We SO did not know what we were in for when we signed Captain Slugger (aka Toby) up for baseball this year.
No longer was it the lazy parent Saturday routine.
It was a 3 game a week-er deal! Plus practices!
And it was NOT easy! I mean…I’m sure that’s a hefty load for any parent. But seriously…with a Seizure Boy in the mix…I think I have whiners rights!
But then I look at him. My big boy. So cute in his uniform that I just wanna run on the field to pinch his boot. Or give him a smoochie. Or stay glued to the dugout so we can cuddle against his will. And embarrass the heck outta him.
In those moments. The cute moments. It feels a little bit easier. Worth it.
Now that we’ve entered the Little League three games a week phase of life…it’s different. Balancing everything I mean. Seizures have a way of always tipping the balance scale. Just when you feel like you’ve found your footing.
Something shifts. And somehow it always seems to tip in the wrong direction. Although…in my head I know that’s not true. Cause…we have days with less seizures and more smiles. I don’t know. I suppose I’m easy to throw off balance. And not so easy on the regaining it end.
Which is why we were relieved when the season was finally over! And also why we said no to AllStars.
Emphatically. THREE times in fact.
It just felt like TOO much to juggle.
Seizures. Practices. Seizures. Four games a week. More seizures. Double headers even. And it’s a travelling team. Only the bus is mommy and daddy.
So we said no. Felt guilty. Cause Toby loves baseball so much. But there are lines. Drawn into our life by seizures.
Toby’s coach kept pestering us.
In fact, the last practice of the regular season he came over to the fence and was, like,
Jonathan and I were quiet for a second…so he went on…
“If it’s rides…we can work out rides. That’s not a problem!”
I had already determined (without telling hubs-ie) that if he asked us again. Face to face. I would just lay it out there for him. Why we couldn’t. And what we would need to make it work. He already knew a little bit about Trevy. And our seizure saturated life. But that’s another story altogether.
deep down I know a major part of the problem for us is how very private we are. I mean…I bought one-a those medical ID bracelets. But it’s still in the desk. Blank. After Trevy’s great escape I did take it out with good intentions. Only to pause…cause we’re weaning meds. Which is really just a good excuse. The fact is…I’m not sure how comfy I am with the idea of a glaring note to the world that my son is different.
And besides we don’t want to mooch help. You know…play the sick kid card.
But this is our reality. Seizures consume so much of our life. And by consume…I do mean take away. Reduce. Steal. Rob. Leave us with less to give. Of time. Energy. Money. Emotion. Everything.
And the fact of our reality is…we could use help. Help would help. Our super hero powers are running on low.
So we reluctantly said yes. To Help. Evidently the fourth time’s the charm for the Foltzie Fam.
Of course…skeptic me is waiting to see how the whole help thing pans out.
Meanwhile sappy me was really touched by the offer. Not by family. Or friends. But just a guy in the community. Who hardly knows us. But wants our kid to play ball. I mean…come on…makes you sappy too doesn’t it?!
Anyway…we’re on the last day of the first (of three) tourn-ie. And our boys are rockin’ it!
Three and O.
Oh and I’m happy to report that the offer the help out has already panned out at least once.
It was so incredibly hard to let Tobes hop into Coach’s car. With Coach’s wife & kids. But not me.
I cried after we drove our separate ways.
That was really hard on my heart. Letting Toby go to a game without me. Even though I knew Jonathan would be up after work. I always told myself I would never miss anything important in my kids lives. But that was before seizures…
Seizures suck. Really really suck.
So if our boys win two outta the three games today…
it means a TROPHY! Toby’s all tingles and nerves.
And it makes me proud of us. For accepting help. And that because we did…Toby gets to feel like a normal kid. An all american baseball kid.
It’s nice you know. To feel like for once at least the seizures aren’t stealing every single thing…
And that at least Toby gets a little slice of normal.
ps. these pictures were snapped during the one & only Saturday game of the regular season. Where we were able to be together…as a family. That was a happy day.