Small Town Baseball Season.

     Baseball/Softball season has struck once again. When signing Kaila and Joe up, the vague thought was in the back of my head that, I am one person, with two kids on two different teams, and I work very far away, and on those days I work, I am not home untill after they go to bed.  How did I plan on getting these children to where they need to be? I figured I would address the issue when it came up.
      I have come to realize, with our work schedules, that I live the life of a single Mom, without actually being single. Not sure how I feel about that? I rarely see this person whom, according to pictures and documentaion, I married almost 15 years ago. Last I knew, he had somewhere along the way, grown a rather bushy and large red beard. I'm not sure when that happened. One day, we happened to be home at the same time, and I hardly recognized this person on my porch. Does one let strange bearded men, who look like they just survived the last 4 years lost in the wilderness, enter one's home, just because they claim to be the Father of your children? He looks like a misplaced leprachaun, this man who insists he resides at the same address. I am only slightly aware that sometimes, in the middle of the night, some person with perpetualy cold feet, crawls into bed, shortly before I crawl out of it. But seriously, if whomever it is, is not otherwise requiring my immediate attention; I don't normaly care. It could be the Boogy Man, and, if he wasn't bothering me; he may rest there undisturbed by this writer. I take sleep when I can get it, these days.

     Anyhow, back on track, it's just the kids and me. And it's baseball season. And, we're managing. And, being a small town, there are always amazing people out there, who are willing and able to let your kid ride along with them, when the parents of the year here, are unable to make games or practices. Those games and practices that I am always completely unprepared for.
     Every other Mom there always comes armed with bug spray, sun block, drinks, snacks, and toys for the younger siblings. They remember folding chairs, blankets and extra jackets. I am the mom that sits freezing on the bleachers telling my frozen children that they are only cold because they are not running enough. And that no child ever died from dehydration with only an hour without water in 70 degree weather. Well. Maybe 70 degrees. No matter what the tempurature is at home, it is always at least 50 degrees hotter or colder than it is anywhere else. There is no point in preparing. If the thermometer reads 75, it will probably be 35 with whipping winds, down at the baseball fields. Or 110 with 100% humidity. I rock at this whole parenting thing. I promised Lexi $30.00 at the end of ball season, if she would watch George at all games and practices, and take him to playgrounds at whatever park we end up at. Actually, I told her $20.00, but, she pointed out that there are TWO kids on ball teams, and therefore, she wanted $40.00. We settled on $30.00. Gotta respect the thought process there.

     No matter what the work schedules, the kids seem to have adjusted to them very well. As evidenced by the pre-dawn conversation yesterday:

MOM! ARE YOU HOME??

Yes George. Stop yelling, you're going to wake everybody up.

(Head appears at my bedside.)

I didn't miss you when you were at work. And I don't like kisses.

Go back to bed, George.

I'm starving, I don't think I feel good, I have to go potty, you need to feed me. Time to get up.

I should kiss you.

Yuck. I hate kisses.

I know.

Get up!

Can I beat you, then?

No. I changed my name to Joe. And my butt is all gone. It fell off last night.

Oh good! I needed to beat Joe today anyway. May as well get it out of the way. C'mere.

My name is George. And I missed you so much, and I love kisses. Can you pleeeaaaaase get up with me?

I suppose so.

Glad to know they are not pining away for their Mother.

In other news, we (by "we", I mean that guy with the red beard who keeps insisting he lives with us. May as well make himself usefull, right?) have been scraping the house. It needs to be re-painted this summer. This is something we knew needed to be done, and have been juggling possible paint colors for some time now. The choice at the time of this decision was painting the house red, with black trim, and a butter colored front door. Oh  my goodness. Some people loved the idea, and some absolutely hated it. I began to have self doubts. What if we painted it red, and it started to fade, like a barn? What if we hated it? What if it looked dumb? What if, what if, what if?? So, I started to look at other colors. Jasin liked blue. But, we live next to a blue house. There was this color called "Quail" I liked, but, how boring! Kaila and I found this nice sage green, with eggplant trim, but, again, what if it looked awful? And, over the years, the house has been painted lots of times. And, it always seems to end up some shade of green. I almost think the house WANTS to be green. Do I really want to make it mad? I've read the occasional horror story, and seen the occasional horror movie. One does not anger one's house. Kind of throws a whole new dimention in there, doesn't it? (Good Catholic girl that I am. My Mother would smack me silly if she read that. Thank goodness she does not read my Blog.) The internet was NO help. Every other thing I read contradicted every other thing written. A friend told me it cannot be a light color; those attract bugs. And look dirty. I dream in paint swatches currently. And, in the back of my head, I keep in mind the perpetual twinkle lights around my front door. Would the color look good with twinkle lights and the black eyed susans in the front garden? Would the color look good with Christmas lights? At this point, I cannot wait to see what color it ends up. I'm pretty sure the bearded guy isn't going to re-paint it if I hate it, so, here's hoping it looks good!