Wednesday, January 14, 2015

The Beginning of the Beginning

I'm back.....I know that it has been a few days since posting, but my two classes end this week which means that I am grading, grading, and grading some studies....sheesh....a girl has to work for a living, right? Otherwise, I could not afford the plethora of Girl Scout cookies sold me. Can't ever say no to a Girl's a personal code that I develop during the years when I was a scout.....

How are things in the BPM stratosphere? Well, besides spending an enormous amount of time reading term papers and dreaming of warm weather, palm trees, and little alcoholic beverages with umbrellas in them, not much.

Although, something that has never happened to me as a parent has occurred. In fact, it has me bugged beyond belief.....

The baseball team usually has a Kick off the season banquet with speeches, guest speakers, and team introductions. I have never, ever missed one....ever...and yet...there is a first time for everything. The announcement came on Monday that the banquet (with rubber chicken and frozen cheesecake for dessert) will be held at the end of the month. Sadly, dad and I will be out of town and cannot change our plans. So I am going to miss it.

Why does this bother me? This is an easy answer. This bothers me because I have never missed anything pertaining to the kids' sports, activities, and education. I have attended every concert, science and history fairs, book fairs, games, bingo nights, plays, community activities, and so on. I have been the home room mother many times. Further, my car was always available to take the kids on class trips, Girl Scout events, camping (ew), Broadway shows, nature trips, and camps. Am I a control freak? Nope, just an involved parent. And now that my little boy's academic baseball career is ending, I cannot be present for this momentous event.

OK, maybe this is momentous in my own mind, but I am truly distressed that I will not be there to witness and absorb the end of a lifetime of work. Dad thinks that I am nuts and perhaps he is right. But in my fractured mind, I have attended the first and last of everything and everything else in the middle, and this banquet is it. Final. Finite. Over. Done. No more school baseball banquets. This is it. No more.

Who is more upset about it?

 Me, of course. I want to be there at the end even if it does not mean anything to the guys. It means a great deal to me since it is the beginning of the end. Or, is it the beginning of the beginning?


Let me explain.....

The kid will graduate this spring. Let me repeat this fact: He will graduate. Yes, he will graduate with a college degree in journalism and a minor in business. He has managed to keep his grades up despite the travel and distractions of baseball. Although, he remains on the Board of Shame in the locker room (anyone under a grade point average of 3.0 is there. Yes, it is a violation of federal law, but we can use this for our purposes if things do not go well this semester with the Czar).

As a senior, this is it for traveling with his college team. No more. In a way, it is sad. I won't be traveling to campus every week to sit in sub zero temperatures watching my son sit in the bullpen spitting seeds and waiting for the chance to throw the ball. With all the hard work, he is now a weekend starter. This means that he is scheduled and not a last minute thought or arm.

If he does well (and he will), he will come under the attention and scrutiny of a major league scout. If all continues to go well, he will be drafted by a team. Then this will be the beginning of something else even more terrifying. He will be in the minor leagues and we will start another blog, "minor league mom".

Therefore, this season is now crowned, the 'beginning of the beginning....."

Just a quick story...yesterday, he threw a bullpen and pitched well. The pitching and batting coaches were complimentary (quick, get me some smelling salts, I am going to faint). However, the pitching coach took him aside and told him that he knew that he was doing extra work. The kid just nodded but did not add to the comment. Psycho looked at him and said: "Be discrete. Do not overdo it." Hmmm........perhaps Psycho was driving by the pizza shop late one night and saw a familiar figure throwing his weighted balls at the wall. Or was he in line as TSA took the weighted balls, construed as weapons, off the plane. Either way, he was offered a bit of respect that he should remember as he is screamed at after he throws a home run ball during the first scrimmage.

By the way, I want to thank my children for making me a mom and giving me the opportunity to experience things that have been so special in their lives that they have enhanced the quality of my life. Nothing that I have done professionally or personally has been more inspiring than watching my own children grow from little children to young adults. It has been a privilege. Whatever happens, they are my treasures....

Gotta run....papers await.....


No comments:

Post a Comment