it’s a dad, dad, dad world

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I’m done with softball. Which isn’t that big of a deal for me, because I was always on the sidelines, hanging with the moms who would rather be in the shade than the stands. I am relieved, and happy for the ending, which was remarkable. Alex has moved onto her 10u team, with practices 4 days a week. Steve is still supporting her (right now, helping her condition a new catcher’s glove), just has he has since she was seven.

I overheard her tell someone that her dad was her best friend, and that he has been catching for her forever. That’s true. It’s just what they do. I asked him how many hours….he had no idea. Hundreds for sure. He did tell me that this year, especially, he knew that every moment out there was something to be treasured.

But Steve had has had his own support…Mike and Dave. We refer to them as his boyfriends, and no one even blinks. They started coaching together when the girls were ten, and just stayed together. They have stood (no sitting) with Steve for every game, the entire hot, dusty, challenging, thrilling, frustrating, delightful and proud journey.

Next stop, the golf course…for them, and the wine bar for me. I have a few moms to meet, myself.

kind of like cinderella, but with dirt and a yellow ball

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Last night was the end of Alex’s softball career. The game was brilliant. Oh, and so was she. I know that it’s brag mom-speak, but this moment is something she has been working towards for years. She had the game of her career…at the right moment, with the right girls. It was incredible, for all of us. Please forgive me if I share this article (I can bring you coffee and a muffin while you read it, if you like).

After the last game, the girls went back to the center of the field to huddle and sing the song they start every game with (a song none of us understand or know, but it’s their way, and somehow it demonstrates how, well, just how they are).

And then, in celebration (I hope of themselves), they threw dirt into the air.

Well played girls, well played.

winding down

Softball is almost over. One more day, maybe two, of CIF playoffs. We’ve been doing this since she was seven…it got serious when she was ten. It’s really between Alex and Steve, none of my DNA is involved. She’s had some challenges (one of them being that she’s short, which I suppose is my DNA). But she’s had others too… and every time she perseveres and just keeps going.

I spend the games in my big black chair, the one I have carried with me for years, even though the footrest is now gone. That footrest provided the illusion of relaxation and got me through the early pitching years. Steve spends the games pacing. Hanging out with the dads. Growing gray hair. He never sits down.

On Saturday she pitched her first playoff game. The newspaper reporter told her she was gutsy. She was. They won. And she felt the support of her team, her favorite coaches, and the parents who have been loving on her for years.

Next week she starts coaching her 10u All Stars team. The six seniors on the Varsity team started together as 10u All Stars. That was eight summers ago.

When I imagined myself as a mom, I imagined that I’d be a drama club mom, or an art mom. Maybe a political-social activist mom. I never thought about sports much at all. And the concept of being Kate’s horse mom and Alex’s softball mom? Never entered my mind. Goes to show what I know.

On Saturday I left my chair at the softball complex and I doubt that I will see it again. That’s ok, some other softball mom can use it. I hope she appreciates the double drink holders in the arms. She’s going to need them.

kitchen counter still life

Rocks from the beach, Alex’s St. Louis Cardinals hat (the one she wore to the Giants game with Steve on Wednesday…if you looked closely, you could see them on TV), the flier to Steve’s art show on Friday evening, water, sunglasses.

Sticks and stones.

Mother’s Day card from Steve.

Life. Still. Here. Happy Friday.

grow. here. now.

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It’s a real garden this year. Steve is excited about his beets and peppers. I am excited about my herbs and plant markers (yup, made ‘em myself, out of FIMO). We’re both awaiting the tomatoes, especially the tie dye ones. Green is groovy. Especially in the morning.

a year ago

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A year ago I wrote this.

It’s been a year without a dog. I was ok, until I saw a dog that looked just like him at the beach on Sunday. I noticed the eyebrows first. Steve mentioned the tail.

I don’t want another dog, at least not yet. And I know my life is easier. But it’s just not the same.

We’ve been spending every weekend in the yard, and every once in a while we come across one of his toys, buried in the dirt. Neither of us wants to be the first to pull them up and throw them. So they just stay buried.

Sigh. Oh Toby, you were a butt-head, but we did love you so.

 

limantour beach

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We typically spend Mother’s Day at the Whole Earth Festival, wandering amongst the wanderers. It’s always wonderful. But this year the weather was predicted to be in the 90′s, so I decided to skip the tie dye-palooza and go to Point Reyes, where it would be cooler. And there would be oysters. And maybe wine.

It was cooler, in fact, it was really cold. Turns out it was only 82 in Davis! But we had a great hike, and we did finish off the day with oysters in Tomales. No wine though, Marshall General Store only sells by the bottle, so we split a beer instead.  By the way, did you know that 6 raw oysters are only 56 calories?

happy mother’s day

I hope it begins with a great cup of coffee and ends with a lovely glass of wine. And that there are hugs and naps in between.

PS. I found this on Pinterest, but can’t source the photographer. It’s nice though, isn’t it?

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