By Megan
I wrote this post for FriedOkra back in the summer, before Peabody was born. I was all-kindsa pregnant, all hot and cranky and clumsy and OVER IT ALREADY! It feels good to look back on this afternoon and remember how my husband helped me transcend all my little issues and discomfort and be ethereally happy in the moment. He has a way of doing that just when I need it. Thanks, honey!
Bean has her second tee-ball lesson tonight, which reminds me I never gave y’all the low-down on the first one.
Which reminds me that I have great news!
I didn’t sprain, fracture or otherwise maim m’self, people!
I DID get that same look from Bean’s coach that I got from the golf pro the first day of my golf lessons when he saw my gigantic belly and my unmistakeable waddle. The “Oh, now, you have GOT to be kidding me, lady” look. I was summarily dismissed from the action, in his mind, before we even lined up with our kiddies behind the “stand here” line of orange cones.
I tend take these things as a challenge, y’all.
And the mama? Y’all would be so proud. The Mama hung right on in there with the other Mommies and Daddies until that lesson was SLAP DONE WITH. And there was actual running! And scuttling. Wait — shuttling? Scuffling? Hustling? I can’t remember the word for it, but essentially running sideways. And we also ran backwards. And zig-zag!
Oh, there were ALL SORTS of opportunities for me to earn myself AT LEAST an Ace Bandage and an ice pack, people. But I remained unscathed. No bloodshed. No contusions.
So about 40 minutes into the hour-long lesson I began to panic.
WHAT THE HECK AM I GONNA SAY ABOUT THIS ON THE BLOG? It’s been hot, sweaty, sticky and there’s been some grunting and all, but it’s been essentially — non-eventful.
AND THEN CAME THE MOMENT. Not the kinda moment you’d expect on the soccer field, playin’ Roll-the-ball-to-me-Bean- No-to-ME-Bean-not-way-over-crawl-crawl-crawl-THERE-pant-crawl-crawl-crawl-TO-ME-MEEEEEEEEE-Hello BEAN?-I’m-right-here-SEE-ME?, in the waning hours of a hot day, sun beatin’ down, whistles blowin’, Coach coachin’, armpits sweatin’, kids meltin’ down right and left. Not at all. An incongruous moment – which made it all the more, um, momentous.
Because there I was, on that field, with Bean, at the t-ball lesson into which I’d enrolled her with my own hand and pen, of my own volition, stubbornly telling myself and anyone who raised an eyebrow at me that OH I CAN DO IT. ALLBYMYSELF. Eight months pregnant, plus. Ha! No sweat.
And I was makin’ it just fine. And Bean was too. The FriedOkra gals were holdin’ their own out there.
But at one point, mid-crawl, I took a minute to look up from my ball-retrieval mission and peer down toward the soccer goal where many other mothers stood placidly looking on as their husbands shepherded their own kids through these drills, and I spied him.
The man I love. Quickly striding across that soccer field in a dark suit and tie and a pair of sunglasses. OH. MY. GOSH. My heart did flip-flops and somersaults and tried to crawl up my throat, out my mouth and across the turf to gobble him up.
And I said, BEAN! Look who’s here! as I pointed. And her heart near ’bout exploded, just like mine.
DADDEEEEEEEEEEEE!
I’ll tell you people right now. I could have made it through that lesson without Al, and I’ll make it through many more without him, no doubt, because he won’t be able to leave his office a full two hours or so early every Thursday for two months. But last Thursday, I had one of Those Moments. When seeing my husband happily approaching me, him having (probably) moved pretty much heaven and earth to be there, literally about knocked me over with gratitude and sheer delight at having him for my partner, my friend, my mate.
He just does it for me, y’all.
And together, we finished up that lesson with Bean. Oh Al tried to shoo me away to the bleachers to rest, but there was no way in h-e-double-hockey-sticks I was leaving his side. We were a team, the three of us, and I just wanted that moment of re-realization and amazement at the blessings constantly showered upon my little humble self to last a little bit longer. I wanted to be there in the moment with my sweet family, crawling around in the grass and looking at their beautiful faces in the setting sun – two of the three faces I know I’ll love best until the day I die.
We finished up the class and headed back to the parking lot together, Bean between us, holding her big, strong Daddy’s hand in one of hers, mine in the other, deciding where we should go eat dinner. I thanked Al for his wonderful surprise.
“Well, I couldn’t miss Bean’s first tee-ball lesson, could I? A-a-a-nd – I have another surprise for you. I’m taking the day off tomorrow to spend with My Girls.”
Sigh.
Be still my heart.
Those men – they really do know how to make our days don’t they 🙂