Foul Homeruns and Dirty Cartwheels

Once upon a time I was a little girl, who played with baby dolls and dreamed of being a mom someday.  Even in my little girl dream I pictured myself sitting and watching my child(ren) play or participate in something they enjoyed.  I'll say it was a little surreal to sit during B's first t-ball practice, let me tell you.

We showed up early - B decked in baseball shirt (chosen by himself) and his Cardinals baseball hat (Go Cards!) - and B was introduced to Coach Ron.  It's amazing what this kid will do - without whining, may I add - when another person, specifically a person who is willing to play any kind of ball, asks him to do it. 

 
We - I mean, they - started off practice with some warm ups.  Don't want anyone on the DL list to start the season and all.  That's my little man there in the red hat holding his glove.  No sir, he wasn't putting it down!

Then - coach had the boys run the bases, calling out the name of each base as they stepped on it.  We don't want anyone running the wrong way in the heat of the moment, ya know.   (Though, my son did, later, run from first to third, straight across the pitcher's mound.  I kid you not.  This is a proud momma right here!)

And so - B had his shot playing first base, stopping and catching balls right and left and throwing them back in to coach.

He then got moved to shortstop, and later to third.  This little man of mine has an arm, let me tell you!  There's not a bit of sarcasm in that statement.  He's going to have his daddy's knack for all things sports.  I hope Ans' get's some of daddy's athleticism.  This momma has none.

And finally - the golden moment, the moment he'd been waiting for all night, the time to bat.  My son, yes, he loves to bat, and yes, he's good at it.  He's getting accustomed to batting off a tee, as he's used to being pitched to by the parentals, but he's hanging.  May I just mention, B just loves wearing his 'baseball shoes'.  Yes, he does.

And - after being coached multiple times to run to second when the ball was hit, alas, the ball was hit a short little hopping grounder right between first and second.  As if the pitcher and first baseman (who should have been on his base) weren't enough fielders for the ball, B thought he'd pile on and field the ball himself.  Ahem.

But no fear, folks, Coach picked him quickly from atop the pile and sent him onward to where 2nd base awaited his arrival.  

Unfortunately - my favorite moment of the evening was not captured in images, but B apparently had grown tired of waiting for the struggling little lad who was attempting to bat to make contact with the ball, and when I looked up for him when he should have been paying good attention on second, he was cartwheeling around the bag in the dirt.  I kid you not.  And you know, they were good cartwheels, too, I tell ya.  

At least he's not kicking dirt and picking flowers yet.  

Yet.  

;) 

-a