Mundane Life moving Foward

Sorry, folks. haven't posted in a little while. Things here have been a little crazy. With baseball, life and other stuff, I haven't had time to think, let alone post. Last Friday, I closed on my mother's house, the couple is a young, excited one, looking to make a home in the house. That was a comfort to me, it was a nice neighborhood to grow up, a nice place to have friends, to learn to ride a bycicle, a place to bring my children. You could say that I kind of had a separation problem with having to know it wasn't going to be "mine" anymore. I had to say goodbye, as it were, not to just a house, but to the life that I had there. I spent 25 years of my life there, I was born, brought home to that house and left on my wedding day. I went through the death of a friend at 13, the death of my grandfather, when I was 16, the birthof many neices and nephews. Learned to cook, clean, pay bills, do laundry, and all there. I learned that life isn't always what you dream, it is what you make. My parents weren't perfect, Lord knows, they were more than around the bend from perfect, Dad was a raging alcoholic for a good part of my life, Mom, well, she was a secret keeper, a person ill equipt for parenthood, had too many children, put a touch of paranoia in there, and you have part of the person that she was. I really missed my mother when I went on Wednesday to "say goodbye." I broke down in her empty bedroom, in my old bedroom, and again in the kitchen. I walked through the back yard, the side yard and made sure that the basement was absolutely empty. I hope that the house is a happy one for that young couple, it was one for me.

Let's see, what else...there was a terrible accident (car) a few blocks away from our home. It turns out that the victims were known by us. A 17 year old kid was killed and a 20 year old critically injured, hanging on to life. The 17 year old is a nephew of one of our baseball Moms. She is devestated, to say the least. The 20 year old is the brother of a friend of Danny's. The Dad of that young man was Danny's first coach, his Mom was my Dad's dialysis nurse. My thoughts are with them all. I am really affected by this, every time I look at Patrick, it hits home how close in age these young men are to my son. Every time I looked at him yesterday, tears welled up in my eyes, I was sobbing unabashedly when I watched him make his lunch. It was a scarry feeling to allow him to ride his bicycle to his friend's house. I was grouchy and jumpy all day. I made it through yesterday, and I will make it though today. I will hug all three of my children more, and yell less about silly things. Life will go on in our house.

We had baseball last night, 8pm for Danny, and yes, this is not a typo:930pm for Patrick. I stayed for Patrick's game with Danny, I tookScott home in the middle of Danny's game, he had to work today. I am not liking the team my son is a part of. One coach is a nice guy, one coach I have never formally met, and one coach I wish I had the constitution to choke. Last night he went into a tirade because the kids were losing and being shut out. He was berating them, and that bugs the snot out of me. He was telling Patrick where to play, how to play, usually that is a ocoaches job, but he was giving misinformation, telling him the wrong thing to do at the right time. Patrick, bless his heart, was a little more than vocal with him, he argued with him and finally told him that he knew what he was doing. Patrick is a little disheartened, he was asked to play for them as a catcher and a pitcher, he has pitched once, and caught only a couple of times. Most of the time he spends half a game on the bench and is brought in at third or first base. Once he even played the outfield, a position that he hasn't played in many years. At 15 they are a little more specialized in their positions, and Patrick isn't one to say "no," when he is asked to play anywhere. That is enough of enough, I am going to have a talk, calmly with the manager. I am tired of hearing this supposed adult rant and rave and not control himself. He needs to get a grip on himself, be an adult and a role model, that is what a coach should be. Volitle 15 year olds don't need an adult to push their buttons. Ok, rant over, end, fini. Will try to come up with some type of post that isn't so mundane next time.