Baseball season is in full swing. Our boys are playing this spring with our seven-year old on a coach pitch team and our four-year old on a t-ball team. Uniforms were passed out last week from their hats to their socks - just in time for opening day last Saturday. In this area, people don't mess around when it comes to baseball. They have an opening game day parade, opening game day ceremonies and crowds of families and friends gather to celebrate. The parade was something. Our three year old little girl stood on the sidewalk in shock and disbelief as candy was magically thrown like pockets of rain. When our son's float passed we all cheered and shouted. There was something about seeing the boys in the parade that made our hearts swell. Maybe it was the nostalgia from our own childhood memories or maybe it was the way they each tried so hard to get a fist full of candy thrown right to their baby sister...I don't know. The feeling carried over to their opening games though. It was great to see them play with their teams dressed in full uniform. Our four year old could all but hold his pants up he was so cute and tiny. Our seven year-old played in his very first coach pitch game. The first time he went to bat he swung and hit the ball but fouled out. A second and third swing and a miss. With his head down he carried his bat back to the dugout. My heart sank for him and I had an overwhelming pull to go hug him even though I knew he was too old for that in front of his team mates. The next time he went to bat he stood ready as the pitch was thrown. Strike. Another pitch, another strike...then suddenly...bam. On the third pitch he hit the ball with a heavy thud and took off running. I was already holding onto the fence when he nailed it and I couldn't help myself from jumping up and down screaming. Some of the moms behind me began to giggle and I laughed explaining how that was his first hit in a game. I don't know how to define that feeling of pride and happiness even though I know they're only kids. No matter how young or old they are though, I think that feeling will always remain. As he stood on base getting ready to run from the next batter he looked over at me and smiled. I smiled back and waved trying not to let my eyes water. Under my breath though I whispered, "That's my baby" making sure that none of his friends could hear. :)
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Adam and Bea live in North Carolina with their three boys and a girl, Christian 13, Ethan 12, Preston 9 and Lauren Elizabeth 8 years old.