Boy Town Baseball

Before we even had kids, I always said I wanted all boys. I guess its a good thing, cause it seems as that's what we will have. A little girl in the mix would have been great, but I do love having me some dirty, smelly boys in my house.

Last night, after a noisy dinner in which Scott and I both prodded the first born child to eat several times, told the second boy child to slow down and chew and finally finished eating ourselves, we went outback to play. Our after dinner play time is perhaps my favorite time of day. I love it when the weather cooperates for after dinner play time outside. While we wait for Q to finish eating, we clean up then head outside...usually, B is already out there cause you can't hold him back, he loves it outback. Nine times out of 10, we commence with a game of baseball.

Q has always been an avid baseball fan. Seriously, his first word was ball. At age 2 he could hit off a tee like you wouldn't believe (incidentally, as coordinated as B is, he still cannot hit a ball off a tee). So we are most likely playing baseball as a family. Q studies baseball games on T.V., I have to take a video of his skills. When he pitches, he winds up and has the perfect routine when throwing. And he actually has a pretty good arm. We started letting him use a real tee ball instead of a wiffle ball and his accuracy is pretty good. He's learning to catch with a glove on, which is funny cause he's getting over being scared of the ball. He's now learned to keep his eyes open when catching...its pretty funny. While Q pitches to Scott or I, B runs around the outfield chasing the ball, then refuses to relinquish it back to the pitcher. To rectify this situation, we play with approximately 100 balls, well really 4 (cause he can't carry more than 3 at a time). We rotate pitchers and catchers and fielders. Its a blast. I'm a terrible fielder cause I refuse to chase anybody to make an out, but Q is always commenting how good I hit. Yeah that's right, I can hit AND I'm a girl. HA. Lately, my legs get so heavy at night, I sit and play the 'umpire'. Lame and lazy, I know.

We have a little dirt patch in the back by the fence where Scott's smoker killed the grass and it makes the perfect home plate. Q loves to catch and slide into home. B likes to roll around in the dirt there. It makes for a messy game. But I love it. There's something about when a kid comes inside from playing, covered in dirt that secretly delights me. I never care about what gets stained or destroyed by dirt and grime. To me being dirty is evidence of fun. And last night was no exception, I wish I could have taken a picture of our "Pig Pens" after last nights game. B had shed his shorts and was just wearing a onesie (how white trash,I know), and Q was covered head to toe in dusty dirt from home plate. Both were hot sweaty messes, and I could not have been more pleased. They hit the showers and came out squeaky clean and ready for bed.

I love it. Love my boys and am excited for another one to join the mix.