendly neighborhood with kids galore. One night last week was the epitome of summer – kids running up and down the street playing with all their friends, climbing trees and riding bikes, while the adults visited (occasionally casting a glance at the kids, doing a mental head count). The blissful days in which children run outside when the sun comes up and don't come in till the sun goes back down again. We've said good-bye to TV, video games and computers – and are stretching our legs and imaginations. Could it get any better than this?


"I wonder what it would be like to live in a world where it was always June." L. M. Montgomery

The Beginnings of This Blog

Yes, we've made it past the baby and toddler years where we spent our days protecting our children from choking hazards, falling down the steps and all the "little kid" risks.


But now we've moved on to those precarious years of grade school. How do we handle bullying, fear of new experiences and sassiness?


In The Return of Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock himself states, "Elementary, dear Watson, Elementary." I'm pretty sure he wasn't talking about elementary school, because that's far more complex than any mystery Holmes ever unraveled. Join us as we search for clues to elementary school kids – and the parents who travel this road with them.