Carrie insists on riding with me in the roadster. Here she is flipping her gansta signs:
And to the park we go.
Her crew of fans arrive:Along with the"mom":
and the warm up begins but first a glimpse of Carrie in her gangsta clothes. Disregard the braids and the bows...which are verrrrrrrry UNgangsta like:
and to the field she goes for warm up:
And then the game begins. Carrie heads for the dug out where her guide there lines them up to head for the batter's mound. Carrie is up to bat first. She swings and connects with the ball and it sails forward. Any amount of "forward" motion is considered a good ball. Carrie stands and watches as the ball sails through the air then hits the ground where it rolls along until one of the children on the other team picks it up. Carrie is still standing on home plate.
I am outside the wire fence and I'm screaming "RUN Carrie, RUN". She turns to look at me and at that moment the coach on home plate gently turns her shoulders and points her to first base while telling her to "RUN! Carrie, RUN!" and away she goes. From the time she swung at that ball until the time she actually picked up those pink Nike clad feet and headed for second base, we could have all taken a lunch break. The child needs more instruction I fear.
Now she stands on second base and the coach there she chats up. She is facing him and having a wonderful conversation. I can't hear what she is saying but I can see her little hands flutter around punctuating what she is saying. The ball is hit by the next child at bat and Carrie is clueless. Soon that child arrives at first base and the coach realizes that Carrie hasn't moved on to second base and at that time he turns her to second base and yells "Run Carrie, Run". She is such a well trained child. She doesn't move until she gets that green light and in this case it's someone screaming "Run, Carrie, Run!"
I'm not hoarse from screaming. The daughter trys to tell me there are 13 coaches on the field and to this I say, "they don't understand that she doesn't know what she is supposed to be doing and she needs ME to tell her to RUN!". I notice the daughter moves quietly to the other side of the field. Since I was the only one screaming, I'm assuming she was a bit embarrassed.
After all the children had their turn at the bat, it was Carrie's team's turn to be in the outfield and that's where they placed Carrie. She is facing the field of trees watching who knows what. I'm screaming at her to watch the ball. She kicks some dirt around, does a couple of dance steps, twirls and curtseys and does some mouth synching to some tune flitting through her brain. Balls are flying by her and occasionally she will look up to watch one move by while keeping her feet planted firmly in place.
Eventually I get up and move around the field and plant myself behind her. I whisper, "Carrie, watch the ball." She blows me a kiss and winks. "Carrie", I say, "watch the ball and when it comes this way, run and pick it up."
She gets it. Here she is, braids and all and she is actually facing in the correct direction. She is watching the ball and the batter. Now she knows what she is supposed to do. The ball heads her direction but lands at some chairs occupied by parents. She stands and looks and later when I asked why she didn't run over and get the ball she says "Nana, you know I'm not supposed to go close to people I don't know."
"Yeah, Carrie, I remember those instructions." We might need a little more work on this part of the game.
Somewhere before this game ended, the coach walks up to the wire fence and asks "Who is Carrie's mom?" None of us made a move to answer. It took a moment for April to confess. The coach had a message. "Ya know" she said, "Carrie asked her what the big deal was with this game. What's the fun part?"
Yep, everybody knows who Carrie is now. A low profile is not programmed in to anyone in this family. We're gonna play it by ear. I'll be the one standing behind Carrie giving instructions.