Baseball Weekend -- Yikes!

This weekend, Gregory had four baseball games.  Most, if not all, of the games were make-up games, because there was so much rain in the Spring.  The weather this weekend was in the high nineties, and in the sun it felt like way over 100!  It was a rough weekend for all of us, but the worst of it came in the final game on Sunday afternoon.

In the top of the last inning, the opposing team was winning by at least 10 runs.  Gregory batted and popped the ball up along the first base line.  He wasn't sure if he should run or not, so he hesitated and then ran.  The ball bounced near him, but he made it to first without being thrown out.  A few seconds later, commotion erupted on the opposing bench, and then before we knew it, the coaches had convinced the umpire (who was a teenager) that Gregory had been hit by the ball and was technically out.  Turns out that Gregory had gotten hit, but there was some question as to whether he was in or out of bounds at the time.  The ump called Gregory out, and he had to make that long, shameful walk from first back to his bench (after he'd been standing safely on first for at least a minute).  When he got to the bench, I happened to be standing there.  Gregory came to me and started crying.  He's generally a tough kid on the field, but this was the end of a long stretch of HOT games (all of which I think they lost), and he was feeling defeated by the entire experience, and was sure that he shouldn't have been called out.  One of his coaches came over and explained to him that he had indeed been hit, and that the out was fair.  The coach encouraged him to shake it off and let it go.  Gregory seemed to do just that.  He grabbed his glove and headed out to the mound to pitch (the inning ended while the coach and I were talking with him).

I, on the other hand, was not able to let it go.  Being true to my Zahniser nature (of being competitive and speaking our minds), I walked to the opposing "dugout" and said to the three coaches standing there, "Couldn't you guys just ease up a little? You're already beating us by 10 runs!"  The main coach responded to me by saying, "We're just trying to coach our kids."  I gave him a dismissive hand, and then turned and walked away.

I'm not sorry that I said something to them, in fact the only thing I'm sorry about is that I didn't say more. If you will indulge me, I'm going to tell you right now what I wish I would've said.  When the coach said, "We're just trying to coach out kids."  I wish I would've responded with,

"You're not coaching, you're trying to micromanage the entire game.  We have an ump, let him do his job.  It's not enough for you that you're beating us soundly, you also have to make sure that some of us are crying?  What kind of men are you?  I would much rather have my kid play on a team that loses more and is coached by three men of integrity, who are competitive, but are also fair, encouraging and compassionate, than to have him play on a team (although a winning one) that is coached by you three yahoos, who feel the need to not only coach, but also umpire the game, and teach your kids that winning at any cost is what matters!  You should be ashamed of yourselves!"  Then I would've turned to the opposing parents (all of whom were actually watching me), and said, "Is this what you want for your kids?"  My walk away would've been triumphant, and I would've basked in the glory of my cool-under-pressure handling of the situation.

Ok, I guess we all know that the truth is that it's probably better that I didn't say anything more than I did.  For one thing, Gregory was unaware that I had spoken at all, and if I'd continued it may have gotten ugly (who knows with those guys?), and that would've been hard to keep from everyone else.  Gregory would've been embarrassed. Secondly, I do feel slightly better just having written the above paragraph about what I wish I had said, and it's possible that I would've felt worse if I had indeed made a bigger scene.  I'm also not sure that my tirade would've taught our team any better of a lesson than the one being taught by the jerks coaching the other team.  So, all in all, now that I think about it.  I probably said just the right amount! I think I got my point across without bringing any embarrassment to myself or any member of my family! :)


I have a post script:  Remember when I said that Gregory seemed to let it go?  Well, Gary told me later that while Gregory was pitching the last inning, he had a scowl on his face that Gary had never seen before.  Gary said he seemed unfazed by the walks he gave up or the strike out and line drive he caught. He continued with the scowl.  Gary asked him about it later, and Gregory said that he was waiting for the kid who played first base to come to the plate.  (He apparently was the one who relayed the message from his coaches to the teenaged umpire that Gregory should be out.)  Gregory said that when he came up to bat, Gregory was planning to hit him with the ball!!  Fortunately, that boy did not bat again! Gary definitely told him that he could not take revenge in that way, and I would've told him that too.  BUT, there was a teensy weensy part of me that said (only to myself, of course), "That's my boy!"  Don't mess with a Zahniser/Pierson -- really don't do it! LOL

Mommy Rhapsody

Mommy Rhapsody from Church on the Move on Vimeo.

My Dear Sweet Middle Child

Yesterday afternoon I had a chance to spend three hours alone with Ruthie, my middle child.  It's a very rare occurrence, and I was so thankful for the chance.  She loves the pool more than anyone in the family, so I took her there.  We played and swam together, and then I sat and read while she went off the diving board over and over.

As the mom of three, I struggle so much with giving each child what he/she needs, individually, while providing what the whole family needs, collectively.  Of my three kids, Ruthie is the least demanding of my time and attention.  She's quiet by nature, and can easily entertain herself for hours.  She doesn't like being the center of attention, and she will often give in to her brother or her sister, in order to avoid conflict.  She's a "typical" middle child.

She is connected to me, though, in a way the other two are not.  When she was little, she was fiercely independent, but never wanted to leave my side.  That might sound paradoxical, but that's exactly how she was.  She chose being with me over almost anything else, but while with me, she often wanted to do things her own way and by herself.  She is now able to leave me without issue, but her loyalty to me is strong.  The thing that I need to remember with her is that she doesn't demand my time, but she needs to know that I'm willing to give it.  She seems content to live in the middle of Gregory, her energetic, out-spoken big brother, and Mary, her cute, entertaining little sister.  But it's days like yesterday when I know the time spent just with her goes a long way toward making her feel special and loved, and maybe makes life in the middle seem that much more ok.

Coffee Liqueur Ice Cream Pie

Last night we had some dear friends for dinner, and I decided to try this new recipe.  It was really delicious.  It was also very easy.  If you're looking for a great summer dessert, I think you should try this.  I called it, "Chocolate Martini in a Pie"!  I certainly love a good chocolate martini (in any form, apparently)!

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/guy-fieri/coffee-liqueur-ice-cream-pie-recipe/index.html

Oh, to spend time reading...

I love to read!  At any given time I have about 5 books, in my possession, on my reading wish list.  My problem (just like everyone else's, I suppose) is TIME!  I rarely take much time during the day for reading.  I usually read at night when I get in bed, but I'm often too tired to read for very long, and each book takes a long time.  This summer I decided that every time that I have my kids take "rest time" to read, that I will read also (for at least part of the time).  I think it's good for me to give myself that time during the day, and I think it's good for them to see me reading.  Right now I'm reading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert.  I decided I to read it now, because the movie is coming out this summer.  I'm enjoying it a lot more than I expected.  Please let me know if you've read it and tell me what you thought.  I'd also love to hear from you if you're reading something else.  If you like it, I'll add it to my wish list!

The Bad News Babes

I will not be writing about the Bad News Babes this week.  Yes, it was that bad.  All the things that cause me anxiety going into a game happened tonight.  I obviously survived, but don't want to bore you with the gory details! Maybe next week!

So what if dinner stunk?

I'll tell you so what! I spent two hours fixing it!  I started at 4:30, making homemade BBQ sauce, Neeley style! I made grilled bbq chicken, baked macaroni and cheese (with expensive smoked cheddar), and spinach salad. I did all this while Gary was at work and all three kids were hanging around. In hindsight I would've put on a two hour movie, but I didn't. I made them all play in the basement, and tried to ignore about 80% of the noises drifting up the stairs. Gary got home at his usual 6:30 time, and we were just about ready to sit down and eat. As I was serving the mac n cheese, I tasted it and realized that it tasted like onions, and onions only. I used too many. The onion taste was disappointing to me for two reasons: 1) I don't like onions, and 2) I couldn't even taste the yummy (expensive) smoked cheddar. That mac n cheese took a long time to make, and all I tasted was onion, a taste I don't even like.

Then, when we were all ready to eat, we cut into our chicken and realized it was not done. It was bone-in chicken breast (my favorite for grilling), but the breasts were thick, and I hadn't realized before I took them off the grill that they weren't done all the way through. I was upset, but Gary said it was no big deal and he put them in the microwave for a few minutes. I knew that the microwaving was necessary, but I just couldn't believe that I'd been working on this dinner for two hours. The chicken had a special Neeley rub on it, and then homemade bbq sauce while grilling. It took a long time to prepare and cook, and then there we were -- nuking it! This whole thing brought me to tears. Halfway through dinner I started crying. I know it was unnerving for my kids, but they were very kind and Gary was his usual supportive self, and I got over it.

Later while Gary was getting the kids to bed, and I was cleaning up, I started thinking about why this dinner experience made me cry. What was it, specifically? I'm not that great of a cook, so it's not altogether unusual for me to get to the table and be disappointed by the results. But this night I was devastated. I guess I'm just struggling with the fact that I don't have much in a day that I can point to and say, "I did that, and I did it well." I like doing things well, and there are many days when I feel like I have little to show for giving my very best. I guess as moms (and dads), we can't count our accomplishments in days or even weeks, but more in years. As we watch our kids grow and learn, as we see them become well-functioning members of society -- able to take care of themselves and care about others -- I guess we can say, "I did that (with a lot of help), and I did it well!"