Tuesday night, my 10 year old daughter and her school softball team competed in the district championship. They lost. By one run.

That day was “Field Day” at school. The sun was out, it was hot and humid, and they ran obstacle courses for most of the morning and afternoon. By the time they got on the softball field at 6:30, they were tired.

Not to mention, out of the 10 girls on the team, one was out with a head injury and another (who played so we wouldn’t have to forfeit) had recently stepped on some nails. She played right through her pain. Possibly because my husband told her to “gnaw her foot off if she had to”. He’s a charmer, my guy.

These girls gave it all they had. All the hard work and determination paid off, but not quite as much as they would have liked. After they accepted their second place trophy and watched as the first place team celebrated, the tears began to flow.

But, my daughter didn’t cry. Not a drop. As a matter of fact, she was smiling and laughing…and happy. She was completely and totally proud of herself and her team, and she had every right to be.

As we were walking to the car I said, “I’m really proud of you. You pitched well and you hit great. But most of all, I’m really happy with your attitude right now.”

She replied, “Yeah. I’ve been telling myself that even if we lost, I would be really glad that we made it as far as we did. I thought a lot about it and that’s the same thing I’m going to tell myself if I ever get on American Idol.”

It’s good to know that her successful softball season didn’t keep her head from being in the clouds.

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Friday afternoon, I picked up my daughter at school, ran home to pick up the puppy, took her to the vet (then took her back home after her appointment), then quickly got my son and his gear together and drove him to t-ball practice. Also, what else is new? This is why I sometimes forget to breathe.

After practice, the kids and I stopped by a carry-out for some Corona milk then drove home to make a quick pit-stop before heading out to a cookout. On the way home I gave everyone jobs so that we could get to our friends’ house on time, because I knew they were waiting on us.

I told my son, “Your jobs are to take off your cleats, put your socks down the laundry chute, go to the bathroom, wash your hands and grab your Crocs.”

Then I looked in the rear view mirror at my daughter and said, “You let both dogs out and feed them.”

She nodded then asked, “What are your jobs?”

I replied, “I’m going to give the puppy her medicine, give your brother his medicine, and I need to touch up my makeup.”

My daughter questioned me, “Makeup? Why do you need to do that?”

I tried to reassure her that I wouldn’t be cutting into her play time. “I just need to touch up under my eyes.”

“Oh. I can understand that.”

I sarcastically replied, “Gee, thanks!”

“No, Mom. Just because you don’t get enough sleep and you always look so tired.”

“Uh. Thanks, again!”

“Wait. I mean, everyone needs eye makeup, but especially you.”

My daughter. The girl can dig herself in a hole and she doesn’t even need a shovel.

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Last night, my ten year old daughter played in the first round of softball playoffs for her spring league (regular season champions, thankyouverymuch).

Even though she worked on homework from the time she got home from school until the time we left for the game, she still had a bundle of it left to finish after her shower. Because her teacher allows it and because it was almost 9:30 PM, while she completed her math, I worked on typing a report for her. I didn’t change her writing, no matter how much it killed me not to.

I typed that paper word for word. Okay, okay…there was one exception.

Her report on slave turned activist, Sojourner Truth, had facts…I’ll give her that, but I’m pretty sure she took a little liberty with the sentence, “I think Sojourner Truth had a great sense of humor”.

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Yesterday was supposed to be a laid back day around here. No softball, no soccer, no therapy, no appointments. Plus, my son was home sick so I didn’t even have to go to work.

I have now come to realize that there is no such thing as a laid back day.

Back in 2007, I wrote a list of things no one ever told me before I had kids. Yesterday, I added a few more items. Such as…

…it pays to have long limbs, even if that means you once had a high school teacher who nicknamed you orangutan arms. Hypothetically. Because, yesterday I was able to steer my car and hold a bag under the chin of my vomiting son who was sitting on the passenger side of the back seat.

…if you try to read a book with a seven year old around, it is like brushing your teeth with one individual toothbrush bristle. You’ll get the job done, but it’s going to take awhile.

…if your son sees you allowing the dogs to bite a few kernels of corn off a cob which you are holding tightly in your hand, he will take the corn cob he is supposed to be eating, throw it to the ground and let the dogs take turns biting off chunks big enough to cause intestinal blockage in an elephant. Then he’ll sit back and watch as the dogs swallow them whole.

…when you attempt to pour spoonfuls of hydrogen peroxide down your dog’s throat to induce vomiting, she really won’t like you very much.

…when your son is peeing and completely misses the toilet, it’s not necessarily because his aim is bad. It could be that his sister is standing at the sink and he’s trying to pee on her shoe.

…even though the drinks at the circus cost $8.00, go ahead and splurge for more than one so you don’t have to share a straw. Especially if your son has an upper respiratory infection. And, you have asthma. Unless, of course, you think breathing is overrated.

Tell me boys and girls…how did yesterday treat you?

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