“Run, Grace, run!” Ace yells over shouts of all the other parents. “No not that way! Run to second base. No not back to first base, run over there!”
Pedro stands next to second base, waving Grace to him, but she’s having none of it. There is a dandelion in the middle of the infield and she is running straight to it.
Brittany and I are laughing so hard, we’re trying not to pee in our seats. Because seriously, there is nothing funnier than watching three-year-olds play t-ball. Expect maybe watching our husbands try to coach it. It’s like children leading children.
Grace finally gets her flower and walks calmly over to Pedro who has his hands on his hips and is shaking his head. I’m not sure how the men didn’t anticipate her distraction. She loves the wild flowers on the farm as much as her mama does, so it should be no surprise she had to pick it before playing ball.
Wiping our eyes of tears, Brittany and I refocus our attention on the field.
“Let’s go, Nio,” she yells happily, rubbing her swollen belly. Baby number two will be here any day and she looks fantastic. No swollen ankles or pain. She’s one of those “happy” pregnant women who has the glow that’s not made from sweat. I would roll my eyes about how much she enjoys being pregnant, but my shop is closed so she can do it all she wants.
We watch as Nio struts up to the plate, using the same swagger I’ve seen on his dad before. The kid is the spitting image of his father, except with blond hair and blue eyes. The contrast is striking, and we’ve had more than one conversation between the four of us that these two toddlers are never allowed to date.
Nope. The second hormones kick in, we’re all going to sit down for a long, honest conversation.
Not that it’ll do any good. Nio already has a huge crush on Grace, who doesn’t give him the time of day. We all know that means he’ll be eating out of her hand by the time they’re in high school. Heaven help us all.
As Ace balances the ball on the tee, Nio gets in position.
“Okay, bud. Go for it,” my husband says, and Nio takes a swing.
He misses and spins around a few times before falling over in the dirt.
Brittany and I start laughing again, trying to muffle it behind our hands but it’s just so hard.
Once Ace helps him wipe the dirt off his pants, Nio gets in position again and swings.
“THWAK!” The ball ricochets off the bat and flies through the air, surprising all of us, including several tiny kids in the outfield who are startled when it lands in the grass.
Then the race is on.
Nio runs for third base while Ace tries to get his attention, four kids clamor for the ball, three of them end up crying when one of them gets it. That kid throws as hard as he can and the ball nails another kid on the back of the head, knocking him to the ground as his too big helmet falls off.
I look over and thankfully, Julie has her phone up, recording the whole thing. No doubt it will end up on social media later, and I’m glad. This debacle needs to be seen by the masses.
Finally, and unfortunately for us, the official umpire (some kid Julie graduated with who works for the YMCA part time) calls time and the game is over.
Parents collect their chairs and their kids, heading for their cars, all praising their kiddos for a job well done.
Or to post their own videos. Who knows? I just hope I get tagged in anything that ends up on social media. I may hate that Brittany loves being pregnant, but I’m thrilled we’ll get to do this again in three more years.
“Great game, babe.” I flash a smile at my man and give him a big smooch.
“Uh huh,” he deadpans. “You’re biased because you have a thing for the coach.”
I gasp. “I would never flirt with Pedro!”
He slaps me on the ass, making me squeal, then picks up the chair, now safely in its carry case, and throws it over his shoulder.
“I did good, Mama!” Grace announces, grabbing my hand with the one not holding the now wilted dandelion.
“You did, baby girl. And Julie has it all on video!”
Grace’s eyes widen, and she lets go of my hand to race toward her sister. Those two are thick as thieves. It’s a good thing too. I don’t see Julie moving out any time soon.
I sigh. Julie has had a rough go of it. She’s getting herself on track, but it’s taking time. I’m grateful to the guys on the farm for giving her a safe place to land. They look out for her and take care of her like a bunch of big brothers. I know it’s helped.
But I also know the struggles she has are temporary, and because of it, I need to let the chips fall where they may. I’m grateful she has such a huge support system. Just like I’m grateful for the fact that Grace is a perfectly normal, healthy baby girl.
Don’t get me wrong, the relief I have felt over the years isn’t in having a perfect baby. Because she isn’t any more perfect than either of the other kids. She’s a tiny little human who will grow up to present her own flaws, have her own ideas, have her own opinions. She will make her own choices, like picking flowers in the middle of t-ball. Because that’s what babies are—little humans. We can’t figure out what most of their opinions are until they’re older.
And I know full well what it’s like to love a child with a disability. So does Ace. If any couple had been equipped to handle it, should Grace have had issues, it’s us. We understand there is perfection in imperfection.
No, the relief was in the fact that at that moment in time, we didn’t have any additional stress beyond normal newborn stuff. Even three years later, we are acutely aware that things could change in an instant, though. Illnesses happens. Accidents happen. Crimes even happen. There are absolutely no guarantees.
But knowing that firsthand is what makes the small victories, like perfect APGAR scores and testing negative for genetic abnormalities, a little sweeter.
It’s what makes days like today when all three of my kids, my husband, and our closest friends are celebrating the milestones of our children, that much more special.
It’s what makes the drive to the nearest Culver’s for frozen yogurt because my husband is a sucker for making his little girl happy, that much more fun.
Life has no guarantees. But if you can look beyond that to find the joy, even through the difficulties, well… it can be pretty sweet. Some might even call it amazing.
I know I do.
Interested in learning more about Julie?
Her story is coming soon in a #MyNewLife Young Adult Romantic Comedy!