Play Ball.

:: the Monkey's first t-ball game, Padres vs. the Yankees ::

There are many parts of parenting that I'm not crazy about, and sitting at T-ball practice is one of them.

It isn't just T-ball.  Football, soccer, basketball--you name it.  I hate sitting there.  Sure, I could see it as an hour to sit and read a book, catch up on a magazine, or just...sit.  But I feel badly doing that.  Especially when your child yells, "Mom!  Did you see that?" and I have to lie through the pages of my Real Simple magazine and tell him that I did.

I love my kids.  And I realize that my kids might not always play sports, so I try to enjoy it while I can.  What I hate are the other parents.  I don't hate the parents, per say, I just hate how they act at these practices.  They hover.  They side-line coach.  They stand in front of you.  And they talk loudly when you're trying to read.

Last week I found myself texting the Golfer while he was at work.

Why am I here?  Why aren't you here?  This is a daddy thing.  This isn't a mommy thing.

He texted back.

I doubt you're the only mom there.

It was true.  There were many other moms there.  And we all looked miserable.

Why isn't it the 1950's?  Why isn't it like it was for the Wally and The Beave?  They just grabbed their gloves and told June that they were heading to the ball field.  No wonder she always looked so good in her dress and pearls.  She wasn't schlepping her boys all over town and sitting at a dusty baseball field wondering what kind of fast food she was going to be forced to pick up for dinner.

I get the whole "soccer mom" thing.  I get that it's some sort of mama right of passage to be able to say, "I've sat for hours and hours at my child's soccer, T-ball, ballet, gymnastics practice."  But I've done it and now I'm over it.

Unfortunately, I think my time on the practice sidelines is just starting.  The Monkey is the more athletic of our two boys and he is just now finding his grove.  He played soccer and liked that okay.  Then he played football and that wasn't so well received (pun intended.)

But now he's playing T-ball and he's loving it.  After only one practice, the Monkey had his first T-ball game.  He was excited.  I tried to act excited, but I was dreading the hour long organized chaos that the game was sure to be.

Much to my surprise, the game was a hit (pun totally intended.)  The kids and coaches did a great job.  And the Monkey?  Well, I think he might have found his sport.

And you know what?  At this week at practice, watching the kids do well and have fun, well it wasn't so bad.  It was actually kind of fun for the parents too.

Looks like June missed out after all.