Yesterday was one of those days you couldn't have scripted any better than it already was. The sun shone, the temps rose into the 60's, and Coach took the day off. I taught my two fitness classes at the Y, then headed out to the car to find a texted picture from Coach of him and Tot at the Waffle House. The message included the line: "3 sausage patties and a waffle." The smile on Tate's face was priceless, and it had nothing to do with sausage. If I could have captioned it, it would have read: "Me and my daddy ate at the Waffle House." Ahh, happy Tate, happy mom!
I like to think I count my blessings every day (you know, they're right under my nose most of the time), but yesterday was different. It was like everything good in my life was highlighted with a bright yellow Sharpie. Like the sun's rays were pointing right on the four people who make my life sweet. Perhaps subconsciously I have chosen to block out certain moments from that day, but I don't recall any fighting, no missing jerseys or socks, no last minute homework assignments, no pre-teen sass. Nothing but the memories that I've tucked away in that special place, saved up for one of those days when the clouds inside are as dark as the ones outside. Waffle House was only the beginning; my sun shone all day, even when the moon came out and the sky got dark.
With Coach at home for the day, I headed to car rider line solo and once I had Tanner picked up, I invited him to take a walk with me around the lake behind the school. He seemed a little hesitant at first, but then he happily agreed and we headed that way. Almost immediately after we started, he reached down and grabbed my hand, and yes, folks, that is how we walked. Thirty minutes of hand in hand swinging, talking about girlfriends, milkshakes, and the baseball game that night. You know, the important stuff. Never once did he flinch, pull away from my hand because of a passing car, a neighbor checking the mail, or a sweaty palm. I once ran a 5k on those very same streets we were walking, even won the women's division, but I can assure that when I remember that course, it won't be for the 23 minute PR.
Later that evening we headed out for baseball, Tanner and Coach to their 6:00 game, and me chauferring Tucker and Tate to Tucker's 7:30 game. On the way there, Tucker indulged me in a little 6th grade drama. It wasn't much, of course, but what I got was some kid criticizing Tucker about his baseball skills and his performance on the mound. As steam escaped from my ears and my top threatened to blow, I calmly (thank you, Jesus) reminded him that to respond to another person's cruel remarks would only make him look as petty as the offender. I suggested the old shoulder shrug and a subtle "whatever, dude." Then I silently prayed that his confidence would remain strong, that the advice I'd given him would prove correct, and that he'd pitch a H*** of a game.
And pitch he did! Despite cruel winds and frosty temperatures, Tucker pitched his second win of the season, garnered his second game ball, and without even trying, put to rest any ugly rumors that he doesn't deserve to be on the mound. After his 10th strike out, this icicle-laden mom mustered the energy to hobble to the dugout to hear the team's rally after that one-run win. Sure, I was proud of him for his pitching and his hit, but I was perhaps most proud when I heard him congratulate the kid who had earlier in the day criticized him behind his back. Yep, his biggest critic was a teammate, and my 11 year old had the confidence, the forgiveness, and the character to commend him on a great hit.
Oh, and I haven't forgotten person number four who makes my life sweet. As much fun as it is to watch my boys play ball, it is just as awesome to watch Coach pace behind the back stop, question the ump's bad calls, and do his own coaching from behind the plate. And when a slight smile manages to escape his mouth after an awesome catch at first base by Tanner or a strike out on a change up by Tucker, it is then that my cup runs over!
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