It’s that time of year again. The sun is shining, birds are chirping, and baseball diamonds are a buzz with crazed baseball moms. That’s right, tis the season for fabulous, ball bag toting, bling shirt wearing baseball moms. You think dance moms have the supportive sport mom thing in the bag, oh now… baseball moms can get down and dirty with the boys while sporting perfectly applied eyeliner. Baseball moms are truly a unique breed.
You Might Be A Baseball Mom If…
- You shout actions in threes. “Go GO GOOO” … “Catch it, catch IT, CATCH IT” … “Run Run RUN”. Because a simple “run” wouldn’t do and saying it 4 times would be redundant.
- You invest in a wheely cooler to make it easier to tote around every flavor of Gatorade incase your little one runs out, another kid runs out, or there is another baseball hydration inspired emergency. Gatorade that you refer to by color: red, blue, yellow, orange. Do they actually have flavors, what flavor is blue anyway?
- You’ve spent hours bent over a table like a mad scientist getting bedazzler elbow from painstakingly gluing rhinestone onto tanks tops, t-shirts, and sweatshirts. Because “Hambones Mom” can only be properly represented in jewels and glitter.
- You stop referring to other adults by their names. In fact you may not actually know the other parents names. Everyone has become, “Nick L.’s Mom” or “Will the short stops dad”.
- You find yourself saying phrases like: “Way to get a piece of it.” “Michael stop playing with your cup.” and “Swing it like you mean it.”
- You can tell anyone the score of your kiddos last ball game, how many runs they scored, or how fast they pitch. BUT… you have no idea who’s starring in the latest Blockbuster (Channing Tatums abs right?), can’t name the last time you read a book (does Casey at Bat count?), or blank when someone asks you when the last time you spent a weekend not at a tournament (When Santa came to town I think).
- You’ve justified ballpark nachos as diet food. Nacho cheese is dairy and dairy is good for you right? I think I saw a commercial on TV that said that once.
- You have no issue becoming the Hulk and chewing out, in epic fashion, the 15 year old umpire you watched get dropped off by his mom before the game. It doesn’t matter that he’s trying to earn money for college and that he’s just a kid, the kid needs to get glasses because Charlie was clearly safe on third.
Baseball moms love’em or fear’em, we come around every spring and we don’t go away until fall. Without us, little league wouldn’t be so fabulous or feisty.