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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My son was on the phone with my Mom, who he calls Vo-Vo (it’s Portuguese for grandma), when suddenly he blurted out, “Hey Vo-Vo! You know the biggest book in your house? Well, I love you all the pages in that book!” Apparently, he thought up a new version of his “I love you to infinity game”.

I smiled as he listened to her then he said, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah. Well, I love you 10,000 miles.”

I looked over at my little guy, fresh from a bath, all cozy on the couch in his Mario pajamas and I started to get teary. He looked so perfect and sweet, holding the phone to his ear and it melted my heart to hear him talking to my Mom like that.

Again, he took in her reply, “Oh! Uh-huh. Well, I love you all the way into space in a rocket ship.”

He listened again as she tried to top him and I should have known the heart-melting wouldn’t last.

Because he then grew tired of his own game when he let out a big sigh then said, “You know what? I think we tied.”

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It is every parent’s hope and dream that their children will turn out better than they did. We wish for better opportunities, less stress and more intelligence for our offspring.

When I play with our new puppy, Daisy, I get down on the floor and talk in puppy language. I say things like, “Let me rub that super-duper, pupper-wupper, Buddha, frog belly and those oogley-googley ears!”

Yesterday, my ten year old daughter was romping on the floor with Daisy when I heard her say, “Daisy! How in the world can you be holding me down when you don’t even have opposable thumbs?”

If our puppy talk is any indication, this kid already has me beat in the intelligence department.

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Yesterday morning, I tested my level of parenting endurance when the school where I work said they needed me to leave my second grade class for the day and go on my son’s field trip. Thirty kindergartners, a city bus, a downtown transfer and an imminent rainstorm, all at the ripe hour of 8:00 AM.

First, we missed our bus. Then as we stood waiting for the next one to arrive, my son tugged on my arm to tell me he had to poop. Of course.

I did what any self-respecting mother would do and said, “I don’t know what to tell you. You’re going to have to just shove it back up in there.”

On the bus, we met lots of colorful characters. At one point, I mentioned to my son that our new puppy would likely pee in her cage because we would be gone so long, to which he replied, “I bet she will. I can kind of smell her pee right now.” No sweetie, that’s the guy standing next to me.

After the field trip, we waited an eternity for the bus to take us back downtown. We were in a lovely area of Columbus, affectionately referred to as “The Bottoms”. There was lots of trash for the kids to play with and some delightful graffiti for our emerging readers. Something about someone’s mom and a particular body part.

On the bus trip home, I can’t decide if it was more fun to stand for half the ride, or whether it was watching my son’s “buddy” touch the bottom of his shoes and then hold my son’s hand as we walked back to school in the rain. When we finally got back to our car, I just went ahead and had my boy drink some hand-sanitizer.

After arriving home, I spent over an hour on the phone (45 minutes of that on hold) trying to find a baker who can make a Mario cake for my son’s birthday party this weekend. Sorry kid, you’re getting Matchbox cars.

Then, I cleaned pee out of the puppy’s cage. Not from when we were gone for four hours in the morning, but from when I put her in there for 15 minutes so I could do some laundry. Which, makes perfect sense. Oh, and she learned how to climb the steps, so now I have two levels of house on which to chase her.

And, for the icing on the cake? I found my son had etched a self-portrait into our mahogany dining room table.

Some days, there just isn’t enough wine.

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