The Washington Nationals have made it to the World Series for the first time ever (arguably). Our region is abuzz with excitement, and even if you don’t care about baseball, hang with me while I compare parenting to the sport.
For example, baseball games can seem long. There can be lulls without anything exciting happening, and then – bam! – something changes the game, for better or for worse. And each batter has his own battle to fight against the pitchers, because batters generally face the starter, then a reliever, and maybe even a third hurler. And within each at-bat, it’s impossible to know whether a pitch will be a ball or a strike, nor if it will be a fastball, curve ball, change-up, slider, or some other pitch I don’t know the name of.
Like baseball, parenting throws these things at us that we don’t expect. But we have to keep coming to the plate. Sometimes, we strike out. Sometimes, we get lucky and get on base because of an error. Sometimes we help a “teammate” score by sacrificing ourselves. And sometimes, we hit it big – a grand slam.
Like baseball, parenting throws things at us we don’t like. But we have to keep coming to the plate.
This week has been a series of at-bats against pitchers who just came up from the minors, so I haven’t been sure what to expect. One of our kids has been sick for nine straight days, every day having a fever above 101. And every day it seemed like things were getting better, but then they worsened again. This child has been home from school for six straight days. We also traveled to Miami in the middle of it all for my brother-in-law’s wedding.
So much of parenting is finding a way in the stress of the moment – facing down the pitcher – to settle in, let go, and take what’s coming at us whether we like it or not. What we sacrifice is not a bunt or a pop fly, but it’s our plans, our desires, and most definitely, our money.
Allow me to introduce exhibit A. This is a $25 key lime pie. The first thought that probably comes to your mind is, “That sounds like a very expensive pie.” It was. And then maybe you wonder, “Who would spend that on a pie?” I would, and did, but wouldn’t under normal circumstances. This pie represents my change-up pitch from yesterday.
We managed to make a homemade key lime pie on Wednesday in preparation for Greg’s birthday. The sweetened condensed milk looked a little funny but I used it anyway, only to discover later that the two cans expired in 2011 and 2015. So after day eight of dealing with illness, I bought that pie on the way home from urgent care about 9 p.m. so we could have a small family celebration despite everything else. (As a side note, I’m slightly concerned someone’s trying to kill us, because we moved in 2017 and I cleaned everything out of my pantry that was expired. So if it’s you, I’m onto you … )
Exhibit B is my curveball from today. It is the $40 of Amoxicillin I just bought. “Don’t you have health insurance?” is, I’m guessing, your first question. Yes, I do, but insurance only pays for one prescription of a kind.
When your sick child gags on and cries about the meds, the pharmacy tries to add flavor to them to make them palatable. When the kid is still nearly vomiting from the flavor, you have a decision to make. The other pharmacy with the pink bubble gum Amoxicillin is 40 yards away, but you’ve already used insurance to fill the barf-inducing prescription. I imagined force-feeding 19 more doses, and the choice seemed obvious when I reminded myself this kid can’t afford to throw up any medicine, let alone calories.
Having kids is costly in every way. But we pay because the thrill of “getting on base” is worth it. Being able to play the game at all is a blessing. Scoring runs, winning games, making the play-offs – these are all analogies for watching the school performances, seeing your kid do something brave, and being blown away by a kind or selfless moment that reminds you why you work so hard in the first place.
Sure, parenting, like baseball, especially at times like these, can be tedious work. But you do the hard stuff for the love of the game.