What a difference a year makes. Isaac played Little League for the first time last year. He loves baseball. He was thrilled to finally be on a team. We talked about teamwork and sportsmanship. Being a good loser and a gracious winner. He ha an absurd amount of practice at being a good loser. His team mascot should have been Charlie Brown because they lost all but one game of the season. The other game they tied. It was a hard season. But he was still excited about playing again this year.
As you know, he broke his thumb at the beginning of the year which took him out of the game a while. Saturday was his first game back, although the team had played several already and even won some of them...YAY!! He was the starting pitcher and did ok. At his age, the kids swap positions a lot. At the end of the game he was moved to first base. The bases were loaded, score was 4-5, our team leading, and the opponent had 2 outs. The next batter came up and cracked a line drive straight down the first base line. Isaac knocked the ball down, scooped it up and tagged the base to save the game. WOOHOO!!! Now winning is not everything but after the dismal season last year and his personal frustration at the beginning this year I'm really happy his team is doing better this year and he had a little moment of glory.
Calypso informed me late last week that some time during my heaviest drug haze she lost her clarinet and she had removed her name tag from it. She doesn't know exactly when or where. We just paid the thing off in December. I kept repeating the mantra 'the child is more important than the clarinet.' On the same day she gave me this news she also decried the injustice of being the only 7th grader in her class without her own cellphone. Hhhmm, real head scratcher there, eh? Last night she announced that perhaps the instrument was in her locker, 'It's a mess and lots of things get lost in there, Mom.' My dear, the thought of emptying said locker did not cross your mind before this, even though we specifically asked??
Sunday morning we went to church and, of her own initiative, Diana walked beside me like a Secret Service agent clearing a crowd. Fiercely guarding my left side, barking at me if I turned too quickly, and barking at anyone who approached me from the left she moved me through the crowded lobby. I had to stifle giggles at such an act of kindness expressed in such a ferocious manner. I truly feared for the well-being of anyone who may have accidentally bumped my arm.
So, how was your weekend?