All-day baseball tournaments are the jam, part II.
jam: [jam] verb, jam-med, jam-ming. noun, as in mom's raspberry-huckleberry jam
(AFTER soccer games, drive 45 minutes to sports complex, realize as I entered parking lot that Emma had somehow forgotten her shoes during snack replenishment at home, track down Travis to get key to his car to borrow Jordan's shoes rather than buying a new pair, wake up Eli from 20 minute car-nap, unload stroller/snacks-to-feed-an-army/blankets/bleacher survival kit, hang with Flames parents, watch Halle + Emma cajole other moms into snack bar treats, watch Halle + Emma play in mud, apply sunscreen, act like I know what is going on in the game, cheer for son, tape a jammed finger of player #7, watch three fights erupt between softball players* on neighboring fields, visit porta-potty 5 times, pretend I am in control of my children, pry empty peanut shells from Eli's hands, think of things I should be doing at home, watch game #2, lose feeling in right arm from holding Eli for 4+ hours, cheer for two victories, pack up and load car with dusty/muddy/sticky children, drive past rowdy tailgating softball players*, drive 45 minutes home, get phone call from Travis wondering where his key is???, refrain from swearing, drive 45 minutes BACK to fields, past extremely rowdy tailgating softball players*, hand off key, drive 45 minutes BACK home, make barely edible dinner, hose down kids in showers, drop from total exhaustion.) THAT is what the jam is all about.
softball players*: middle-aged men wearing tight baseball pants and strategically cut-off shirts who are out to reclaim the glory days while drinking a pint or two every inning and then carousing with teammates and sassy biker girls in the parking lot afterwards.
**Thank you to those who have encouraged and convinced me that these will be great memories in the future, that even though the yardwork and weekend projects are not getting done........it will be okay and my kids will remember that I supported them in their efforts.
7 comments:
You are a trooper. What a long, a lot of time in the car, a lot of time watching sports day :)
That's ALOT of "jam"! Maybe next time you could take a little "me" time to hang out with the sassy biker girls and glory-day-seeking softball players. I know you stare longingly as you drive by.
As a mother of 4 I feel your pain. Some days I wish I could clock out for a lunch break. (see bubble story on my blog) Hang in there only 15 years to go!
Sharese, some day I am going to become an amazing supportive mother like you - who happily does all these wonderful things for her children and never complains. You are the Jam Queen! Keep up the good work my friend.
Sharese, you are the jam. I've heard Ashley use this term to you, and I had no idea what it meant until now :-) You are amazing.
Well, that little guy of yours is SO cute. At least you have him to look at while you run around, right?
You've gotta be the busiest mom I know with all the game and stuff! Super mom. I sure wish we lived closer. Any chance of moving to Utah?
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