Softball Practice Gets Wild for the Wildones!

Last night's softball practice was the kind that makes me think, perhaps, we should give up--take our toys and go home.  Imma reverted back to the kind of behavior that makes me want to pull all of my hair out.  And when you feel like that in front of a crowd of people, you usually end up sounding like a lunatic. I don't know exactly how crazy I sounded--the other parents were still speaking to me when it was over so I guess it wasn't as bad as I thought it was--but you never feel good about your parenting when you've had to take your child behind a building and give them a stern talking to.
Imma spent the first 35-40 minutes throwing dirt, spinning, throwing rocks (at people), tossing her glove up in the air, crawling around on the ground, covering herself with dirt, spinning in circles, pulling on her coach's arm, basically doing nothing remotely resembling playing baseball.  I finally went and got her, took her behind the concession stand, and had a "come-to-Jesus" talk with her. Unfortunately, the ladder to Heaven must have been slightly short of it's mark because as soon as I took her back to the dug-out, she threw someone's iPad on the floor, knocked over a drink, stepped on someone's bag, and went back to playing in the dirt.  The only new item was the constant screaming of, "No, Mom! I don't want to watch the ball!"
It's frustrating, humiliating, embarrassing, to have your child act that way. And some people will say she can't help it--but she can.  She can help it. She knows better.  She went straight to bed when she got home.  In trying to weasel her way out of a punishment, she said, "No throwing rocks. No playing in the dirt.  Watch the ball."  So, she does know. She just chooses not to actually play ball when she's in the outfield. It's more fun to throw your glove up in the air or see how much dirt you can collect on top of your shoe.
So maybe she shouldn't be playing. But she enjoys batting and she has fun during the games. She doesn't beg me not to take her anymore. She just gets in the car and goes.  If I thought I was torturing her I would let her stop. But I also think there's a lesson here about following through with commitments and giving something your best effort, even if it's not your favorite thing to do.  My parents signed me up for t-ball two years before they finally decided I really did not like it and I didn't want to play.
That didn't get me out of attending baseball games.  Oh, no, if anything, it committed me to many, many more games. Since I wasn't playing myself, I started keeping score for my brother's team when I was nine. Yep, NINE. I was the official score keeper at literally hundreds of baseball games over the course of the next decade.  I even kept score for tournaments and it became a summer job for me. I never said I wanted to keep score, my dad needed a score keeper and $1 a game sounded like a lot of money to me.  I don't think he ever actually paid me, not even once, but that's another story. I guess my point is, when you're a child, your parents have to decide what they think is best for you.  I still think Imma should finish this season out.  She's learned a lot from baseball already, even if she doesn't realize it, and even if we do still have these huge set-backs that make me want to hide under the bed for three months.
What has she learned so far?  Well, she's learned that she can still trust her friends to cheer her on and help her out when she needs it.  She's learned that she can hit the ball--really well--even if she still doesn't remember to run to first. She's learned that having a team to rely on is always better than trying to do something yourself, because she is more than happy to let the other girls field the ball while she watches it roll by.
She's also a great example to other differently-abled children and parents.  There may be other children with disabilities or parents of these children, who are wondering if it is possible for a child with processing delays to play sports. Imma is making it happen, even if it has taken patience and accommodations from her coaches and teammates. I'm sure there are parents on the other teams and on our own sidelines who wonder what in the world is going on, but there are other parents who look at Imma and see their own child, or a friend's child, and they think, "Oh, well, if she can do it, so can my child."
And they can--they really can.  We have our moments of out-right stink-pottedness for lack of a better term. But we also have our moments of glory, when Imma hits the ball and knocks in an RBI or says something hilarious while she's batting and reminds us all that these are just children, after all.
The bottom line is, we wanted to see if Imma could handle the "normal" act of participating in a team sport.  And, while at times it is difficult to say so, I think the answer is, "Yes, yes she can."  She can do it, with support, like most other things she does, and I think that's okay. It's still a victory.
As for next year, don't hold your breath waiting to see if she'll show up in a softball uniform.  We may hold off on that, or never do it again.  So, if you haven't seen her play yet and you want to, take advantage of the next few weeks, cause this comet may never come back around.
Maybe she should play basketball . . . .