Indoor soccer is over.

On the one foot, I’m glad. Our Sundays are our own again. I can stop being frustrated with the crazy awful lighting in that particular gymnasium (perhaps the worst I’ve ever shot). Kids can stop hacking and coughing on my kids one less day per week.

On the other foot, they had a good time.

LittleBrother learned a lot… not exactly about soccer, but about being a part of something, listening to a coach and not always getting to be the star (or, ever kicking the ball…). BigBrother learned to work better with teammates and really looked out for his brother. And they had a lot of fun.

Plus, LittleBrother finally got to do something BigBrother did. And he got his very own trophy… which he kinda loves, if you couldn’t tell.

We only have a couple weeks off before t-ball starts. At least it will be outdoors!

We were once again blessed with great coaches. T-ball is for ages three to six in our area which, if you know kids, involves a wide range of physical ability, emotional readiness and other such issues. And when I say wide range I mean a chasm of differences were present in our teammates. Our coaches understood this fact and did a wonderful job at corraling, encouraging, teaching and making sure that the game remained fun. They did a great job at making sure the best and fastest players weren’t the only one getting time fielding the ball. In fact, in one game where BigBrother was doing exceptionally well, he did handed the ball that he had just fielded over to a girl who hadn’t had a chance to throw it to first base yet. Heart-swelling moment.

As per usual, there were some issues. The YMCA remains less than organized. The seven o’clock game is late for my boys and some of our other teammates. Less smoking is good but, really, I’d prefer no smoking at a t-ball game. In fact, while photographing one of the high school girls’ game, I saw that they have a no smoking sign at their field. It’s just common sense. We did get rid of some issues though: no mean kid that taunted BigBrother this year and, wait for it, no mean parents. Really, this was almost the perfect year.

As evidenced by this smile on the field:

Except for that one time that BigBrother took a ball to the chest.

He was okay. Just kind of stunned. It was like the time that he took the soccer ball straight to his leg in soccer this past winter. Those two experiences were more of a, “Wait, the ball can actually hurt me,” than true injuries. Still, the look on his face was quite sad.

The best part of the season was his number. He was number 15, the last number on our team. Every other game, he would either bat first or last. When he would bat last, they would call, “LAST BATTER,” and then BigBrother would get to round the bases after he hit the ball. Home run! Twice a game! Every other game! And the crowd goes wild! Or at least we did.

What wasn’t an issue at the beginning of the season slowly began to become an issue. LittleBrother was too young to play this season. He started out not really minding. We always took his glove and played catch on the sidelines. Eventually, he started asking to play, and, for awhile at least, he was content when we said he could play next year. In fact, the season ended on a decent note. No big fits. No whining. No running onto the field. I was pleased. Then we went to the pizza party where they received their trophies and LittleBrother lost it. “I want a trophy, TOOOOO.” I know it could have been much worse, but I still felt a little bit sorry for him. And my ear drums at that point.

Will we play t-ball next year? Yes. Am I looking forward to paying full price for two children as there’s no point in a five year old having a membership at the YMCA just to get the reduced price? (The yearly expenditure would equal the amount of difference between the two costs.) No. I’ll have to budget wisely in the month or so leading up to sign ups to make sure I can afford to send them both out on the field. I expect that next year should bring about some interesting sibling issues on the field.

I’m glad he played this year. I’m proud of what he accomplished.

I almost don’t know what to do with my Thursday night now. Except see Eclipse.

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[For more Wordless Wednesday, visit Life Down Our Lane.]

(I’m sure I’ll talk more about this in the coming weeks. This was from his first game.)

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For more Wordless Wednesday, visit 5 Minutes for Mom.

He’s grown so much in six months. During that time, he really popped out of his shell. I attribute some of that to his fabulous first year of preschool experience. I think a nod can be given to basketball as well. And, of course, the constant prodding encouragement to actually speak to people when spoken to by us, the parents, might also have finally gotten through his thick skull (brought to you by the genetics of Yours Truly). Whatever the case, he is loving t-ball. He looks forward to games. He is devastated when a thunderstorm results in the cancellation of said game. We read Froggy Plays T-ball all day on game days. And he generally has a great time.

He has learned to run the bases, though he prefers if the coach helping him bat runs with him to first base. He generally runs to second, third and home on his own though one time he forgot to run to second. He doesn’t swing the bat very hard but, again, with patient coaches, he’s helped along with nice words and instruction. Eventually, he gets out of the initial foul ball territory and is quite proud when he does! As for fielding, our team has taken a different approach than some of the other teams. Someone is always on first base. The rest of the team is split into two lines where the second baseman and shortstop would stand. The two kids who are the front of the line with each batter are then allowed to field the ball. After that batter, the go to the back of the line (where BigBrother chest bumps with his friends and makes laser sounds, of course). BigBrother has actually started running after the ball and, on occasion, comes up with it. He knows to throw to first, though he’s a bit slow about it (which does not result in yelling by the coaches, by the way). He’s always so proud. So are we! I love that the coaches approach fielding in this manner because it gives everyone a chance to touch the ball and avoids the infamous T-ball Dog Pile every time someone hits the ball. Smart coaches we have! And, of course, after each game, they get a snack.

And, so, in short, BigBrother is having a fabulous time playing t-ball. (And learning!)

There are some issues, of course, but they have little to do with BigBrother, the coaches, the YMCA or even ourselves. I’m learning, far too quickly for my liking, that not everyone is in the game for the fun of it nor do people care about how the decisions they make affect other people. But that’s a different post for another week. Today we are just happy that things are going so well!

Here’s a video from BigBrother’s first ever t-ball game (early May 2009) as he crosses the plate after his first time around the bases. (Warning: Goodness, I am loud. Turn down your volume for Pete’s sake.)

He’s always so proud when he crosses home plate now (which he touches without (loud?) encouragement from us). He also runs a little faster now. Hustling is not in his vocabulary unless he is playing Mr. Incredible in the back yard.

In the end, we’ll just continue to do what we do: encourage BigBrother to have fun, look at the ball and listen to his coaches. We’re really excited that, except for that one time when he told his coach that he’d just “wait right here” on the sidelines when it was their turn on the field, we (as his parents) haven’t had to actively push him onto the field or really do much of anything. (We had to stand on one end of the court in basketball because he was unsure of how or why he should listen to coaches who were, in essence, strangers.) Despite the not-yet-mentioned issues, we’re really enjoying watching him play his games… simply because he’s enjoying playing his games. I think he’ll be devastated when the season is over.

Looks like we’ll be playing t-ball in the yard all summer. Anybody up for a game?

I’m pleased with our coaches and team thus far. Much like our basketball experience, our coaches understand that children in the 3-6 year age range don’t quite understand the concept of t-ball/baseball. Our team is a good mix of first year players and a few kids who have played before. Basically, it’s an introduction to listening to someone else and teamwork is what we’re going for along with some fun and cute memories.

Okay, mainly the cute memories. Like the time my cousin was running to second base but a train started to pass the field. So he just stopped to watch it pass. Stuff like that is priceless stuff to tell the boys’ future spouses. Or the internet. Right?

However, I’m not particularly pleased with some things going on in the “league” right now. My friend’s daughter is on a different team. She’s three years and four months old. Her team is full of five and six year old boys. That’s not the problem though one could argue that they could have better placed children on teams. The problem is the coach. As they had to reschedule the first practice due to weather (oh, Spring), her husband who had been set to be an assistant coach, couldn’t attend due to work. My friend went with intention of helping in place of her husband. Having played softball all through school and loving the sport in general, she felt qualified to do so. When asked where her husband was, she informed the coach that she would be helping today in place of her husband due to the schedule change. The coach looked at her and said, “I really wanted a man.”

What?

That man is lucky he didn’t say those words to me. I’ve actually had a hard time not calling the YMCA for my friend and launching into a tirade. I don’t quite understand, however, what caused this issue. The teams are co-ed. There are women coaches on other teams. It’s not as if this a professional, touring t-ball team with a big “NO GIRLS ALLOWED” sign hanging on the field fence. It’s a YMCA league for kids who are three to six years of age. Boys. Girls. Both. In the end, everyone wins as they all get trophies. Why did he have to play the gender card? Why can’t woman coach? Why did he think he could get away with saying that?

Of course, my friend then had issues as her daughter, who was born premature, is the smallest three year old in our entire preschool. So, it would follow that she’s one of the smaller three year old kiddos most people come in contact with. She then had parents of the boys on the team saying things like, “That girl isn’t even old enough to play!” I swear, if I would have been my friend that day, I would have blown up, verbally assaulted everyone and then my child would never have been welcome in YMCA sports ever again. Perhaps it’s lucky that it was my friend and not me.

And so, some tips to pass on so you don’t anger mothers like me in the future:

1. If you’re a parent of a child on the older side of the age range, do not make comments about the size or age of the smaller, younger players. I don’t know many parents that would enroll their one year old children in t-ball. Assume that the child is old enough to play if she’s present.

2. If you’re a coach, don’t be a sexist pig. That little girl deserves a right to have a coach who is going to treat her as if she can play just as well as those little boys. She deserves to believe that she can do whatever they can do. And if you treat her mother like she’s “less than” you just because she doesn’t have the same genitalia, you’re cheating her out of that experience. You can tell me that experiences in t-ball don’t matter and I’ll counter with, “Then why the over-dramatic need to win?”

3. For Pete’s sake, remember that it’s just t-ball. Let the kids have fun. Leave your competitive spirit for arguing who is going to win on American Idol. Don’t bring it to the t-ball field. Let them be children. Let them have fun.

It really doesn’t seem all that hard, does it? Shouldn’t organized sports at this age be about laughter, learning and ice cream after the game? Shouldn’t we be encouraging our children to learn about fair play instead of forcing them to win at all costs? Shouldn’t we be nice to each other?

Or am I off in right field picking dandelions by myself?

Whatever the case, I hope BigBrother’s team (The Bees!) beats that coach’s team into the ground. Oh, wait, I just played into the competitive spirit, didn’t I? Will it make it better if I make enough cookies for both teams to have afterward? It will? Okay. I’ll do that.

Here’s hoping that our season is fun for all. Including my friend’s daughter’s team.

Some of my favorite things about involving BigBrother in “organized” sports this year.

1. Where we live, winter happens. Because of that, some of our exercising ability (read: way to run off energy) is diminished. While we still have dance parties inside and the tickle monster chases us around, there’s no real opportunity for legitimate, long-stride running. Basketball provided that opportunity.

2. He learned to listen to someone else! Granted, he listens to his teachers at preschool but watching him listen to his coaches was a good experience. He was unsure of why he should listen to those four men at first but, by the end, he really liked his coaches.

3. He made new friends. Only one kid on the team was from his class at preschool. Therefore he met new kids and interacted with them during the games. One older kid took a special liking to him and always made sure he got the ball.

4. He was always so proud. The looks on his face at this last game after his coach held him up to dunk and after he received his trophy were worth all of the initial uncertainty. He was so proud. That, in turn, made me so proud.

There were some negatives, of course.

1. The parents. Unfortunately, if our kids are going to be involved in anything from art to chess club to sports to Boy Scouts to church programs, we’ll have to deal with some over-zealous parents. I know this. But I also know that the one offending parent in question is lucky that I had to miss one game due to my chorale practice and that only my mother-in-law witnessed the negativity. Apparently some over-zealous schmuck was complaining that the three year old teammates “brought the team down.” My mother-in-law replied with “they’re three, they’re learning” and left it at that. I would have given him a polite earful. So, he’s lucky. I know we’ll have to deal with more parents like him who think that they’re child is the next superstar of whatever we’re doing that day. (I’m not blind. BigBrother may have had lots of fun but as of yet does not show remarkable basketball ability. He did learn about the game, however, so I’m pleased.)

2. That game I had to miss due to a mandatory choreography session with my chorale made me feel horrible. I should also probably call my mother and apologize for being so mad at her for missing my Christmas concert during my senior year due to some work issues. I know that either FireDad or I will have to miss games or shows or debates or what-have-you here and there. But it sure did make me feel rather crappy.

3. Next year, LittleBrother won’t likely be so content to stand on the sidelines and watch. He also won’t be old enough to play. I have a slight amount of dread about chasing him around while trying to pay attention to what BigBrother is doing on the court. Yikes.

In the end, the negatives were more about me and less about BigBrother. He never heard the nasty parent. He didn’t care that I missed his game. And he really doesn’t nee dto worry about the parenting issues I may or may not have with having children two years apart. In the end, he got over his initial fear. He had a good time. And if you don’t believe me, listen to this video. (Ignore LittleBrother’s name.)

I’d say that he had a great experience. Even if he does talk with his hands like… me.

We have a month off before t-ball begins. I’m hoping that the program is handled similarly and that whatever coaches he ends up with are as wonderful with young children as his first coaches were. Hopefully he learns how to smile for his sports pictures before then…

I mean, sure, FireDad is not smiling in any of his sports pictures. But still. Of course, to me, this is the best basketball picture ever. (To boot, we were only charged $10 and given a CD with pictures so we could print at will. YMCA wins again.) What a great first experience all around!

BigBrother fell into the “Itty Bitty” age group of three to five years old. As he had never experienced anything like this (structured game type setting), we began talking about it pretty early on. For Christmas, my parents got him a Little Tikes basketball hoop that we put up in the playroom (and that will move outside once this winter ick passes). The week leading up to his first practice, we talked it up and really drove home how fun it is to play a baksetball game with other kids.

The problem wasn’t with his excitement level. The problem was with the two weeks of practice (two 45 minute sessions on a Saturday). All 50 kids in his age group were in the gym at the same time. At the beginning, they all sat in a circle and stood to stretch. That was met with tears the first week. When they split them in half (which was still 25 kids!) for passing and shooting instruction, he was still overwhelmed that first week. In fact, the second week, while better, was still overwhelming for him.

We were beginning to doubt that he was ready for something of this structure. He loved his new basketball shoes and his water bottle. And he always ended the day with a smile on his face. But he just seemed overwhelmed. Still, we thought that maybe the difference of having only a team’s worth of kids at one time would make the difference and, so, on Saturday, we left the house for his first game. He seemed unsure but came along without tears.

He stood around for a bit, looking at the other kids. I helped him remember how to dribble. He passed with another child for awhile. A five year old girl came up to me and said, “Does he know how to play basketball” with a mouthful of attitude. I said, “Well, he’s only three,” with a smile on my face. She then informed us that she was the biggest and the “bestest” on the team. I just smiled and went back to helping BigBrother with his dribbling. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed!

Then the whistle blew.

They originally were going to put him on the court first but decided he could sit and watch for a few rotations first. (There were eight kids so three got to sit at any given time.) When it was finally his time, he shocked everyone and got right into it. The two times that he actually had the ball, he wasn’t really sure what to do but he was encouraged by his coaches to pass or shoot. They gave him time instead of stripping it away and giving it to one of the more learned kids. In fact, for the whole game, the coaches were very encouraging to all of the children (even their own). The coach on the bench was always sure to tell the kids that they did a great job. And afterward, the kids slapped high fives.

And BigBrother afterward? Was so excited that he could barely contain himself. He asked me today if he could play another basketball game. He can’t wait until his next game (which I don’t have the heart to tell him won’t be this coming weekend because of a gymnastics meet in the gym). FireDad and I are very relieved. If the game had ended in total failure and/or tears, we likely wouldn’t have continued on with the season. But seeing how happy he was and knowing that he got some great exercise and learning done in the process, we are pleased with how this has gone.

While I’m sure non-YMCA programs are just as good, I have a feeling that this one is just right for BigBrother. It’s more about learning about teamwork and fun than the act of winning. One little boy, who mouthed off to the five-year-old-girl earlier, mentioned something about being a loser and was told that no one who tries is a loser. And that’s a good lesson to learn. We’ve also learned as parents to go at an experience like this with an attitude of fun, acknowledge their fears and to allow them some space to watch and make their own decision.

I mean, come on. Look at this face (taken immediately after the game).

Yes, I think that we made the right decision.