Sometimes, they change the game without telling you: How to find your new spot in the line-up

I LOVE baseball. I'm no expert, but I love it anyway. We went to a ballgame the other night and I observed that, as the game wore on, there were times when it seemed like the players instinctively knew what to do, without constant input from the coach, or from the batterymen.  They just watched each other, learned from the game even as they were playing it, and managed to play successfully.  Which, of course, got me to thinking...

Somehow, at some point, I seem to have lost my ranking with some of my players here on the home team. I used to be the first stop on the path to wellness: Big news to share? Call mom. Just got home? Find mom. Can't locate the crackers? Ask mom. Boo boo? Lost retainer? Broken heart? Mom. Mom. Mom. I'll admit, I have enjoyed that.  I guess that I've always taken for granted that my position in the lives of my children would always remain the same...they'd always want me crouching behind home plate~watching the field, calling the game, catching whatever they threw, playing defense on behalf of us all ...you know, important, "woman-behind-the scenes" stuff.   Let us not forget:  I am the mom, here; this is what I've been training for.  However, I never prepared myself for the day when I'd be sent out into the field; worse still, there are days when I think that I've been relegated to bench warmer.

I can't help but take this change personally.  I mean, I used to get called on to play in every game!  I'm not sure anymore...what is my current position?  I can't be traded, can I?  What can I do to improve my game?  These are the worries that keep me awake, running the reels of past games, trying to figure out where I went wrong.

Then one day, after a particularly hideous bout of "Why doesn't she miss me," I received a card from my daughter, who is living in another country for awhile.  I~briefly~considered not reading it right away...I had already sent off (and regretted) a particularly pouty email message to my girl, grappling with myself, I suppose, to retain some sort of hold on "the way things were," and I was not entirely convinced that I cared to "catch" whatever she was lobbing into home, at that particular moment.  After all, in six weeks, that child has only admitted to missing me one time!!!  What if that statistic is right?  Of course, my resolve lasted all of 30 nanoseconds, and so I read, and was taught.

I learned, with swelling pride, that my kiddo has grown into a seasoned player, in her own right.  She wrote that, because of what her father and I have tried to teach her, she feels well-equipped (!).  She acknowledged how difficult it has been for me to "let her go," yet she reminded me that "growing up doesn't and has never meant growing apart..." that she will "always need me, just differently."  She concluded her message of faith~her faith in my being able to gracefully accept this newest inning~with these words:  "I'll always rely on you, but the training wheels are off.  So, my dearest mother, let your heart rest, be calm and try not to worry so much.  You showed me how to walk.  Now I can run too, so let me.  Now it's my turn to use what you've shown me, to run full speed ahead.  For every step I take, you're always one ahead, paving the path."

Wow.  How beautiful; what a gift.  I have spent so much time watching her, learning all about her, taking note of her strengths and weaknesses, that it never occurred to me that she has been quietly watching right back, and taking note of me.  She has been in the game the whole time, studying, running drills with me while I wasn't looking, fine-tuning  her own skills, preparing for the day when she, too, might have to "play catcher."

So now, I have to re-examine my own game.  Can I accept my new field position(s)?  I hate to go into anything uninformed, so I did some research.  According to my sources (qcbaseball.com and factexpert.com):  "Infield play is important; to become a great infielder you must possess...ability and quickness, AND have a strong work ethic and the desire to continually improve...you have to move in all directions and field balls hit at various speeds and degrees of difficulty.  Outfielders have a very important role in the performance and success of the team. Especially when players start out young, many of them have a hard time learning how to play...well because there is so much space to work with and the balls seem to be traveling much faster...balls are typically higher in the air, as well, making it harder to know exactly when and where they are going to come down.  Players often have a hard time catching the ball, reacting quickly, and throwing with precision, so having them repeatedly practice...can make a big difference."

 I think I can do this.  I can take on a new position, in fact, it sounds a LOT like why I  wanted to form a team in the first place: I LOVE being a parent. I'm no expert, but I love it anyway, and I guess, in the end, that's why any of us stay in it; not to rise to great heights, or even to win every game.  We stay in the stadium, covered in dust, playing our positions as best we can, inning after inning, simply because we love the game, and we're determined to play until they shut down the lights.