The greatest day EVER

The boys are curled up on the couch. Dad is slumped in a chair. And here I am.

Exhaustion has silenced us -- though we are all quietly proud of the marathon of youth sporting events that occurred today.

We are in the youth sports no-man's land zone: one sport hasn't ended, but another has begun.

Hello baseball! Scooch over basketball, gotta make room...

Jack woke up at 4 a.m. at the prospect of this day.

Neil and I left the house at 7:15 a.m. to make his 8 a.m. basketball game (gotta be there a half hour early, don'tcha know). It was his last game (several assists, some seriously good defense and a layup that was beautiful).

After basketball, we met Jack and Dean at the baseball field. Jack's game started at 9 a.m. Jack pitched three innings (9 strikeouts, and yes, I am bragging but I gave birth to him). Double A baseball is all about stealing. Lots and lots of stolen bases.

Jack's game ended at 11 a.m., just in time for Neil's end-of-the-basketball-season party. Pizza for everyone!

Neil got a pizza, trophy and some junk from the little vending machines. Life is good.

Then it was off to Neil's 1 p.m. baseball game (gotta be there a half hour early of course!). Rookie league is fun. It's machine-pitched baseball. I forgot how long Rookie games are... everyone bats, everyone goes around the bases, most innings are called because of the maximum number of runs per team... It takes a loooooong time.

But hey, we had time. Just enough time to run home, let the dogs out to run for a bit and get ready for Jack's 5 p.m. basketball game.

A good game of basketball too. You don't have to read this, but just for the Yerem family history books... Jack had three baskets, 4 assists and he was a defensive machine. He also took a shot right in the face, right to the brand new glasses on his face. Those of you who wear glasses can feel his pain. Those of you who have to pay for your kids' glasses can feel my pain. Mom had a minor heart attack. The sports goggles will be in next week.

And so ends the GREATEST SPORTS DAY EVER -- according to my sons...

Suburban Subversive

I am a bad mother. I let my kid down and I don't even feel sorry.

Jack really wanted to play flag football. But I missed the sign up date. He did make the waiting list but unless I was willing to coach a flag football team (I am not) there wasn't any space for him.

I felt really bad. Until my evil brain reminded me that this means no practices, no games, no canceling plans because of a game conflict, no team mom job this fall, no snack schedules, no team party to plan, etc. No trying to cram homework, dinner, practice in before bedtime. Oh, I felt bad but it felt sooooo good!

It feels gooooood to have no sport commitment. I drive by the park and see teams practicing. There's a twinge of guilt in my heart, but my mind screams "Not me! Not this season!" 

Suddenly we have Saturdays! We might even have a Saturday with NOTHING to do! The possibilities seem endless. We could take a family bike ride. We could hike. We could golf. (Those of you who know me well can stop laughing now. I'm sure Dean would love to do these things with his sons.)

It's sad that this is what passes for subversive behavior in the suburbs: I didn't sign my kid up for a team sport. It seems almost incomprehensible to some. Frequently I just get a blank stare when someone asks what sport the boys are playing this season and I answer "none."

Sign-ups for Winter Basketball are now. The season starts in January. That seems so far away. Will we have had enough of Saturdays? Will we be willing to hand them back to team sports? Will I be able to get away with "oh, I missed the sign ups" again?

Sports TV

I love this story. I sob when I watch it. Why can't Jack stumble across this on ESPN instead of Michael Vick or Roger Clemens' latest? NOOOOO. I had to explain what marijuana was during a March Madness game that included Notre Dame when ESPN was showing the collegiate comeback of an athlete with a criminal record.

Teams mom

Is there an Olympic level for team moms? Can I compete with the best of the best? What would be the prize? Xanax? Valium? Maybe time away with some mental health help?

I am currently team mom for three teams -- one basketball team and two baseball teams. I've got banquets and banners to plan. There are looming snack schedules, field maintenance schedules and who-will-pick-up-the-trash schedules that need to be formatted. I spent 45 minutes on the phone with one coach last night going over the schedules we'll have to create once we actually have the game schedule.

This is serious business.