At 7pm last night we finished up tball practice. We hadn't had dinner, there was a ton of laundry to do, I had homework waiting for me... it was the end of a long day that wrapped up another insanely packed weekend. But as I watched my boy practice I noticed he was a little frustrated. He wanted the ball to come his way, but when it did he had a hard time knowing what to do with it.
"We haven't had the time to practice like we should..." I thought. If it wasn't so late we could stay a few extra minutes...
Practice wrapped up with a group circle, ten tiny hands in, "CUBS!" they all shouted and ran off the field. He gave me his big smile as he came my way, "Did I do good, Mama??"
"You did awesome baby!" I said, thinking I am so ready to go home. But that smile, that desire to play well, I sighed and said "Do you want Mama to throw the ball with you a little more before we go home?"
"Yeah!" then he turned to his coach "Excuse me, Coach? Can I keep practicing with my Mama for a little bit??" He smiled and said sure, giving me the look of a tired parent, understanding the effort to stay on the field.
Henry stood on the pitchers mound, I stood half way to home plate. We stayed there for maybe twenty minutes, just throwing the ball back and forth. Him getting better and better with every single throw.
"Hey Mama, let's pretend people are watching and cheering, okay?"
"Sure baby, that sounds fun. Do you want to practice running the bases?"
"Great catch Henry!" that smile...
"What a great throw!" I swear I can see the confidence in him grow.
"I am getting pretty good, right Mama??"
"Yes baby, you are great!"
I was about to call it a day when he looked at me and said "Hey Mama. I really, REALLY love you."
"Oh buddy. I love you too. So so much."
"Mama, I love you the whole number."
We ended up picking up a pizza for dinner instead of cooking. Totally worth it.