I love my kids. They are both very different individuals, and I love every inch of their unique attributes. Lincoln at four years old is very affectionate and loving, and loves to snuggle. He takes care of his little sister, but he can also tease her until she cries. He loves to roughhouse with her like she is a brother, but he watches that others don't get too rowdy. He is cautious and quiet, observing most situations before jumping in when most other kids are running ahead. With family and friends he is funny and energetic, with a beautiful sense of humor. He is athletic and strong, and runs around the yard like a crazy man. He is always looking for dad, and waits desperately for the moment he finally gets home from work. When his hair grows out he looks like Wolverine from X-Men and tans as dark as Adam as soon as the weather warms up even with sunblock slathered on an inch thick.
Trinity is two, almost three coming up in June. She is like her brother in that she can be quiet and surveys an environment before taking a plunge. But, she enjoys her personal space and her own bed. She has always slept through the night, where as Lincoln still struggles to sleep eight hours straight without calling for mom. She is easy going and care free. She loves to laugh at her brother's jokes, and doles out hugs and kisses without reserve. She loves to help, and wants to be a part of daily chores and activities. She tans in the summer while running through the grass chasing after her brother, and her hair turns a beautiful blonde. She hates her hair getting brushed, and prefers two ponytails to one. She is my sweetheart, and a lover of babies.
We signed Lincoln up for baseball this summer, and he has started practices. The first practice went great, although he was a little slow to start. He waited to see how the others were acting before deciding how he would fit into the situation. By the end he was running the bases and hitting the ball like a big boy.
The second practice did not go as smoothly. He unfortunately fell asleep on the way to the diamond, and sleep is essential to Lincoln. I tried to roust him, and he woke crying that he wanted to go home. It also happened to be our snack night, not to mention we had missed the last practice-I did not know what to do. I couldn't really leave, but I hated to see Lincoln upset. Thankfully, Adam was able to show up that night, and we at least got to the field toting a stroller, two kids, two coolers, and a baseball bag (not sure how I would have done that myself even if Link had been feeling well). We walked up to where the other families were waiting for an earlier practice to wrap up, but Lincoln was not having anything to do with baseball. He was tired, grumpy, and his personality of being naturally reserved was working against him.
He finally went out grudgingly to the field, but as I went back and sat with my husband, Adam said it looked like Lincoln was crying. His back was to us, so I couldn't tell, but after walking back to him I could see his shoulders shake. He turned his face to me, and I saw his tear stained, blotchy cheeks and I felt horrible. He was miserable.
I pulled him aside and gently hugged him trying to calm him down. At this point I was about ready to leave the snacks and get out of there. But I asked one more time if there was anything I could do that would help him to finish practice. He said, "Mommy, can you please just stand over there and not leave me," pointing to first base. I did as he asked, and like a trooper, he finished an hour and a half long practice. The coaches were so patient and caring with him, and they were okay with me staying on the field. As long as I was out there, Lincoln was willing to finish practice. He still looked miserable the entire time, there were a couple moments I saw him tear up running the bases, and at one point he refused to bat, but he stayed out there the whole time and he put forth a good effort.
We may never do baseball again, but I'm proud of Lincoln for giving it a try even when he doesn't feel his best.
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