The Season’s Over

Wow, it had been almost a month since I posted.  Sorry for those of you who check in regularly, working and the end of our baseball season has tied me up more than I remembered.

So baseball is over finally.  My youngest won their first playoff game and it was their first win of the season.  Great news for them.  They had been steadily improving all year and I knew it was just a matter of time, I just wasn’t sure if it would be this season or next when it came.  But they pulled it off at the perfect time.  So they moved to the second round with their win.  And got beat by the team that finished second overall (with some very big 10 year olds).  Overall I was very happy with our season and with how well the boys did.

My older son’s team finished in third overall, and didn’t win their first playoff game.  It was a rough game and while there were a few missed calls by the umpires, the boys simply didn’t play well enough to win.  One of our pitchers was off, and the other team just played better than we did.  Lots of things contributed to a rough season for the team, but Christian had a good season.  He had a couple of rough games that hurt his average (and helped the strike out totals of the other pitcher), but other than those few, his on-base average was over .500.  And once he is on base, he is a terror to the other team.  He has an uncanny ability to force the other team to make bad throws trying to get him out.  He generally ends up on third and often scores on bad throws.  He is very good at that.

Lydia finished the year in second place.  They won their first playoff game, but the championship game proved a bit too much for them.  I am not exactly sure what happened (I was at Christian’s game while Mom was at Lydia’s).  I do know that Lydia improved as the year went on both in her fielding and her hitting.  She needs to work on her confidence playing.  (She could take lessons from her younger brother, he is sure he will have a home run every time he comes up to bat.)  While I wish Lydia could have won the championship game, I am glad that she got that second place trophy.  After 7 years of playing, she finally got to the championship game.

None of them made it to the all-star game, and while I’m not certain I agree with the decision, at least I didn’t have to make it.  That is one of the nice things about not coaching, I don’t have to make any of the hard decisions. :)  But now that baseball is over (except for the all star game I’m coordinating), it is time to start planning for Fall Ball, our fall instructional season.  Only Caleb (my younger son) will participate, because it is only for the kids in his division.  So the break is nice, but it is short, which is nice as well.

By the way, did I ever tell you that I love baseball? 

CC

 

Champion Baseball

Have I ever told you that my kids play baseball?

We play for Champion Baseball League where I am an assistant coach and a member of the Committee.  It is a ton of fun for the kids, and we love the distraction in the spring and early summer.  The league is designed to not be a competitive league, so we try to avoid the problems that other leagues run into when things get too competitive.  This is not to say we don’t encourage the kids to win, we do indeed.  However, as I’ve told all of the teams I am helping with, I’d rather have the team play their very best and lose than play slipshod and win.

We try to use the “Christian Winner’s Creed” to help teach the kids the proper attitude when playing.  “A true winner always does his best, never to the glory of self, but always to the glory of God.  With the Lord’s help, I will strive to be a true winner today.”  And while I am not naive enough to think that everyone who reads this will believe the same we do, I think everyone can appreciate the sentiment of the statement.  When you hit the field (or the books, or the office), you should give it your best.  If something is worth doing, it is worth giving your best to it.

I don’t pretend that we are perfect in our league, nor do I think we have perfect kids.  But we do hope that our focus will help avoid some of the bad things we see and hear about in other leagues.  I’m sometimes shocked when I see and hear what goes on in other baseball leagues.  I know there are areas that I want to see my kids succeed and especially areas where I may not have achieved.  But to be so focused on sports that I drive my kids batty and “show out” at their games, that doesn’t compute to me.

As our season draws to a close, we are all looking forward to the free weekends again, but that is not to say we love baseball any less.  As with all things, our baseball season must come to a close.  We will be anxiously awaiting the fall when we start again with “Fall Ball” instructional baseball.

CC

Dreams

What are your dreams?  I’ve got plenty of dreams, including dreams for my kids and myself.  But the thing about dreams is that they grow and evolve as our beliefs change and as we grow older.

For example, I used to have a dream to run a Christian campground where churches could send their teens and young people for a weekend retreat, or a weekly camp in the summer.  But now, my beliefs have changed, and I don’t find anywhere in the Scriptures the consistent breaking up of families that we see in churches.

Families are not literally broken up, but when we hit the doors of the church, we are sending everyone to their own Sunday School class based on their age.  When that is done, we send them to children’s church, junior church, youth church or regular service.  We send our kids to children’s ministry activities during the week, while the teens are going to youth activities and the adults might meet for their activities (but generally they don’t).  We are tearing our families in every direction to keep up with the activities of the church.

We visited a church on Sunday that is more family oriented than a traditional church.  My parent’s church is the same way.  The families stay together during the service, and the activities that the church may have are for the family as a whole, not for individual age groups within the church.

This may seem an odd stance coming from someon who was a Youth Director in four different churches.  But as I study the scriptures, I find that splitting up the family in order to minister to them independently doesn’t match the teachings of the scripture.  True, we have the admonision to have the older women and older men teach the younger women and younger men, respectively.  That, however, does not preclude an environment where families are kept together.  More importantly, the idea of “turning the hearts of children to their fathers and the hearts of fathers to children” is a vital part of the ministry of Christ.  We also see the teaching for women to remain silent in the church, but to learn from their husbands at home.

I do want to clarify that last point.  I don’t think the Apostle Paul was a woman hater.  I think he was expounding God’s order for things.  God created Adam to be the head of his household, and that is the way God designed the family to exist.  The husband is the head.  That does not give the husband the authority to be an unrelenting dictator.  In fact, quite the opposite.  The husband is to show the same love for his spouse that Christ showed for the church.  Christ died for the church despite the church being unfaithful and disobedient to Him.  In addition, the husband is not to “provoke his children to wrath.”  This precludes any sort of evil dictatorship, and requires a humble, Christ-like leader.

So, my dream has changed.  Rather than a youth and children’s camp, I want to have a family camp.  A place where families of all sizes can come to get away and spend some time with God.  Most specifically, I’d like to offer family camps for churches.  A time for a church to get away as families and learn more about God.  A place where fun and worship can meet.  A place where families can grow more close to each other as well as closer to God.  Also, a place where families can learn from one another how to better worship as a family.

That is one of my dreams.  I would like to find someplace for the camp with several thousand acres and a seasonable climate.  I know that this dream is likely not to happen unless God graces us with either a benefactor or a large sum of money.  But that is what a dream is all about.  Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether you actually ever attain your dream, just that you have it.

CC

Happy Birthday Mom

Mom’s birthday was actually yesterday, and while I did indeed call her and wish her a happy birthday, I didn’t get to post this (didn’t get to bed until almost 3am).  So anyway, I wanted to get this posted before it was too late.

I know there are a lot of people who didn’t have good home lives, and who don’t have good memories of their parents.  I am not among those people.  I was an only child (and an only grandchild on my mom’s side for almost 12 years).  I had plenty of friends, but I always could come home to a loving family.

When I was young, Mom had plenty of time for me.  Whether it was playing a game or fixing my favorite dinner.  She was always wiling to spend that little bit of time to make me feel special.  Sure, there was also discipline and correction (which I surely needed), but there was a lot of fun, too.

As I got older, my parents decided to home school me.  Mom was my teacher for many subjects, and for some, we “learned” together.  Mom always had time to read with me when I was finding something a bit too boring.  She would gladly review me when I wasn’t sure that I knew the subject well enough.  Once the laws were relaxed enough, she even would award my hard work by taking me out to lunch on Friday if I had finished my week’s worth of work by then.

After I married, my Mom could have easily been a typical mother-in-law and caused problems with my wife.  Initially, things were not always the easiest as Shannon and Mom both adjusted to their new relationship, but within a few years, they had grown to be close.  Now they enjoy spending time together, shopping and talking (and, yes, Mom even enjoys it when the grandkids aren’t there).

Mom isn’t working anymore, at least not outside of the home.  She runs a home based business called Patti’s Originals.  Mostly sewing, but some gift baskets and accessories thrown in.  If you have a daughter or granddaughter, you will not find a place to get more lovingly created clothing.  I know because my Mom is frequently making clothes for my kids.

All in all, I have a great Mom and in addition to a hearty Happy Birthday, I want her to know that I love her very much.

CC

A Father’s Fear

One of my biggest fears as a father is that I will do something to let my kids down.  I try my best to be there for them.  While I don’t give them everything they want, I do sometimes find that they are upset with me.  Sometimes this is good (when they want something not good for them), other times it isn’t (when I needed to do something for them).  Here’s my story from today to explain.

Before Lydia started her (11:00 am) ballgame today, she had to take off her jewelry.  So she was headed to the bench to give her mom her watch and ring.  Only she was supposed to be lining up, so I told her to give it to me instead (as an assistant coach, I like up with them).  I put it in my pocket not realizing that her ring was with her watch.

Fast forward to sometime durring the game.  The watch was jabbing into my thigh whenever I sat down on the bench between innings.  So I pulled it out of my pocket to give to my wife.  Unfortunately, I still didn’t realize the ring was there.  The ring fell out at some point.  The watch took its place in my wife’s purse, the ring settling on the ground somewhere.

More fast forward, and we are leaving (after our 9:00 am, 11:00 am and 1:15 pm games) to come home.  After my wife calls to order pizza for dinner, Lydia asks for her watch and ring from her mom.  Shannon digs the watch out of her purse, but couldn’t find the ring.  She emptied her purse and still nothing.  I checked my pockets (finally realizing that I was supposed to have the ring as well), and nothing.  We turned around and headed back to the fields.

Lydia, Christian and I got out of the van and looked around the field while Shannon manned the van.  We looked for 10 minutes or so, and found nothing.  I called her coach to check and they hadn’t found it.  I was feeling lower than the dirt and grass we were looking through.  We checked the two other places on the fields where I took stuff out of my pocket.  Nothing, nothing, nothing.

We drove home as I beat myself up for losing the ring.  Lydia for her part, tried to help her dad feel better.  I had told her that we would get her another ring if we couldn’t find it.  This ring was a promise ring that her mother and I gave her for her 13th birthday.  It was a promise by her to wait on the person God has for her.  It is a heart with a keyhole in it, and it came with a key tie tack for me to where.  It represents the fact that God has tasked me to guard her heart.

You see, we have taught Lydia that it is as important to keep herself emotionally pure as it is for her to be physically pure.  How beautiful it will be if her husband is her first love.  How much pain and sorrow will she avoid by staying away from the typical “dating” lifestyle.  She wants for part of her wedding ceremony to be a moment when I give the key to her husband to represent the passing of the responsibility for guarding her emotions.  More on that some other day.  Anyway, suffice it to say that this was a very special ring for her.

So, I’m feeling aweful, and despite the fact that I promised to get her another one, it will not be the same.  When we got home, Lydia caught me at the door while everyone else was at the van.  She patted my shoulder and consoled me, “It’s OK dad.”  I almost cried then and there.

I sent an email to all the coaches asking if perhaps someone found it.  When that was done, I reached for the last chance in my quickly dwindling hopes.  I called the coach that was on the field for the game after Lydia’s.

God was watching over Lydia’s absentminded father.  Someone had found the ring during the next game, and turned it in to the other coach.  He held onto it and is keeping it safe for us until we can meet up to get it back.  After the long day, and the stress of my maximum mess up, I was drained.  I was so grateful that everything worked out so well.

CC

One More First Game

I know everyone who reads my blog (all five of you) is probably getting tired of hearing about my kids baseball games.  Unfortunately that is the majority of our life, and I don’t want to write about the job rejection notice I got today.  So, I am going to tell one more baseball story for now.  Hopefully tomorrow I will have more variety in my thoughts (or I will remember to write before I get so tired).

Lydia played her first game Saturday.  Lydia is my oldest (14) and she is very glad to be playing again this year.  Her year off cost her some of her skills, but she was anxious and ready to play on Saturday.  Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for her team.

The game started and, to be kind, it was ugly.  Bobbled balls and wild throws, and by the middle of the third inning, they were donw by 9 runs.  First game jitters are one thing, but this was just ugly softball.  Being somewhat unsure of how to handle a team full of 13-16 year old girls, I generally jogged over to the third base coaching box and let the head coach handle the dress downs and pick-me ups.

Two outs in the bottom of the third, and something happened.  I’m not certain what it was, but a spark ran through the team and by the time the inning was over, they were down by only two runs.  Lydia cranked out a double that inning, and scored on the next batter’s hit.  I had to laugh at the other coach.  After her first at-bat when she popped a fly ball to a leaping short stop, he decided to bring his infield in for Lydia.  I’m not sure if he thought she was someone else, or what, but he definitely didn’t know by girl.

Lydia had been very frustrated at the down-turn her hitting had taken, and I had given her a few pointers as had her coach.  She was trying to figure out what to do to remind herself of those things when she came up to bat, and despite her first at-bat being an out, she was getting there.  Then came the double and score in the second inning.  Now, for those of you who do not know my daughter, she is not the fastest runner there is.  In fact, she is rather slow.  She knows this and we have worked on it (her coach from 3-4 years ago was at the game and said she was running the fastest she’d ever seen her run).  So for Lydia to get a double and then score from second is saying something.  In fact, she confessed to me later that she was shocked when I sent her around third to home.

Anyway, to make a long story short, we were abel to tie the game in the bottom of the fourth.  The bases were loaded with two outs and Lydia came up to bat.  Now, I confess that I always remember the “mighty Casey” when my kids are batting in these situations.  I have had it happen twice recently and both times ended well.  Back to Lydia.

After 5 pitches, Lydia had a full count.  One more pitch, ball or strike and she would be either the heroine or the goat.  Pitcher threw the ball, and Lydia swung the bat.  The ball went skidding sideways, past the baseline, foul.  My stomach churned as Lydia stepped back in for the next pitch.  I’m not certain who had the worse case of nerves, but I will defer to my daughter since she was actually in the situation, and I was just watching her.

The next pitch came floating in, and Lydia didn’t swing.  Ball four, and she was walked to first.  The other runners advanced, pushing the winning run across the plate.  No, it wasn’t a dramatic game saving hit, but she was able to fight off that pitch before to stay alive long enough to draw the walk.  Lydia with the game winning RBI.

There is always next time for the dramatic hit, but at least for now, the JV Tigers were successful due, in no small part, to my Lydia.

CC

My Little Princess

After posting about both of my sons, my youngest daughter asked if I had posted about her. Well here is what I came up with.

Let me clarify, I love my baby girl a ton, and I wouldn’t trade her for the world, but she is such a princess and a diva, we have to enjoy her differences.  My older daughter and my wife, while very feminine, are not the girly type.  My baby girl is, in spades.  She loves shoes, and despite having many pairs of footwear, none go unworn for very long.  We have had to clamp down on her changing outfits once we got to three outfits a day (we’ve cut that down to only one or two).  Make-up was the latest big thing, and while I won’t get her any “real” make-up, that doesn’t stop her from putting on what she has (thanks to grandparents).  Last time she put some on, she looke as thought she’d been beaten about the face, but she was “wearing makeup”.

I know that one day I will turn over the care and protection of this little diva to some young man who may end up very surprised at what he gets.  You see, as I (an only child, therefore no sisters) have learned, it can be very expensive tending to the needs of a princess.  I am facing now, the feeding of a teenage son, and I can say this rivals the care and tending of an  8-year old princess, but I’m sure as the age grows, the funds required to care for her will change.  So I feel for this young man.

My Little Princess

I have a little princess who is more than just a girl.
She is my little diva, my precious little pearl.

She goes by many names, and is still my “lady bug”
And she makes my smile brighter with just a little hug.

Dolls and toys are still her fun, but she also knows
That every diva cannot live without her shoes and clothes.

She is too young for make-up, but as she will explain
Every princess needs it, their beauty to attain.

With every girlish giggle, I find a sweet release,
He simple childhood laughter, gives her daddy special peace.

Someday she will grow older, and with that thought in mind,
I’m sure some special gentleman, her heart will likely find.

I must confess I’ll not be glad to see that “one day” come.
But the poor guy will need to have quite a large income.

Not for me, I don’t expect my kids to pay my way,
But he will learn you need lots of cash where the Diva’s gonna stay.

CC

Caleb Ran Away

Last year in February, our family was involved in a bad car accident.  Our minivan was destroyed.  Caleb, my younger son (8 at the time), was the one injured the worst.  While everyone else just suffered scrapes and bruises, Caleb was not so fortunate.  He had taken his shoulder strap off to lay on the seat to sleep, and when the vehicles impacted, he hit is head against the seat in front of him.

When I asked if everyone was OK, Caleb didn’t respond.  About the time I turned around, Lydia (my oldest) began almost hysterically calling his name.  I jumped out of the van to check on him, and he had a huge lump on his forehead and he was not responding to our calls.  I tried to get him to respond for what seemed like forever, alternately calling to him and calling to God to spare him.

Finally, after several other people had stopped, and while one of them was on the phone with 911, Caleb whimpered.  After a trip by helicopter to the hospital, they did many tests and scans and declared him healthy, at least healthy enough to go home.  Caleb was suffering from Post Concussive Syndrome.  There was nothing the folks at the hospital could have done to prevent it or to change it.  I wish someone had told us to watch for it, but I’m not sure that would have even prepared us for what happened.

I wrote the following on the day of the event that I never expected to face.

Today is Thursday, March 15, 2007.  Today Caleb ran away from home.

 

I awoke with the first sounds of my alarm clock sometime around 6:51 am.  With a 9 minute snooze, I can snooze once and still be up at 7:00 am.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get up with the first snooze.  I must’ve hit is 4 or 5 times, because it was after 7:30 when I finally got up.  Following my traditional routine, I headed for my shower unaware that around this time my 9 year old son was making his exit from our house.

 

After showering and dressing, I headed to the living room to read my morning Bible reading.  Shannon, whom I had wakened while I dressed, was soon out and starting work on my lunch in the kitchen.  After putting the toast in for the sandwiches, she headed past me to wake the children.  Shortly, she asked the question that brought to a screeching halt the normalcy of the morning.

 

“Where’s Caleb?” she asked.

 

“Isn’t he in his bed?”  Looking to the futon.  “No”  Looking to the girls, just exiting from their room.  “Caleb!  CALEB!!!”

 

From his bedroom, “Paul, his window is opened!”

 

Up, I’m dashing to the front door.  Quickly turning the alarm off and out the door, I rush around the house looking for my lost boy.  Around the back of the house, I open the shed door.  One, two, three.  His bike is missing.  Where has my boy gone.

 

Back into the house, I gather my keys and pass along instructions.

 

To everyone:  “His bike is missing.”

 

To Christian:  “I need you to get dressed and go look for his bike in the yard and woods.”

 

To Shannon:  “Did you find him?  No, I need you to get dressed and look around here.  I’m going out to drive and look for him.  I have my cell phone.”

 

Into the van, I’m down the driveway trying to get the windows clear of dew so I can see.  Wipers flipping and side windows down, I’m slowly moving up the street looking on the side of the road and in the ditch where the kids play.  Nothing.  I keep moving, a bit faster now, more nervous.

 

To the end of our cul-de-sac, nothing.  Turning on to the short road out of the subdivision, nothing.  Out to the crossing street, left or right?  Right first, and just over the hill and down a couple hundred feet, and I just know this isn’t the right way.  I feel like I’m trying for something very futile.  Turning around I have a quick decision to make, do I try the other way, or head back home.  It is just a quick, short trip up the other direction to the main road, I’ll try that far.

 

Why, Caleb, why?  Of course, there is no answer.

 

Down the hill and back up, around the curve.  There’s a truck, and a man.  But…

 

Stopping at the stop sign, I finally see Caleb, on the shoulder, fallen down.  Rushing to him, I’m overjoyed to have found him, but still deeply concerned as to why.  Little did I understand at the time, the hand of God showing His mercy and grace.

 

Caleb’s pants were stuck in his bike chain.  He was past the bridge and continuing on the road when it got stuck, and he came back to the bridge to fix it before moving on.  That’s when the man saw him and stopped.  Caleb was in the middle of the road when the man stopped.

 

God was there.  If Caleb’s pants hadn’t been caught in the bike chain when they did, I may not have seen him.  I might not have gotten there in time.  If I hadn’t decided to try this direction to the end of the road, I might not have gotten there in time.  If I hadn’t decided to turn around from the other direction, I might not have gotten there in time.  If Shannon hadn’t decided to wake the kids up when she did, she wouldn’t have noticed he was missing as early, and I surely wouldn’t have found him in time.

 

The man who had stopped, had already called the police.  After loading the bike, backpack, and boy into the van, the police arrived.  I jumped out to see if he needed anything from me.  Everything was fine, the other man left, and the officer asked to speak with Caleb.  I made phone calls to allow the officer to ask questions to satisfy him.  Shortly, Caleb and I were on the way back home.  God has given grace and mercy to spare my son twice.

The evidence of Got that morning was so clear.  From the protection of Caleb to the His leading me in the right direction.  Even the smallest detail of Caleb’s pant leg getting caught in his bike chain.  The Saturday before, the kids were riding their bikes and I was adjusting my daughter’s chain.  My older son told Caleb to ask and I would fix “that” for him.  Turns out the “that” was the chain guard (that prevents your pant leg from getting caught in your chain).  Seems Caleb didn’t like it and wanted me to take it off.  So off it went.

Caleb is back to normal now, whatever normal is for a 9 year old boy.  He is caught up somewhere between Star Wars, Stargate and Stargate: Atlantis with a little Batman and Spiderman thrown in for fun.  He played his first baseball game of the season last night, and while they didn’t win, the team showed huge potential.  Caleb had a blast, and listening to him describe the game to his grandparents on the phone reminded me of why I coach and assist.  Despite the loss, it was very clear that my 9 year old miracle boy had the time of his life playing.  I’m just glad that God has allowed us the privelege of keeping Caleb here to show us all how to enjoy life to its fullest.

CC

 

Last year in February, our family was involved in a bad car accident.  Our minivan was destroyed.  Caleb, my younger son (8 at the time), was the one injured the worst.  While everyone else just suffered scrapes and bruises, Caleb was not so fortunate.  He had taken his shoulder strap off to lay on the seat to sleep, and when the vehicles impacted, he hit is head against the seat in front of him.

When I asked if everyone was OK, Caleb didn’t respond.  About the time I turned around, Lydia (my oldest)

The Amenities of a Perfect Job

I started to write a post today for a perfect job, but it turned out much more technical than I had originally intended, so I decided to save it for some other time.  Today what I really wanted to talk about were the “extra” things we look for in a job.

I know that some people will consider me crazy, but I have decided that, for now, I am only going to be looking for a job here in our local area.  Yes, there are very few programming jobs locally, and yes, jobs outside of the area may vanish if we dip too deep into a recession.  I do understand those points, and while they are valid, I have a very prominent reason for not wanting to look outside this area.

Three of my four kids are playing baseball/softball this spring (my princess opted out), and their season isn’t over until the first week of June.  So, with that in mind, I am not going to even start looking for a job outside of our local area until late May.  God might work things out so that I find a job locally, or we may have to live off our severance package for a while.  Either way, we are OK with that, but I don’t want to sacrifice my kids activities just because I “have to have” a job.

I can remember when my second son was 2 years old.  It was the first time I was not able to go with my wife to either her or one of the kid’s doctor’s appointment.  Until then, I had gone with her every time for both her doctor and for my kids appointments.  The feelings I had that day are vivid in my memory, and although I have missed many appointments since that day 11 years ago, I regret what I lost.  I regret that our society has grown to a point where it is not considered a necessity for a husband/father to be with his family for these types of occasions.

I understand that a routine well-patient doctor’s visit isn’t a big deal, and no, I do not for one second doubt my wife’s ability to handle these responsibilities.  But how sad is it that our culture puts a higher price tag on an hour or two of “productivity” than on the same hour or two of family time.  How different our culture, our society, and most importantly, our families would be if we placed more value on the things that really matter, like time spent with family, than on getting that extra buck, or earning that next promotion.

So, as I look for a new job, I will be looking for one with those special amenities.  No, I don’t expect to be able to go to every doctor’s appointment with my wife and kids.  But I do expect to have the time to make it to baseball games and practices.  I do expect to have the ability to make it to piano recitals and choir performances.  I definitely will require the job to allow me to spend the time with my wife and kids to make sure they know how special and important they are to me.

CC

Father-Son Outing

Last night I took my older son out for our father-son outing. My older daughter and I go to the game store on alternating Tuesdays, so I decided the off Tuesdays would be a good time for a Father-Sod outing. Since we missed two weeks ago, I decided to splurge a bit.

We ended up at the local “fun park” for a night of Deer Hunting video games and Go-Carts. Of course, we also did the obligatory Skee-Ball and Hoops to get some tickets so he could get a prize for his brother and sisters. But the highlight of the night was definitely the go-carts.

My son may not be the best at some things, but he learns fast. Let me explain. As a father, I want my son to learn to work hard for his victories in life, so I’m not afraid to beat him at different games, including go-cart racing. However, I’m also wary of destroying his confidence and desire to try, so I do my best to keep him close, but not “letting” him win. Given that he is almost thirteen years old, finding this fine line is becoming harder and harder.

So, back to yesterday. Fortunately it was a school night and we had the go-carts nearly to ourselves. We started out the first race and my son was determined that he would get the lead car. So he was in front and I was in back starting out. About half way through the first lap, I was able to pass him and a couple times through the course I could tell he was falling behind. I would slow a little, or ride the “outside” lane and let him get close. In the end, I won that first race.

We played some Deer-Hunter then returned for round 2 of the race. This time, the first car in the lane was pink, so my son (remember he is almost 13) graciously let me go first. Again, through the first lap or two, he was having some trouble keeping up. I let him stay close, then decided to let him pass. At this point, let me say I’m not positive who was playing whom. Suffice it to say, he was able to hold the lead and win the second race. He was excited and I was happy to see him enjoying his victory.

So, we jumped back into line for the final of our 3 races, the ultimate tie breaker. No pink cars this time, so my son was glad to jump in the first car. He got a bit of a false start and the attendant made him wait until I was ready before starting. We had a great duel, racing neck and neck for most of the track.

Now, you have to understand. I’m not a small man. My son on the other hand is nearly paper thin. (Growing like a week, eating us out of house and home, but shapely as a walking cane.) So this race is truly a competition between brains and brawn. I mean my son is flooring the accelerator trusting the muscle of the motor to speed him along the course. I am also flooring my accelerator, only I have a different trust. As I listen to the motor sputter and cough at my weight, I know in my head that the downhills are my friend as the added weight will help me speed up faster. I also know that I can take the corners tighter since the weight will help me retain traction while my son fishtails and bounces.

So on we go, passing the lap marker. There is the yellow light marking the final lap. I know this is my last chance. I follow closely on my son’s back bumper and near the end of the track, I make my move on the inside of a hairpin curve. He turns into the curve, unaware of my inching up on him and we collide. He spins to the side and I am facing him in a T-bone.

Now, those of you familiar with go-carts and racing, will understand that this means I win. The simple fact is that after this type of collision the car in my son’s position will run into the wall and need to be turned to get back into the race. Well, that’s the normal outcome from someone who races more regularly. My son on the other hand, stayed in the race and won because of his inexperience.

When he first started to spin, he pulled his foot off the accelerator and slammed on his break. A no-no to anyone with any driving experience. However, in this case, it prevented his sideways cart from hitting the wall and allowed him to turn back into the raceway without any trouble. He pulled away from me and easily won the race.

Congrats to the winner. We celebrated at Baskin Robbins (no, it is not on my diet) where he chose some decidedly nasty flavor that only children enjoy (whether to torment their parents or because they really like it, I’m not sure).  I, on the other hand, chose the mature selection of Rocky Road in a chocolate and candy sprinkle coated waffle cone.  What?!?  I had to console myself on the loss.

CC