I was quite suprised that somewhere between the Fall and Spring of Kindergarden is when (apparently) boys become men and no longer need to hit baseballs off of tees... 5, almost 6, seems mighty young to me to expect coordination enough to connect bat to ball even ON a tee, let alone when said ball is flying through the air at a (sorry Coach) inconsistent speed and angle and the bat weighs about 1/3 of your total body mass. But, then again, perhaps that is why I rode the pine in my brief T-ball career.
Cooper, on the other hand. Well, he was up for the challenge.
Check out that stance:
Look out coach... you don't want to get too close...
Cause he can swing that bat around pretty good!
So much so, he already has a well established cheering section:
I am not going to lie. We hit a bit of a bump in the road. The season started off and both Steve and I had a ohholycrap moment when we saw that some of the kids were a bit... sturdier than you. Bulky. Accompanied by somewhat intense parents. But like in all things, you rose to the challenge and after several weeks of practice, we were thrilled when each game involved more hits than strike outs and you were having fun on a winning team. Then came "The Slump". For some reason, one Tuesday night you just kind of... lost your groove. You started swinging at the dirt and just clearly didn't feel natural. We didn't care, but you were disappointed to not have a hit in the game, so we promised to work with you to fix what we could. Unfortunately, the next game was Thursday, and given the schedules we keep, we didn't have the chance to get things fixed in 48 hours, so you endured another night without connecting. BUT... here is the thing. Sure you were disappointed, but you were such an AMAZING sport. You walked away from home plate, shrugged it off, and got back out there on defense. You chased down balls. You kept your head up and your head in the game. I never realized how much I could NOT care if you got a hit, and yet want with my whole might for that bat to hit the ball. Whether you go pro or never get beyond coach pitch, I just want you to have fun. But YOU wanted a hit, so I wanted it for you. Badly. But beyond that, I never realized how proud you would make me by how you responded to not getting a hit. You set an example to be proud of.
So.... we spent the weekend getting your form fixed. We worked it out. And the next game you knocked it out 2 of your 3 at bats.
Even more important, you got to play catcher. And you looooved it.
And I loved watching you. You actually understood what you were doing, and weren't terrified of the baseballs flying at you and/or the bat swinging near your head.
You stayed focus, you got your glove up, and not only did you stop the balls from rolling past you (the general expectation at this age for catcher), but you actually caught some of the pitches directly in your glove.
Needless to say, when the coach looked around that night at the team, he commented that everyone was getting hits when up to bat, but the team needed to focus on fielding, and when he had to pick the person who stood out the most for his accomplishments that night on the field, the person deserving of the game ball.... well, guess who he picked:
Also a cool gem stone dig kit:
Despite the rain we managed to have a blast all day Saturday, culminating in a movie in bed before the slumber party in my room. 
I was quickly reminded why I never really liked Dumbo. The psychedelic dancing elephants sequence was unnecessary and lengthy. 
The kids loved it. Such that it was difficult to get us together for a selfie containing all of us. 
... Then it went lights out and, as to be expected, within about 3 minutes daphne had head banged Cooper and was ready to go back up to her room. Our party of 3 became a party of 2. And while I wanted the sweet littlest potato to make it all night, there was a certain perfection to having just Coop and I time. Complete with video games:
And an art project:
My best bud. 
It was totally his vision, our masterpiece:
On too little sleep and too much sugar, we greeted Sunday. 
And continued the fun. 
I am counting down the minutes til Steve walks back through the door. 
But I have to say, all things considered...
