Oprah describes something called the "Ugly Cry" on her show sometimes. (I have lots of time to watch Oprah because the life of a stay at home mom is only made up of bon bons, hair appointments, and lunch dates.)
Her definition of the Ugly Cry is something to the effect of just losing it and breaking into that cry that comes complete with sobs, snot, and semi-convulsing. You've been there - you know what I'm talking about. It's the cry you save for when you're all alone. It's not the pretty one you do at church or in front of your kids. It's the one where you look half alien.
This is the cry I have been on the verge of this entire day. So far, I have maintained control. However, I cannot guarantee that I can keep this composure much longer.
Today is Craig's first baseball game.
If you were wanting something a little more earth shattering there, you're going to have to come back another time. Or - keep reading and I'll explain why his first baseball game IS earth shattering for this family of four.
Today is such a monumental day because I think some where deep down inside, I never thought it would happen. There were times when that child was four and five that I wondered if we'd ever be able to do anything "normal" families do.
Yes, we attempted things that normal families do - but so many times, it ended in disaster. Craig's behavior would escalate until the family outing was no longer fun for anyone involved. Sometimes it would be during a simple dinner out at a restaurant. Sometimes it would be while on vacation at the beach. Sometimes we'd be with friends & family. Other times we'd be alone. However, rest assured ... Craig would bring the drama.
Knowing what we know now about his food allergies and what we were feeding him, I know that he simply couldn't help it. That makes me feel like a complete FOOL as his mother. It also makes me feel incredibly sorry for him.
The older he got, the more he was able to tell me what he was feeling. I remember in Kindergarten when he told me that his brain "was just telling [him] to do bad stuff". That's heartbreaking to hear as his mother!
And in reality - he nailed it! Because he was ingesting things that were essentially poison for his body, his brain really WAS malfunctioning. (At this point I'm going to lose some of my readers that don't understand just how much food plays a role in human behavior. That's ok.)
All of his friends started playing t-ball when they were four. Craig would come home and talk about wanting to play baseball and we'd just look at each other. How in the world could we enroll him in baseball when we couldn't even leave him with a sitter safely?
Then came the questions from friends and family about why Craig didn't play organized sports yet. Those were fun to field! (No pun intended.) We heard multiple times about how his dad was a coach and so he HAD to play sports. And yet, living with Craig 24 hours a day, 7 days a week - we knew he wasn't ready. (Granted, we were wondering if he'd ever be ready. But, we just knew he wasn't ready then.)
So, here he is - the end of his second grade year - 8 1/2 years old and we are finally letting the child participate in his first ever organized sporting event: baseball. To say he is thrilled in an understatement. To say we are thrilled is only half true.
You see, we are thrilled. However, we're so much more. After 8 years of searching, we finally have answers and we finally have a son who can participate in the "normal" things of life. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I want this kid to be involved in every sport offered or to fill each of his afternoons with a different lesson. I just wanted him to be able to experience what every little boy seems to yearn for at some point growing up: The American Baseball experience. And knowing that there was a time in his life when we wondered if he'd ever be stable enough to experience it makes us appreciate it all the more.
He may be like his mom and run from the ball his first time up at bat. He may do just like I did and beg to quit tonight after the game. He may hate baseball by the end of the season. But, at the end of the day what we have is a little boy who actually gets to try it instead of a frustrated, angry, irritated son who doesn't understand himself or life around him.
Tonight we do not care if he misses the ball each pitch. We don't care if he drops every pop fly that comes his way. We don't care if he never gets on base or if he throws the ball to the wrong person each time he fields. We just care that God led us to truth which led us to a delightful son who is funny, caring, and incredibly thoughtful. His Word is true when it says that the truth will set you free. That's exactly what has happened for us.
So, tonight I may yell "Go Braves!" and I may scream "Yea Craig!". And I'll mean every bit of both of those regardless of the performance or the score. However, so much more than my outward enthusiasm will be my inward heart which will be overflowing with gratitude to the One who has shown us so much truth and has redeemed a dear little boy's life so that we can enjoy precious moments like first baseball games.
To Him be all glory & honor!
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