It’s not that I don’t love tee ball and watching my son swing and pitch and throw grass and twirl in the outfield. Unlike soccer, I actually enjoy baseball. Maybe I should say, I actually understand the rules and know how to play. Still, tee ball season is already killing me and we’re just in week two.
Joseph’s league has two games a week starting at either 5:30 or 6:30. With my new job and longer hours, this means I rush home from work on the nights they start at 5:30 with barely enough time to grab his water bottle and a sweatshirt before I run back to the field.
And after the games, it’s rush home for dinner and bed with barely a second to spare.
The 6:30 nights are even worse. We get home at 7:30 which is actually my kids’ bedtimes.
(Cut me some slack. They have to wake up around 6:00 to get ready to go for the day. They need the sleep or they’re slugabugs in the mornings.)
Some of the moms and I were talking about doing some sort of pizza night before the game on our 6:30 nights. I’m hoping that helps slow down the dinner rush.
Still, twice a week just seems like a lot. And I hate rushing.
And that’s the only thing he’s in. I know moms with their kids in karate, tee ball, and music lessons. I need a nap just thinking about their schedules.
Every other mother assures me this is just the beginning. It apparently gets crazier when both kids are involved. Personally, I’m thinking of running away. Or, at least, bringing a chair next time.
