Playing Hardball

It's official. I now love baseball!

I have been watching baseball for y--e--a--r--s, learning the names of Giant's players, listening to strategy and technique, tuning into games on the tube, listening to pregame and postgame shows as Ralph Barbieri takes callers, hearing box scores and play off predictions, listening to possible trades and offseason baseball business for y--e--a--r--s. I am married to a baseball fanatic--that word may be a little harsh, lets see what it really means--a person filled with excessive and single-minded zeal, esp for an extreme religious or political cause ie zealot. . .--Nope, fanatic is the perfect word! To Richard, baseball is a religion. . I don't mind. It is something that he is passionate about and he loves to share it, hence why I have known so much about baseball and the Giants. I liked going to the games but I found myself watching people more than the actual game. But now. . . NOW. . . I love baseball. I love the tradition, the uniform, the players and the coaches and why you ask? What transformation has arisen that I now care so much about a sport that I have only tolerated in the past? Because my little guy is now playing. It's a whole new ball game.

When we play baseball, we play with a wiffle ball and bat, (don't laugh, it's not as easy as you might think when someone puts a nice curve on that plastic ball) so Will hasn't had much experience catching a hard ball with a mitt. At Will's second practice, I was sitting about 100yds away watching my kids play on the play ground as Will practiced with his team. Will is the youngest kid out there. His birthday falls just two days before the dead line, so he just barely made it. I know that he has a lot to learn, he doesn't seem to mind not being as good as the other kids when it comes to fielding etc. I am really proud that he is out there doing his best. As I watch, I notice that he starts to walk to his brother Mitch who is sitting close by. Mitch seems to console Will and then they both begin to walk toward me. Will's head is down. When he gets close I see the sad look on his face but no tears in his eyes. "What happened?"
He looks up and I see the abrasion on his chin where the ball bounced off. He points to his chin and describes how he got hit. "I don't like baseball!"

"Did you get hit?"

"Yeah! It hurts!"

"I know, it does hurt. Sometimes when we play we get hurt, but it will feel better soon."

"I don't want to play."

"Are you afraid"

"Yes,"

"You know what, your going to get better Will. Your going to get better at catching that ball and that won't happen again, and your chin will get better soon too." He sits on my lap and snuggles in to me. "But you know what? if you quit now, you will hurt inside, because you quit. Quitting makes you feel weak, and that doesn't go away. That pain stays with you. If you stay in there and face your fear you will feel strong. Do you want to feel strong?" He nods his head yes. "I knew it. Because you are strong. Okay then get back up and go practice with your team. " Will stood up and grabbed his mitt and ran out to join his team. Phew, You pray that your kids will make choices like that but ultimately it is their choice and their journey. I am so proud of him. I was that day and every day that he picked up that glove and tried to catch that ball.

For one complete week he caught the ball with Richard or I and would turn his head in fear, but he didn't stop trying. He kept it up. Just today we were playing catch and he cheerfully shouted, "Hey mom, see I didn't turn my head." Although those balls don't always land in the pocket, he is trying and improving each day.

When it comes to batting. Will is pretty confident. He could bat both right and left handed when he was three years old. So he gets up there and feels he can hit that ball, and he does. he has hit three out of the four times he has been up to bat. He doesn't worry about swinging too hard, he just makes contact and runs his little heart out to get to the base in time. He stands there waiting with his little fists clenched watching the pitcher and batter, concentrating on when to run. I love it: I love that each pitch means that there is something bound to happen that will affect the game. I am amazed at the pressure upon the batter to perform and the pitcher to throw strikes. I appreciate the smooth transition from fielding the ball to throwing someone out. I love the team play and the confidence team members have in one another.
I finally get it Richard!I now understand why you love the game so much!

Will's first at bat in an official game.
He waited through four balls
from the pitcher to have his coach
pitch to him. He hit the first pitch from
his coach.

















Will bolting from second to third.

















He gets there safely!


















Will waiting with clenched fists to run it in
all the way to home.

Hack-a-Shaq on The Hardwood, Dunkadelic Style!

My Will has always been a baller. He loves to throw, shoot, hit, bounce, roll, dribble, and kick balls of rubber. He has had tons of practice, in very casual games (if you can call our family games casual, that may be a little tame for the competition that goes on between the boys and the girls) of kick ball, basketball, baseball, handball, and soccer, but has never participated in any organized team sports, until this year.

Will always shows up ready to play and doesn't mind playing with the big boys. This year at school, Will took up handball. Lily informs me that he plays with the big kids and isn't scared to go and try his hardest. At the beginning of the year, Will had never played but he wanted to learn, so he would wait in line at the "Big Kid Court" for half his recess just so he could learn all about waterfalls, double bouncies, butt cracks and all those other wild rules that make up hand ball. Even though he would only spend a couple minutes, if that, on the court before he had to get back in line, he didn't quit. He kept on showing up and now is doing great.

He reminds me of his cousin Justin. Justin loved playing any game and he didn't mind who he was playing with. And when J, as I like to call him, came to play, he gave his all, he was known to slide into home on the pavement in Nana's culdesac, definately a gamer!

Will's first experience was basketball. He was lucky to get on Coach Ray's team. Coach Ray is one of those volunteers that make a community great: a strong leader who sacrifices his time and energy to build kids. He is Inspiring. Every day after practice he would gather the kids together in a circle and shout, "What's the number one RULE!" to which the kids would chant, "Have Fun!" And they all did. They had fun. He had them running all over that court teaching them to hustle and play hard as well as the fundamentals of the game. Coach Ray often demonstrated what it meant to try your hardest. Once when doing sprints Coach Ray stopped them and showed them what it meant to run hard, "You gotta run so hard that you don't think you can run any harder. You gotta give it your all." Will understood. As I drove him to the the following practice, Will said, "today I am going to run my hardest!" and after that was always one of the first runners at the finish line.

Will learned all the fundamentals, dribbling, shooting, defense, offense (which means fight through the crowd and take it to the hoop) as well as to cheer for his team and say,"Nice shot!" "Great pass," "Nice hustle!" giving team mates credit for their work. Good stuff!

Coach Ray knew he was teaching more than just basketball, but building character. I am grateful for volunteers like him that really make a difference.

Like Sister Like Brother.

Ems is a planner. She came out of the womb planning parties and activities, tea parties, craft projects, play dates, park days, princess balls, etc. She is all about the plan: brainstorming the plan, organizing the plan, implementing the plan, experiencing the plan. Her life is so dependant upon whether or not her plan is realized or foiled. It is either the best day, or the worst day. There is rarely an in between. I absolutely love that about her. Every day she asks me: "So what are we doing tomorrow mom?" to which I reply, most of the time, "We are doing homework and having dinner, relaxing and going to bed."

She is never impressed with my plan.

Don't get me wrong, I can plan. . .I just don't think that far ahead, generally, but Emma loves me despite my personal flaw. So Emma takes control of those things she can control. One such thing is what she is going to wear to school the next day. Since, first grade I believe, Emma has made the effort to choose her outfit and place it on her floor so she can roll out of bed and put it on in the morning. She got this from her father, like I said I don't think that far ahead.

Tonight she did the same thing she has been doing for two years already. No news to me. Every evening when I go in her room to tuck her in, she has her ensemble laid out flat on the floor, nice and even, like a little paper doll outfit,

Tomorrow's outfit

organized: top and bottom, belt and buckle, socks and shoes, jewelry too, until recently when she realized that Kiki Lila, our cat, was playing with it during the night and turning it into a big twisted mess.

What I didn't expect, was going into the boys room and seeing this:

These clothing choices aren't bad for yitta guys.

top and bottom, socks and shoes and even jewelry, spy the silver jeweled cross necklace that Will got out of a gumball machine in an Italian restaurant (I guess it is fitting that they would have crucifixes in their gumball machines.)And notice that it is perfectly paired with his Italian soccer t-shirt. (My friend Jeanne LaMonica would appreciate this) Notice Owen doesn't have jewelry, but he has his sword lined up so he is already to play the moment he wakes up and dresses himself.

Richard and I smiled.

Like Sister, Like Brothers.

I am Opposed to Cheap Plastic Toys

I know there are some major issues out there: unemployment, health care, the deficit, the market tanking, moral degradation, political corruption, terrorism, hedonism, the threat socialism poses to capitalism, lack of ethics in big business, I could go on and on. All of these issues deserve our attention, but I want to bring to the forefront an issue of considerable concern: the manufacturing and consumption of cheap plastic toys.

I feel an obligation to speak out against this senseless waste of money and energy. Aisles and aisles of cheap plastic toys, bins and baskets of cheap plastic toys. More and more cheap plastic toys. And when I go to the store what do my kids ask for? Cheap plastic toys. C'mon!

"Hey mom, mom, will you buy me a toy."

"No, you have enough toys!"

"Nooooooooo," Owen draws out his exclamation in a long high pitched moan, "I don't have any toys, I don't have anything to play with." he looks at me with sad eyes and a pitiful expression. Wow, this kid's good. Luckily, I have been around the block a few times and after my fifth child I am starting to recognize when I am being manipulated.

"Really, you don't have any toys?"

"Ummm hmmmmmm," Owen moans, "I have nothing."

" So what are all those colorful molded plastic objects all over my house? What are all those super heros with movable parts and muscles bulging, What are those boxes of blocks and bins of track and trains, what are all those grotesquely formed monster guys, what are those dinosaurs, farm animals, cowboys and Gi joes that I find under your bed and in the corners of your room. What are those lego bricks that I keep stepping on all over Heathdom. If those aren't toys, then I don't know why I keep picking them up and sorting them into their proper bins(a job that I despise by the way). What joy! What a discovery! If those aren't toys, then why on earth do we have them."

Great question!

Cheap plastic toys, I have decided, are a menace to society, upsetting the social dynamic of the family and the order of my home, reeking havoc on the environment, stunting the creativity of my children, and are down right driving me crazy.

So, I stand up and say No More Cheap Plastic Toys! C'mon, who is with me. Really, what do kids really need but a ball, a stick, some crayons and a box. I think that is all I had when growing up. My mom was really good at cleaning out our toy closet. That was her super human power: cleaner/organizer. She must have been super human, that is the only way I can explain the way she could enter my home and begin organizing and sanitizing and have it model perfect in one hour. Anyone who knows my mom can attest to this. My boys toy closet, on the other hand, looks similar to Sid's room on Toy Story, guys with swapped heads, pirates with broken limbs, cars without wheels, naked GI joes with beards drawn on their face. It is time I clean up. It's time to economize, to rid myself of the fat, the futile fluff that are cheap plastic toys.

Stick with the original is what I say. Every toy produced is a cheap reproduction of what a stick, ball or box could ever be on it's own.

Perhaps you think I am a making a mountain out of a mole hill. If you think so, you have never had to free said toys from their packaging. This alone would convince you of the logic of my argument. They are secured in there so tightly, mummified almost by countless twisty ties. For what purpose? I wonder if the Chinese government is trying to create new jobs by multiplying the number of necessary twisty ties by ten. You'd think the toys were dangerous to society and aren't supposed to be released to the child. I say your right. Keep them in the box. Send them back and get your child a stick, a ball or box. They will be entertained and you save your money.

That is unless your honey just had his kindergarten shots and needs to be appeased, in this case cheap plastic toys are perfectly appropriate to purchase.

Will S has turned 7

My boy,
my sweet William,
my little king,
my ham,
my tender heart,
my guy
is growing up. He just celebrated his 7th birthday and he is just the little man. William has always been playful and fun. He always has had a great smile and would often use it on me. I was like puddy in that boys hands. He would flash me that smile whenever I would discipline him and I had to turn away or I would start laughing or smile back. He tried it on his Kindergarten teacher too. I didn't work as well with her.

William is faithful. He loves to say the prayers and often asks for me to come in and have quite moments of prayer if he feels scared or sad. William is a great helper. He loves to work and help out with whatever needs to be done. He is very competitive and enjoys games, but doesn't like losing. Being a good sport is one attribute that we are working on. He plays an amazing game of memory. That boy can pull matches out of a hat.

Will loves the water. He has always been completely relaxed in the water--like he was meant to be there. His cousins were swimmers, maybe he is meant to be one too. He loves the beach and takes too many risks in the water. Although he is 7 now he wants to be one of the big boys braving the big waves.

Yes my boy is growing up. He is the big brother to Owen and they are best friends. They love to share everything and rarely fight. They wrestle, play war, pirates, cowboys, blocks, legos, basketball, soccer, and wrestle some more. Will wants Owen to do everything with him including going to the bathroom. . .I wonder when they will decide to give up that brotherly moment together.

Some of the hobbies that Will likes to participate in are fishing, playing lego video games, the drums on Rock Band, riding his bike, playing handball, and art. He loves to draw cartoons and can make very creative monsters and aliens. He is experiencing his first season in organized basketball and is learning a great deal thanks to a great coach and Wills attentive practicing. He will begin baseball in the spring. Go Will!

Will, I love you and am amazed at the way you have grown. I am proud of the friend you are, of the good boy you strive to be and your kind, kind heart. The "S" in Will S is in honor of his Auntie Sue Sue who shares the same birthday. Happy Birthday Susan.

Will 7 February 3, 2009

Will wanted Chuck E Cheese for his birthday dinner
(No, he hasn't grown out of that yet. But all the kids were so happy) William also got a call from his friend Dylan in Valencia. They have shared many birthdays together and it was very thoughtful of Dylan to call and say Happy Birthday!

Emma, Lily, Will, Owen

Will making a seven with his hands (his idea)

Will loves to play war with his dart guns

Every boy want a sword. This is a soft nerf sword

This is probably the third trouble game we have purchased for our family. But you gotta love the game. Although often someone ends up crying.

Of course Legos

Will wanted cookies and cream and chocolate icecream cake. Yummy

January 31st in So Ca!

Can you dig it?











'nuf said