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Max played in a game vs. the Bombers tonight
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There is this awesome mother of six young children I see at my son’s baseball games. Twice a week, she strolls onto the scene with close to the same supplies she might need to keep her kiddos happy on a three day camping trip: tarp for the ground, blankets, changes of clothes, snacks, shade umbrella, diapers, bottles, hand held toys and games.
Whenever I see her, I feel a titch guilty. Though I never did it with as much grace, I have totally been there–just not anymore. For me, going to the baseball game means calling out, “Let’s go!” and getting into the car. And that’s it. If I remember to bring a water bottle, it is usually for me.
Kids grow. And one day without car seats, strollers, diaper bags, blankets, or shopping cart covers, you can just get in the car and go places. They even buckle themselves.
This is not to say things are easy–just different. When one phase of motherhood ends, another opens. I may look like a woman of leisure sitting alone with my small purse at the baseball field, but let’s be clear: I am far from done.
Take today. My boys needed to be spread from a baseball game to a counseling appointment to scouts to baseball practice at the same time. Seriously? How is that done? We still eat together
often occasionally, but today I set turkey sandwiches and carrots on the counter with a note. Ultimately, it was the only way to get the boys fed.
When we all arrived home, there was a brief battle over who had dibs on the computer and whose turn it was to bring in the garbage cans. Between helping Markus with his homework that is due tomorrow, I helped Max (albeit not very well) with his seventh grade algebra homework. Meanwhile, my sixteen year old was busy double checking his history assignment and updating his Facebook status (I keep an eye on this.) Most all of this action occurred while my nine-year-old sliced an apple with a corer and made himself a very large bowl of cottage cheese.
When it should have been time for pajamas, it was too noisy to say so. They were all too busy telling me about spring pictures on Friday and do you know where I left my mitt and can you please buy a bottle for my wave bottle project and you won’t believe the text Rachel sent me tonight . . .
There are no pacifiers or diapers. No one needs to be rocked to sleep. But closing up shop at the end of the day is tough. And when I finally close my own eyes, there is plenty to worry about. How much is too much? Amidst school and lessons and schedules are they learning work? Is he going to be ready for the tournament? Is he texting too much? Are they growing up kind? Will he have someone to eat lunch with tomorrow? Is he going to be ready to graduate from high school next year? Did I say what they needed to hear tonight?
I read a sweet blog this week from a friend crying about her twins starting kindergarten. She felt that their childhood was over and wondered if she had done enough or wasted any of the precious time.
I say take heart. Even if your baby did start school this year, it is far from over. What feels like an ending is the beginning of a new phase of parenthood. A new way for them to need you. Truly, much of the most challenging work is still ahead. And while that sounds daunting, it is also good news. This gig goes on for a long time. Even when they buckle themselves, update their own Facebook status, and slice their own apples–they still need us.
As this new season begins, I might be light on gear, but don’t let my tiny purse at the baseball game deceive you. I am still very much in the game.
And as hard as it is, glad of it.
