There's no crying in baseball...

An iconic line from a great movie. But it turns out that yesterday, at Josiah's first baseball game of this fall season, I found this not to be the case. Of course, it didn't have so much to do with baseball as it had to do with the quiet raging battle inside me. Watching your kids, seeing so much of yourself in them, can really be eye opening.

Elijah, I have an easier time watching because he is friendly and outgoing and most people naturally like him. He is a mix of Frank's dad and my mom. He can be a little shy but for the most part, he is likable and genuinely likes people. Josiah, on the other hand, is more like me and Frank. He is smart, more reserved, quiet, not easily moved, gets stuck on things, likes things to be in a certain place or order, anxious and nervous at times. Watching Josiah out there getting ready for the game with his coach and teammates, all of sudden such emotion came over me. I felt like crying. Of course, most of you would say it's just the pregnancy but it's more than that. Being pregnant I guess just heightens it. He was trying so hard. But every time he would be standing off by himself or looking awkward or anxious, it brought me back to my experiences growing up.

I was very shy and reserved. And I tried so hard for so long to be accepted by the popular or cool kids. I wanted so bad to fit in with them. And watching Josiah made me remember how it felt...to feel so awkward and to be so nervous to do the wrong thing in front of others. I remember playing a couple sports and how anxious I was...not just of playing well, but I wanted them to accept me. I wanted to be part of the "in" crowd. But I was just another regular player, nothing special about me. No great personality, no special skills on the field...nothing to set me apart. I always felt left out, I was just there. This was probably the main reason I quit every sport I started. It was a horrible feeling. And I guess the same could be said about high school and friends in general. I always had a couple of really close friends but felt like an outsider to the rest of the world.

So now I look at Josiah and I think, what could I really do to ease this for him or help him with this? The truth is, I have no idea. Because in life today, I still struggle with these same battle of inferiority. Deep down, I still want so badly to be accepted but the years of hurts have made me so hardened, that I pretend that I don't care. I want to say, this is who I am and if they all don't like it, that's just too bad. And that I am happy with who I am and what I have to offer. But I don't really feel like this at all. Time after time, even now, my inferior feelings of self worth cause me such pain. I don't want this for my son. And I don't want it for me. I am finally, after these many years, trying to work out all these things. I need to help me before I can know how to help him. So I am working on it. It's amazing how we will never do things for ourselves, but when it involves our children, we will do anything to make it better.

Moving On

I can't believe my baby is now 3 years old. I  don't know where the time has gone. This got me thinking. As parents, we are supposed to guide our kids and help them figure out who they are. The ironic and crazy part of this is that here I sit, at age 33 and I'm not even sure who I am. Even after all this time of living and learning, I still feel left out, not fitting in. It's like continual high school (ugh). I try to make friends. It just doesn't happen easily for me. I try to reach out. But after so many disappointments - invitations accepted but not returned, invitations declined, being ignored, promises broken - I can say that I am disillusioned with people in general. I always wind up blaming myself. There must be something wrong with me. I must have done something or maybe I'm just not worth hanging out with. But I'm tired of beating myself up. I have worth, just like everyone else. So what makes me so forgetful? so easy to ignore? I wish I knew. Sad to say, most of the Christians I come across make me feel the same way. In fact, there are probably 2 real friends I can say that I have and neither of them even attend church. There is something wrong with this. Churches are too clickey (if that's a word). Everyone gets in their groups and it's impossible to break through. I think there comes a time when you just have to resign yourself and realize it's not worth trying anymore. When your hurt time and again and no-one even notices, it's time. Moving on is hard. And no-one likes change. But I really need someone to restore my faith in people.