The Dug Out Mom Woes

We loaded up in the car and headed for the ball field last evening. Ted and Carrie were occupying the back seat along with the cold drinks I had packed and a few snacks in the red canvas bag. Carrie and I had made a quick trip to Walmart and rushed in to get her a Play Doh thing she had been promised. I wasn't sure we had time to do this and not be late for her game but she was adamant about doing as I promised so we hurried.
While there, I found a pink bat and a pink helmet. She already had a bat but not a pink one.

We hurried to the checkout stand while she clutched her Play Doh Cake Making toy which I had already told her she couldn't open until after the game. She knows her mother doesn't allow it in her house so she made sure she extracted a promise to come home with me after the game so she could play with it. "Ok, Ok, Carrie, just hurry. We have to get to your house to get changed into your ball clothes." I'm getting a little stressed now. I hate to be late and teaching her to get to events on time is done by "doing".

We barreled into her house and her mother slipped her into her t shirt and shorts, shoes laced and helmet and bat in hand we raced to the car. We arrived in plenty of time. We were the first ones there so Ted and Carrie hit the field to practice some batting. Later, I went into the field with her for some pitching practice. I squealed like a little girl. Baseball is not my thing. I do not like to have a hard ball hurtling toward my face or any part of my body. Carrie would wind up and whale that ball toward me. After one catch which left my hand stinging, I made sure I didn't do that again. I dodged and ducked, squealed and ran when she would pitch it to me. Of course this set Carrie off in a fit of giggles. I explained to her..she was the one that was learning to "catch" ..not ME.
Soon Shane showed up and took over this part of her learning. I was grateful, relieved and on the bench in seconds.

As soon as the other children arrived, the coach looked over the seated parents and said "Who wants to be "dug out Mom"?  I quietly sat and watched and waited.
I was appalled when my daughter offered my services. Have I mentioned I am clueless when it comes to baseball? I don't know what any of the terms mean, positions played, or how they keep score.

I headed for the little cage where the players waited. The coach was very sweet. She instructed me that when they were batting, to line them up in order of the sheet of paper she handed me and make sure they had their helmets and bats. Sounds real easy doesn't it?
Try it with 10 little 5yr olds that do not stay seated in the order to which I placed them. Try helping them find the right bat, the right helmet and then keeping them in order of going on the field. Some ran off to talk to mom, some had to go potty and some were looking for their water or sport drink. Gloves were hidden beneath the bench, the wrong child would end up with the wrong helmet causing the other child to wail or whine and on top of all that, the sound of metal bats clinking on the concrete floor of the dug out was enough to set my teeth on edge.

I had to ask the coach once again before the game started "Now when do they wear the helmets?" She laughed and said "Just remember, 'helmets and bats' go together when they are batting. Gloves in the outfield." She laughed as she said "And that box you are in with the kids is called the dug out."

"Funny girl." I said to her as she laughed while going back on the field.

I have a plan. The next game, I will arrive alone and fashionably late. By the time I get here, someone else will be the "dug out Mom" and I'll get to actually watch the game!

After the game, the Play Doh Experience: