A Mom Grows Up

"Love is that condition in which the happiness ofupstairs at bedtime, ran quickly and aggressively from
another person is essential to your own." Robert A.base to
HeinleinOur harsh winter appears to have left us forbase as if their little lives depended on it. These same
good-at least untilboys,
November-and the veritable heat wave we'rewho couldn't run a comb through their hair in
experiencing now haspreparation for
left us with a supreme case of Spring Fever. Folkschurch on Sundays, had their heads all figured out with
are outsideperfectly situated caps, proudly worn, as if a badge of
gardening, children are scootering, and shoppersAmerican honor. Some of the boys, having played for
are-oncea couple years, handled the ball with finesse well
again-strolling throughout downtown.And Little Leaguebeyond what one would expect from 8-year-olds.
has officially begun.We are brand new to Little League,Batters hit home-runs, mid-fielders-with mitts facing
my husband and I. We've gotskyward-caught well-hit balls, and little boys, barely able
the soccer thing down pat, and the basketball,to recite their times tables, recited the number of runs
lacrosse, andby each team perfectly.It was with middle-aged
tennis thing, too. But none of our kids have everwisdom that I watched dads shouting out
playedcommands to their sons. "Thumbs up!" or "Steal to
baseball. My oldest expressed interest some tenthird!"
years ago-andscreamed the guys next to me. Still trying to get a
actually played a season's worth of T-ball-but havingbaseball head on my shoulders, I would only humiliate
never beenmyself confessing to you my lack of knowledge of
one to enjoy sitting on hot bleachers whilethe game. Don't get me wrong: when Victor batted a
pregnant-as seemed to be the case every othergreat ground ball, I screamed like every other mom:
Spring-we never particularly encouraged the sport. But"Run...run!" But as an older-O.K., perhaps the
funny how mellow one becomes with the fourth kid.oldest-parent in the stands, I brought not knowledge or
Call it him needing to discover a sport tackled by noexperience to the game. That I certainly didn't possess.
older sibling, call it him trying to carve a unique niche inI brought to this fourth child of mine's game the
the family. or call it late fortysomething parents whoability-finally-to sit and revel in his enjoyment in playing a
are letting the fourth kid practically raise himself: wesport. In learning something new. With no preconceived
have become Little League parents now whether wenotions of how well he should perform. Or how he
like it or not.And what a glorious celebration of thestacked up to other kids his own age. Of how
sport we had this weekend! With temperaturescoordinated or uncoordinated he was. Or of if he'd
soaring into the 60's, blue skies, and none of the rainever be able to get into college on this.I brought to this
we've endured all week, several hundred moms andgame the quiet resignation that this was going
dads arrived at our high school stadium early onto be my life for possibly the next ten Springs. But I
Saturday morning to experience Little League'salso
"Opening Ceremonies." Kids met their coaches andbrought to those bleachers joy previously
team managers on the parking lot ramp to assembleencumbered by baby's
into teams; parents made their way into the stadium,nursing schedules and toddler's nap schedules. Joy
finding shaded bleachers to enjoy quick chats withthat never
neighbors and friends, their early morning Starbucksfully blossomed with my other kids because I was too
and-if they were lucky-a brief read of one section ofbusy for it.This weekend I was able to see it exactly
The New York Times.In true New England small-townfor what it was. And
style, we rose for an invocationallow it to take hold of me. Exactly how it was
led by a local minister, patriotically recited the Pledgesupposed to.I brought to my other kids' sporting events
ofexhaustion,
Allegiance, and stood awestruck as a Little Leaguefrustration, and apprehension. But for this fourth and
mom sang oneyoungest,
of the most magnificent renditions of the NationalI was able to bring pure unadulterated delight. And
anthem I'dthat, for me, is growth.Carolina Fernandez earned an
ever heard. All in the name of America's favoriteM.B.A. and worked at IBM and as a stockbroker at
pastime.Teams paraded onto the field, one by one,Merrill Lynch before coming home to work as a wife
with coaches' andand mother of four. She totally re-invented herself
managers' names announced via megaphone, kidsalong the way. Strong convictions were born about the
waving to moms androle of the arts in child development; ten years of
dads in the stands, and parents cheering wildly forhomeschooling and raising four kids provide fertile soil
their hometown-business-sponsored-kid's team.But iffor devising creative parenting strategies. These are
the kids were cute at the kick-off, they were utterlyplayed out in ROCKET MOM! 7 Strategies To Blast
adorable at their games. These little boys, unable toYou Into Brilliance. It is widely available online, in
runbookstores or through 888-476-2493.