Take Me Out To The Ballgame.

For the last five years or so our summer evenings have gotten pretty busy with a certain guy's baseball schedule.

Baseball is that one thing that he really, truly loves and does with everything he's got.

This is his third summer as a starting pitcher and, he is so good.

Look at that hit!
We eat a quick dinner. Pack up some snacks, some waters, chairs, blankets. And we go and we cheer our guy on.

"Go Ty Go" she yells! See T standing at 3rd base?

We put all the other families to shame with our cheering and the fan club that grows as the season does. T is one lucky guy.

And while I do enjoy watching T play, some nights, when M and the littles want nothing to do with even looking the direction of the field, I am daunted by the task of watching them not watch him.

Sometimes I feel like our family creates as much entertainment as the game we're watching.

Do you know why I find this picture of M and the littles hilarious? Not one of them is even sitting the direction of the field.

The other night we brought two cars to T's game knowing that I would probably leave early with the other kids just because it gets late quick and attention spans get lost and sometimes we just overstay our welcome at the game.

Overstay we did. While E didn't run out onto the field while T was pitching this game (because that happened last time), H started climbing the fence. Yeah, that fence.

Every game has to have that one kid that climbs the fence, don't they?

And the kids that dump out their water bottles. After stomping on the grapes and blueberries I packed.

H and E also sometimes like to tag team it and each run a different direction. Usually in the middle of a really great play.

And then there's the sunscreen that I thought was harmless enough fun for E to dab on herself for the first 30 minutes of the game until someone (someone not in our family, mind you) pointed out that she was eating it.

Many (not all, but many) of the families there supporting their kids don't have little, little ones. Instead their youngest is out there playing. Or there youngest is old enough to sit and watch the game.

And sometimes I think these people forget what it's like to have small children and how it's a completely unrealistic expectation to have them sit and watch the game for two plus hours two nights a week. Especially when they've been going and doing all day long.

And sometimes, just sometimes, I leave early all huffy and frustrated. Feeling like my kids and my parenting are being judged.

When really, I'm thinking, these people are just trying to watch their kids play in the game and could care less what my (adorable, they like to tell me) kids are doing. Right?

Which is why we keep going. Even on the nights when it's a lot of work and we're all a little bit tired.

Creating havoc or not, we love to watch our guy, number 10.

**Speaking of baseball, this Friday night, I'll be throwing the first pitch at the Saint Paul Saints game. So if you're looking to make some weekend plans, go buy tickets to the game and come say hi! J, H and I can't wait to be there.**