Softball....from a different view.

Man how time flies. I swear I blinked and suddenly this softball season is over. And I have not written about it once! Shameful I tell you.

So far, the season can be summed up in one sentence. What a difference a year makes!

Remember? This was Sydney last year:

Timid, unsure of herself, afraid to swing the bat and barely able to catch a ball. And look at her now:

A lean, mean, Lexington catching machine with plenty of attitude.

But wait! Something else is different this year to. Sometimes....when the catchers gear comes off....she does this:

and I can hardly watch. A mother's nervous system can only take so much. I really have no idea where this child came from.

These girls....my girl...all of them together. Formidable opponents to say the least. With 5 out of the 11 being first timers, they finished the season 13 and 4 with a 3rd place finish out of 12 teams.

Congratulations Lexington Minor girls on a job very well done!

The Coach Pitch Cronicles.

It has been a long time since I have seen anything as amusing as Andrew's first coach pitch game. I constantly have to keep reminding myself that he is only 5 and that, although his attention span runs in spurts of 2.3 seconds, he may someday possess the ability to play like his sister. Behold the play-by-play:

He hit this ball, did a good job I might add, and ran to first base. (Oh, and yes he bats lefty, no he is not left handed and yes he is strange)

The next batter hit the ball and so he ran to second base...

Well, he started too but see then he noticed his friend from preschool standing there in the outfield and decided to stop for a chat. It took a moment for it to sink in that everyone was yelling for him to run to second base. Well, maybe not everyone. Maybe just his picture snapping, psychotic mother. Man that woman is crazy!

Somehow he made it to second but left his friend hanging mid-sentence.

Not really. But he sure looks distraught. Probably because he was cold. We had a strange weather phenomenon late yesterday. It was windy! Who would have thought!

Here is that 2.3 seconds I was talking about. The majority of the time he looked like this:

This is my personal favorite:

And all a mother can say is, at least he is having fun!

The Boy Has Talent.

After five years of sitting on the sidelines impatiently watching his sister kick, score, dribble, slide and swing, no one was looking forward to having their chance in the athletic spotlight more than Andrew. So when the time recently came to sign him up for baseball, Eric and I decided that his talent was soo great that we would skip right over T-ball and go right to Coach Pitch. After watching a couple of their practices, I'm sure the coaches are just waiting to thank me:

I mean, attempting to catch the ball with your butt cheeks is a lost craft.

His unmatched talent is infectious, luring his own teammates close so they can learn his secrets.

I'm all but certain the MLB scouts will be knocking on our door soon.

The Frog Whisperers.

It's no secret. I loath frogs. Any and all frogs. I am an equal opportunity frog hater. So I am certain the powers-at-be knew exactly what they were doing when they sent me this frog loving boy.

Ugh. My skin is crawling just looking at this picture. He was soo proud of himself. And to that I say good for him. As long as he stayed on the other side of the picnic table and I had my zoom lens I could be happy for him.

Along came this whippersnapper with the "not so innocent smile" on her face.

She is Sydney's all creature loving friend, Lauren. She also got way to close to me with one of those frogs. She was the only one who thought she was funny.

She and Andrew were in cahoots together.

Lauren discovered that one of the frogs she and Andrew had caught had been stepped on

**snicker, snicker**

and could not move. She was not laughing anymore. "Melanie, we have to help it." she says. To which I responded, "Ok, go lay it under the tire of my car and I will put it out of it's misery." I was the only one laughing at that. **snicker, snicker**

Lauren sat in the grass for about 15 minutes petting and talking to the injured frog.

Then Sydney came along.

She was mildly concerned but only concerned enough to watch. I taught her right.

Andrew brought sticks to make casts for its legs. Whata guy!

But then it was time to play with the horses and thankfully, the injured frog was put in the bushes and forgotten about.

And no one was happier about that than me! And probably the frog too.

The Wind.

Sydney had two hours of street soccer today. The wind is blowing 35 to 45 mph with higher gusts. The soccer field is a gigantic open field outside the Bloomington airport surrounded by barren farm land. There are NO structures to block the wind.

My plan was to watch from the car. Her coaches moved her group to the far away soccer field. I could not see. I'm certain it was a conspiracy. **Note to self, purchase binoculars during next Walmart trip.**

I left the safety of my car. It took me 15 minutes to walk against the wind to get to her field. It took me another 10 minutes to remove my chair from its bag and wrestle it to the unfolded position. I put the camera on the ground while I wrestled. The camera began to tumbleweed away from me. I let go of the chair to chase the camera. I caught the camera, just in time to see the chair fly by. It took myself and two other people to catch the chair and wrestle it back to the field. I really hate the wind.

I sit and watch the game. Well, I tried too. The wind is blowing my hair in every direction. I feel like I have my own personal tornado overhead.

I tried to take pictures. Every shot either had my hair in it or was blurry. The gusting wind prevented my hands from holding the camera still. This is the only shot I managed:

A self portrait of sorts.

It was the longest two hours of my life. I'm really not certain exactly how much soccer was actually played. I think the kids spent more time chasing the balls that were taken away by the wind. Parents chased the balls too. I did not. I was afraid my chair would fly away again.

She's done. I'm trying to wrestle my chair back into the bag. The wind fills the bag, rips it out of my hands and takes it far, far away. I'm not chasing the bag. No one else did either. I'm certain it is sitting on runway #3 of the Bloomington airport. And I don't really care anymore.

Did I mention that I hate the wind?

"My mom is strange."

I've become very accustomed to Sydney and her friends thinking I am strange for constantly taking pictures. The majority of them have gotten used to seeing me, camera in hand, snapping pictures of just about everything. I have gotten used to their questions "Why are you always taking pictures?" and their comments "Sydney's mom, you are soo strange!" Hell, my own friends think I'm weird sometimes.

I can handle all this. I'm a big girl. I have broad shoulders. And besides, one day when Sydney and her friends are old, they will thank me for taking all those pictures. I am certain of it.


The other day I sat in my car while she was at soccer practice. Her group was at least a soccer field away from where I was sitting so, at full zoom, I figured I was safe from any of them noticing that I was just a snappin away. I uploaded the pictures to my computer and briefly took note of a couple of mediocre shots.


I love the look on her face in this one **snicker, snicker**:

And this one would have been a great action shot had I not cut the top of her head off:

I was really shooting blindly as I was shooting into the late day sun and because the camera was at full zoom, I had to keep the camera perfectly still. I had no way of looking at the display screen to see what I was taking pictures of. I like to refer to this style as Hail Mary Photography.


This was another I took:


They all look cute in their uniforms. I see Sydney in the picture and at second glance I notice she seems to be looking at me. And then I look a little closer and I notice Coach Hottie seems to be looking at me too. So today I cropped and zoomed in on that end of the picture:



Not only are they looking at me, THEY ARE LAUGHING AT ME TOO! I can just imagine what they are saying. Sydney, "My mom is strange." followed by laughter. Coach Hottie, "Yes Sydney, she is." followed by more laughter.


Like I said. I can handle her and her friends laughing at me...no problem. But COACH HOTTIE?? Ugh...

V is for Violin

Andrew's class is learning about the letter "V" this week. The theme of the discussion at the dinner table Monday evening was what "V" item could we find for Andrew to bring for show and tell. Sydney's violin immediately came to mind and we discussed the fact that maybe each of the kids in his class could have a turn plucking a string. Sydney mentioned that not only was V for violin, but V is also for Violinist. To our surprise, she jumped in and volunteered to not only bring her violin to the class for him, but would also play a couple of songs. Andrew's eyes beamed with excitement.


Before school this morning the two went through one of her music books and carefully selected the pieces she would play.


So at 9:00 this morning I signed her out of school. Although she talked to me about being nervous, once she entered the classroom and introduced herself it became perfectly clear that the nerves had exited the building.

She began by naming the different parts of the violin.



Told them about the bow, demonstrated the "bow hold" and then helped Mrs. Polly achieve the "perfect" bow hold.

She played her songs, Old McDonald Had A Farm and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. The children sang along. She played each string and explained what note she was playing.

At the end she allowed each child to pluck a string.



And it is during moments like these, as I sit back in a corner and snap away, that I just can't believe she is only 9. Can't believe that my little girl is beginning to look and act a lot like a young woman.