We are a few weeks into one of my favorite times of year: baseball season. This time is different because it’s the baby’s turn to play.
As soon as my first son was old enough to play baseball, we signed him up. I think I may have been more excited than he was, but he ended up loving it. We watched him grow from a tiny three-year-old tee ball player to a teenager, and spent more than a decade of springs, summers, and falls watching him play. So many of our family memories have been centered around baseball and I’m so thankful for all those years. Sometimes I wish we could go back in time. That’s why I’m struggling a bit with the baby starting baseball. Selfishly, I want him to fall in love with the sport so we can do it all over again, but I’m also trying to just enjoy this season without any expectations.
Everything with the third kid has been different, and this is no exception.
For one thing, we waited later to start him in all the things. We have tried a few different sports so far, but nothing as intense as what the first two kids were doing at his age. We are in a different season of life, so most of his activity has been tagging along with whatever his siblings are doing. But now that he is starting to do activities of his own, I have to remind myself that he’s only five and he’s there to have fun.
Some days he’s excited for baseball. Other days, he has other things he wants to do. During games, he spends more time looking over at us than watching the ball. He likes playing in the dirt, putting his glove on his head, and sometimes dancing in the outfield when he’s supposed to be paying attention to the game. I have to fight the urge to coach him from the sidelines and remind him to be ready. (OK. I don’t fight the urge, but I’m working on it.)
At five, he’s just now learning the sport. He’s figuring out how to swing the bat, which way to run, how to hold his glove, and trying to pay attention and keep his eye on the ball (sometimes). I want him to try his best and be as successful as he can, but he just wants to have fun. And maybe while he’s learning a new sport, he’s actually teaching me. I need the reminder to calm down and enjoy this stage. Instead of getting frustrated at what he can’t do yet, I can focus on his face when he hits the ball and throws that bat over his shoulder, or how happy he looks when he runs the bases. It really is a fun age and so cute!
It’s hard to slow down, enjoy the moment, and avoid drilling the skill building part of the sport, but I’m thankful for the chance to start over with baseball, whether it’s for one season or 13 years. For now, my job is to encourage my child and help him build confidence.
One way or another, this strong-willed, independent, third kid of mine will forge his own path, on or off the baseball field. And I will be there to cheer him on!
