A couple weeks ago I started a post and was almost done when some how it vanished. It was probably a good thing. I wrote it while sitting in my Mini Van(named Edgar Martinez, after the best Mariner’s Player ever) outside one of my kids baseball games sobbing my eyes out. 

I had, after a long week of work…taken my son to the wrong baseball field for his game, in the wrong jersey, and dropped him off taking his brother to a different field 20 minutes away for his game. “Stranded at the wrong field” (should be a country song)didn’t have his cell phone, and when he asked an adult for help was told “Go away kid.” Luckily I had a weird feeling, and called my good friend Gretchen who helped me, but also had to hear me swear a lot(sorry). “Stranded” was picked up by husband, who got him to his game just a little late. Everything worked out. 

But me? 


I couldn’t get passed it. I had failed. Again. If you’ve read my blog before failing is kind of a theme. 

But as the weeks have passed by and the season has began to wind down, and back up into play offs I’ve done some thinking. Especially when I’m driving kids to and from practice and games. And I’ve realized my year so far has been a lot like a Baseball Season. 

For as long as I remember Baseball has been my favorite sport to watch. I saw my First Mariner’s game in Third Grade. Years later, I remember in the 90’s sitting outside Church with my Mom listening to the Mariner’s Game from our Toyota Corolla(which would later be my first car). I still get goosebumps thinking about it and can hear Dave Niehaus’s voice and excitement during that 95 season. I think we missed half of Mass that night. 

So, when our boys took an interest in Baseball I was ecstatic. It has been an incredible journey in so many ways. They’ve had amazing seasons, and hard seasons. And baseball has broken our hearts more than once. Especially this year.


“Be a Hitter Baby” 

A fan from an opposing team this season yelled this frequently during our games when we played them. One of my least favorite terms is “be a hitter” and adding baby to it didn’t help. They’re 10. This isn’t Dirty Dancing. I could give you a million other things you can holler as a super fan. But I digress…

I want to be a hitter. I want to get parenting right every single time. I want to have a clean organized house. I want to drop my kids off at the right ball field. I want to do well at my job. I want to be a good wife. And really, I’ve been striking out. A lot. I’ve realized I’m swinging so hard all the time, but I’ve been striking out because the pace is too fast for me. The game has gotten too intense. The pressure has been too great. And it’s discouraging. So discouraging. And no one has put that on me. It’s just me. Trying to handle it all. 

I’ve had to force myself out of my head and the box, and ask for help. I’ve had to ask friends to help with rides, and tell people what I need. I’ve had to miss things(gulp), and try to give myself some grace…which is hard. I have a lot of deep seeded parenting rules for myself- don’t be late…don’t miss a game…don’t be the parent who complains all the time…don’t be the parent who yells “be a hitter baby”…always encourage…and don’t drop your kid off at the wrong field. 

Strike! 

One Two Three…Hits.

This year I’ve watched God do some amazing things. I’ve seen miracles happen. I’ve been woken up from a dead sleep with the word of God for me in my heart. I’ve become so dependent on prayer and His Grace this year. And He has been good. Even though some things have been very hard. I’ve watched all four of my kids grow and flourish, and they continue to inspire me. I’ve also watched them hurt…and work through hard, brave things. Now that I have teenagers, I can’t share their real here, but I can say I’m raising two of the most beautiful perseverant people I’ve ever met. Far braver than I ever was. Far braver than I am. I’ve watched them choose to do the right thing, the hard thing, at all costs. And sometimes it was because of their own mistakes. And we all learned together. These are good things. I am raising good people. I’m so blessed to be their Mom.

Starting Line Up. 

But I can say with all the flourishing my kids have done, this has been one of the loneliest years of my life. There have been some really hard things, things where I really needed reassurance, and I was on the bench. Don’t get me wrong…I have good beautiful friends. And God has brought good beautiful people into my life. But sometimes you just need to cry your eyes out, and have someone listen. Sometimes you need to share your real hard truth, and have someone not downplay it, but give you what you so desperately need…to know you aren’t crazy, know that they are there, and that it may not be okay…but they’ll stay either way. And I’ve become guarded because…some may not. I remember one night talking to a dear friend and trying to share what I was going through…and they kept bringing up their team, their season, their life. Of course I wanted to hear about them, in fact I usually do. But not once did they ask about me. Afterwards I just kept thinking…but I need you. I really really needed you. So there’s been some curve balls. And I’ve come to the realization that You can know and be so Very loved, but also be Lonely, and that’s ok.  And I’m not losing it…even if I just did in the parking lot. 


There will always be better teams. 

Those people that have it all together. They are the exception. My friend Renee. My friend Ashley. They are exceptional. We can’t compare. It took me forever to realize that. Now I can just appreciate their exceptionalness. 

And there will be those who will tell you they are busier, better, more everything  than you. And those people are lame. So don’t compare yourself to them either. 

And there’s the rest of us. The best of us. The people who look like  they’re always winning but are fighting their own real battles. Swinging and missing at their own real pitches. Social Media along with the Life we present can be deceiving. More than we ever want to admit. 

We need to win with Faith, and Lose with Grace. I’m learning that. 

There will always be those umps.

For me, it’s been doctors. Those who are smart but made the wrong calls for a long time…so long I stopped believing I’d ever get better. I’m still pretty nervous and not at all confident. But for every crummy call, there’s a good ump. There’s someone who will listen. Sometimes it just takes a while. Like three years. But big good things and happening, and I’ve got a new season coming up! And it’s gonna be good! And I just know the answers that continue to come will lead to me feeling better. We just need one ump, who is willing to make the good calls. And find a good team who is willing to tell you to keep going. Like my Mom. A few friends. And my family, especially my Husband- my biggest fan. 

Dig. Dig. Dig. 

I’m still learning but the old cliches are still true. 

Don’t give up.

 Don’t stop swinging. 


Keep yourself Guarded in Truth, and you can catch anything. 

Cheer for others. 

Be a good teammate. 

Be honest. 

Be brave. 

Don’t be afraid of trying something new. 

HAVE FUN! 

Be real. 

God bless Baseball. 

I’m grateful for every season. 

And pray. 

…to God be the Glory. K