my boyfriend's back

sean's back, his trip was "awesome", and bella remembered who he was. I'm sure that he'll tell you all about it when he goes to work this weekend.

yesterday was trent's first baseball game of the season - which also meant that I wasn't able to take a nap. I got home, we quickly ate some "food" (consisting of hot pockets and steamed broccoli. because if you have steamed broccoli with something, it makes it a meal.) and then we had to hightail it to the field. but because it was like 20 degrees (maybe like 55 or something) we had to bundle up. me, I had on long johns and sweats, 2 sweatshirts over my long sleeved t shirt, and thick socks under my lands end boots. and the scarf I stole from someone who left it behind at nicole and mark's house after their wedding. (is it stealing if they left it behind?) sean just put on jeans and a coat, because he's rugged. and then there was bella. thick sock-like tights, long sleeved onesie (that's for you, theresa!), jlo jogging suit, socks, red shoes, sweater, winter hat, mittens, and a big fleece blanket. sean commented that she looked like maggie simpson when she wears her star suit.

unfortunately, trent's team lost. and unfortunately, when brett (trent's dad and coach) picked his kids in the draft, he had no idea who any of them were. and of course no one helped him. consequently, if there are any children under the average height for 11 and 12 year olds, we have them on our team. I looked over at the green team (we are purple) and some of those kids looked bigger than trent if he were sitting on my shoulders.

so trent's team lost - and lost big time. I think it's going to be a long season. and one in which I am probably going to lose it a few times. being at your child's sporting event is both harrowing and exhilirating. you get to watch them do some great things and know that you contributed to their genetic makeup. that's exhilirating. especially if they do lots of great things. and then you get to watch them do bad things and you want to go out and hug them and you can't. that's harrowing. and then there's the completely crappy stuff about watching your kid's games - other parents. oh how I hate other parents.

they come in a few varieties. some overlap into more than one category. but there are very few of them that I ever meet that I would ever want to have more than a casual acquaintence-ship (is that a word?) with. most, I'd like to throttle.

there's the know-it-all name-droppers who were probably really effing annoying when they were in high school. they know every kid on every team and feel free to talk about them at length to anyone with ears. (how I wish I had no ears sometimes.) this is sometimes good, as in "trent's really fast!", and sometimes bad, as in "his parents are DIVORCED." the thing is, they engage you in stupid conversation that prevents you from watching the game, while somehow they themselves are watching the game. they say things like "did you see the great catch your son just had??" which sucks because a) you were trying to be polite and listen to their inane chatter and you realize they don't give a shit, and b) you just missed a good play that you know your child will be asking you if you saw. these people also claim to know every single rule of baseball, which is total bullshit, and they are almost always women.

there's the clique-ish people who only talk to certain people. they hold seats for these people (fuck you, I brought my own chair, take all the damn bleachers you want) and seem like they are made of wood until the chosen few come along, then they are laughing with abandon. I don't really care about these people - I'm mostly annoyed by them.

there are the stand-alone fathers who sort of mill around, making sure to stand directly in your way when you're sitting in your chair craning to see the batter at home plate. usually this is when your own child is up to bat.

there are the arguers who have nothing positive to say about anything. it could be clear blue skies and 70 degrees and they will find something weather-related to complain about even before the game starts. like there's a breeze. or no breeze. and then it gets worse as soon as the game starts.

there are the trashy people who bring all their 50 million grubby, dirty kids, let them run around throwing dirt at each other and everyone watching the game, while they sit and talk about who they saw at the bar last night and how they wish their kids weren't such total brats. the kids are total brats, but I don't think parents are supposed to say that about them. and they love to flick their cigarette butts ONTO THE FIELD.

there are the over-protective mothers who sit exasperated because their child isn't getting enough play time/is getting too much play time/got yelled at by the coach/the coach ignores/the other kids shun/eats grass/whatever. they may as well have a pad and paper so as not to have to remember all the mental notes they plan to go over with the coach after the game. just write it all down and mail it to him instead. it'll get the same amount accomplished.

and then there are the people that get written about in newspapers - the ones that take the same mental notes as the exasperated mothers, but tend to write them into their memory banks OUT LOUD. and as they get more annoyed, they say them louder and louder and then wind up just making total asses of themselves. or get thrown out. I love when they get thrown out, too. it's excellent. except for the fact that their kids are learning from this. they then begin to act the same way in the dugout, and instead of throwing the kid out, the umpire is forced to take measures against the team as a whole and the coach individually instead.

we had a know-it-all name-dropper and a stand alone father near us the whole game last night. there was a clique on the bench and the other side had 2 trash families, one of which barked whenever they had a good play. (barked, like a dog. so much like a dog that sean and I were trying to figure out where they were hiding it.) bella was well behaved, but cold. she wound up falling asleep toward the end. trent came home in a good mood, which can be rare when he loses. and brett only had to contend with one parent saying her kid sat out an inning when she thought he shouldn't. so it went rather well.

the rest of the season will be spent being annoyed by the other parents, me running to the dugout every few innings to tell brett to calm the hell down, me and brett yelling at trent to not get so upset about everything, and sean only being able to make weekday games. and bella is the wildcard.

it's going to be a looooooooooooong spring. on the upside? trent's an amazing baseball player and I expect that he'll have lots of those exhilirating moments. and I hope I spelled exhilirating right because I've used it several times now.