Safe at Home

My computer faces a window that looks out into our backyard.

At this moment, my husband is playing baseball with our two boys. 1B has a baseball mitt on his hand and is making running catches. 2B is swinging vigorously at the pitches his dad throws his way.

Yesterday when I got home from work, the boys excitedly showed me the new bases they bought at Play it Again Sports. The new mitt. The new soft baseballs (10 in a box!). The new bat.

The men in my family play baseball at any chance they can take. The rain lets up for a second and they are out there. Always, my husband is out there. Whether or not he has paperwork to do, whether or not he wants to sit and read the newspaper. He is out there even though his hip kills him most of the time. He is out there pitching, teaching baseball skills, teaching how to be a good sport. How to be kind.

I have absolutely no practice in this kind of parenting. I didn't play ball with my dad. I was just enough older than my little brother, that I never really saw him play ball nor did I ever play ball with him.

In this way, the life my boys lead is very different from my childhood.

They write stories in school about playing baseball with their dad. They draw pictures of them all out in the field together.

Husband took baby girl out there today. He tossed a few balls to 1B while holding little plum. He lifted her in the air until she giggled. When he brought her inside, he was beaming. "She loves it outside," he told me.

Part of me thinks I should be out there too. A baseball family.

Yet another part of me loves this time that they are out there so that I can get stuff done.

It is going to turn dark and if tonight is like the other nights, they won't come in until the very last bit of light is gone from the sky. Even then, the outside lights get turned on to squeeze more playing time into the day.

When I was a little girl, I could never have imagined mothering two boys. I never imagined looking out the window to watch father/son bonding. It is so new to me it sometimes seems unreal this life I've happened into.

Me, looking outside, watching my boys slide safely home.