This summer, this baseball Mama has enjoyed the wonder that comes with sitting in an oversized camp chair and watching grass grow AKA Little League Baseball. (If you know, you know). Most recently, my son ended the season with a championship game that stretched nearly 3-hours, 4 innings of overtime, and when all was said and done, an undefeated season that I’m sure my son will never forget. Neither will mom.
This riveting end to a somewhat uneventful season comes around the same time my social media feed is being bombarded with graduation cliches, including “by the time your child is 18, they will have spent 93% of in-person time they will ever spend with you.”
At the tender age of 10 going on 30. I can feel that. My little boy quickly outpacing my unmowed lawn – pants suddenly to short and his sass extra-large. Each day and endless food requests a reminder to maximize these moments that will soon become treasured memories. Each conversation a window into my mini-me who is slowly finding his independence. A glimpse into a world where I’m no longer cook, maid, ATM, teacher, and chauffer, but instead just mom.
This messy middle, while exhausting at times, is fun to watch. To watch my son evolve into his own. It leads me to ask the same – who am I becoming? This month we celebrate our country’s Independence and the sacrifices those made for us to get here. This mid-year holiday an opportunity to pause and celebrate my own Independence as well. To take stock of what I have and where I am going. To remember who is in charge, despite what others might say. To approach the second half of the year as an opportunity to take baby steps filled with progress and setbacks and life lessons, with an ultimate goal of being a strong independent woman. An opportunity not to necessarily start over – but to remember I’ve got a lot of run way left in the game of life.
I recently read a book by Tom Vanderbilt about being a beginner. There were several noteworthy takeaways but the thing that struck me most is that at the end of the day, we don’t necessarily want to be known for what we’re good at. Instead, we’d rather be known for what we’re pursuing – the thing just out of our grasp – but that fuels us each day. That somehow, when we’re at the start of our journey, there is a willingness to be vulnerable and expose our failures because they are expected in the beginning. It means we’re learning. This explains a lot about my desire to continuously try new things even if I fail. I used to think it was a fear of regret, but if I pause and flip that lens, I realize is also about a pursuit of pursuing the things that make me happy – to push my boundaries to become my true self.
As much as I grumble about the speed of baseball, I equally embrace the opportunity to slow down and ponder these thoughts in-between the occasional action on the field. This championship game was no exception. A true full circle moment, where I couldn’t help but think back to my little league championship moment nearly 35-years ago. Both mother and son sassy catchers with a fierce competitive streak and desire to be better.
To the coaches and parents and mentors who encourage kids to dream big and live large (and volunteer countless hours chasing balls and wiping tears), thank you.
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