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Confessions of a (Not Quite Ready to Retire) Baseball Mom
In our household, baseball isn’t just a hobby; it’s practically a lifestyle. So when it came time to see if our daughter would take to the sport with the same enthusiasm, we knew she was stepping up to the plate with a lot on her shoulders. Growing up in a family with two teenage brothers who practically lived at the baseball fields, plus parents who have coached and played for years, little Emma was destined to be a part of the action—whether she was ready or not.
For those outside of Southern California, it might be surprising to learn that there’s no defined baseball “season” here. At the high school level, it’s a year-round commitment: summer ball, fall ball, winter ball, and then the spring season. And let’s not forget about Little League, which takes over our schedules from when your child is 4 until they finish middle school, plus travel ball for every age group available at a price.
Our sons, Max and Ryan, participated in all these leagues simultaneously, making our family’s baseball agenda all-consuming. My husband and I often found ourselves splitting up on weekends to manage the boys’ games and practices.
So, when I discovered I was expecting at 40, it felt like a curveball. As I stared at that positive pregnancy test, I wondered where I would fit a car seat alongside the mountains of baseball gear in our Volvo. It was time for a trade: goodbye compact car, hello massive SUV. With the arrival of Emma in November 2010, we were excited to welcome our little rookie.
Due to a whooping cough outbreak, we kept Emma away from crowded places until she was four months old, but she made her debut at a travel ball game just three weeks after her birth. True to her nature, Emma adjusted beautifully. She nursed while I cheered on Ryan from my foldable chair, and when the weather turned cool, we’d simply move to the backseat of our SUV to watch the game.
During All Stars, I painted her onesies in Ryan’s team colors, though she spent most of the games napping peacefully in her stroller. She also sported a mini team zip-up at Ryan’s tournaments, and I managed to snag a pink El Camino High School jacket for her, one of the few ever made in that color.
Now at four, Emma has developed her own sense of style, making it tricky to coordinate outfits. I had a win with a “Lil Sis” tank top adorned with sparkles, while I struck out with a T-shirt that read “My Brother Can Get Your Brother Out.” Convincing her to wear that took some candy bribing.
Emma has enjoyed countless travel experiences, from road trips to Las Vegas for Ryan’s tournaments to cheering for her brothers in Arizona and Los Angeles. This year, she even flew to Denver for Max’s college opener. Through it all, she’s braved sweltering heat and bundled up during snow flurries, proving to be quite the trooper. During a recent week of 10 games in just seven days, she didn’t complain once. I wish I had a dime for every time someone remarked on her resilience!
Of course, keeping her entertained during these games requires an entire team effort. Between snacks and toys, I even found a duffel bag perfect for her dollhouse. The real highlight for Emma, though, has been her friendships with high school cheerleaders who’ve doted on her since Max was a freshman. She’s also enjoyed rare moments when one of her brothers’ teammates has a sibling close to her age.
As seasons change, Emma sometimes struggles to remember which players belong to which team. I often hear her asking, “Will Summer be there?” But as we know, Summer’s brother is now playing college ball.
After four years of this nonstop baseball life, we’re starting to see Emma’s interest wane. On occasion, she’ll whine, “Can we go now?” before the first inning concludes. With two more years of Ryan’s high school career ahead and Max playing in another state, she still has plenty of baseball in her future.
However, as Emma grows into her own person, there’s uncertainty about whether she’ll share our family’s passion for the game. Just last weekend, at a college game, she looked up from her book and asked, “What are we doing here?”
Everyone is curious when Emma will transition from spectator to player. Will she follow in her brothers’ footsteps and make a name for herself on the field, or will her interests lie elsewhere, like in dancing or riding ponies? She enjoys hitting wiffle balls, but I wonder if she’d care as much if her gear weren’t pink.
It’s a thought to ponder: has growing up in a baseball family ignited a passion in her, or has it made her indifferent? Only time will tell. For now, I know I’ll support her in whatever path she chooses. But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss the thrill of the game and the chance to vent about umpire calls.
Regardless of where her interests lead her, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of cheering left in me. I could easily transition to being a dance mom or even a soccer mom. But for now, I’m batting a perfect .1000 as a baseball mom, and I’m hopeful that my little girl will one day find her passion among the dirt and diamonds as well.
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Summary
This piece reflects a mom’s journey through the whirlwind of baseball life with her children, particularly focusing on the integration of her youngest daughter, Emma. As Emma grows, the mom wonders if her daughter will embrace the sport like the rest of the family or carve her own path. With a humorous and heartfelt tone, the blog captures the joys, challenges, and uncertainties that come with raising kids in a baseball-centric family.