We've Got Some Ballplayers Here

Last night I watched my beautiful daughter slide into muddy bases like she had been playing for the Yankees (Yeah, I 'm not sorry Phillies fans, this my blog and I am from Yankee Land, I get to say what I want here). It was pouring on and off during the whole softball game, but she was doing a little dance on the bases and playing her heart out. This is the girl who wouldn't leave the house last year unless her hair was straightened and her lip gloss was on. Two days ago my son was doing the same thing, in the midst of yet another downpour. It may be flooding on the ball-fields, but that is nothing compared the the flooding of my eyes as I watch them gain confidence and a sense of empowerment. In previous years they were cute in their uniforms, now they are impressive. They wear them to school on game days and stride through the hallways with their teams like young gods. I never played organized sports when I was a kid, and never felt that team spirit as I was growing up. It is so gratifying how different their childhoods are from mine. By the time I rowed crew in college I recognized that I did want to belong to something bigger than myself. I am so happy that my kids get to experience this joy. It makes washing out the muddy uniforms four times a week, vacuuming the ten pounds of sand out of the van, and scraping off the muddy cleats a bit easier to handle.