There are things that I can't do anymore...

and I really don't mind it. This picture (yes, it's me) was taken about 4 years ago. My youngest daughter was still playing little league. In fact, she'd just start pitching. She threw pretty hard (a high of 46mph), but she only threw one pitch (a fastball). I was actually able to catch her (during practice) for most of that season. When the season ended, so did my catching career. As soon as she started learning the drop ball, I quit. The job of catching her (and her older sister) lies squarely on my husband's shoulders.

I was kinda sad at first, but when I see her throw a 58mph DROP ball from 40 feet and hit my husband in the big toe because she didn't hit her location (it was inside and it was supposed to be outside), I don't mind that I can't do it anymore. In fact, I'm thankful. Thankful that my husband doesn't mind losing toenails (to date he's lost his big toenail 3 times).

At times I feel like I'm not contributing very much. There are days when my husband is on a bucket for 2 hours or more catching throws that beat his hand up (even through the glove and a finger pad). I feel bad for him, but NOT bad enough to jump in a try to catch for them. Don't worry, my family wouldn't let me even if I tried. The girls would kill me. Literally... but not on purpose, of course. I'm pretty sure that their fastball might hit me between the eyes and I wouldn't have even seen it coming. Pretty sad, huh? Now that I wear bifocals, I tell them that I lose the ball about 3 feet out (where it crosses my bifocal line), but the truth is, they just throw too dang hard and I don't even see the ball leave their hand.

So, I have another job. Resident cheerleader. I get to be the "peanut gallery" as my husband loving refers to me when they're practicing. I sit on a bench, outside the batting cage, and watch. I smile. I cheer them on (but not too much), and I generally try to stay out of it when emotions get heated as the girls are struggling with a pitch (or being a perfectionist like their mother). Sometimes I try to go inside and work on something else when they're throwing, but both girls LOVE mommy watching them. If they go out to throw and I'm not coming right away, they'll come back in and say, "mommy, aren't you coming to watch?"... and then I have to go. When your 15 year old daughter calls you MOMMY, it's a no-brainer... watching is automatic.

Well, in a little over a week, the girls are going to my parents for 10 days. They're going to have to catch each other while they are there because try-outs for new teams happen right after they get home. My 66 year old mom wants to catch ONE pitch from each girl while they are visiting. I told the girls that it'd better be a change-up, and they had to throw it REALLY soft (sorry MOM, I don't want you hurt). But then, she can come to their games and say, "I've caught them before..." LOL My mom cracks me up! I'm pretty sure my dad will be just like me. Satisfied to watch and cheer. Right dad?

So, yeah, there are other things that I used to be able to do, but I'm pretty sure that I could do all of them again (with practice), but I'll never catch the girls again. Trust me, that's really a good thing though. If I COULD catch them, they definitely wouldn't throw hard enough to play in college, which is a goal for both. When they reach their goal, you know where I'll be? You got it! Quietly cheering them on from the "peanut gallery"... and loving every minute of it.