Mommy Blog

Swing, Batter-Batter, SWING!

in Giggles on August 2, 2021

Last night I was at a prayer vigil for some friends’ of mine newborn son. He was born about two weeks ago with an extremely rare genetic skin condition, and has spent the first sixteen days of his life in the NICU.

Our incredibly tight circle of friends gathered in our church’s chapel to pray for this little guy, but before the service started, a few of us were sitting around, giving thanks for our own children, and remembering some of their antics while growing up.

As I sat there reminiscing about my oldest, who recently turned twenty, my friend giggled and said, “I can’t believe he’s that old already! It really does seem like only yesterday when you told me about his Babe Ruth impression against the water main outside your house.”

Okay, let’s pause right here for a minute.

I’ve got a book coming out next month, the pages over-flowing with (what I thought) was allll of the top-prize-winning performances my children had turned in through the years. https://www.amazon.com/Why-Some-Animals-Their-Young/dp/1954861931/ref=sr_1_1?crid=NK1953QEXAC9&dchild=1&keywords=why+some+animals+eat+their+young&qid=1627936941&sprefix=Why+some+animals+%2Caps%2C174&sr=8-

How could I have left this one out?

When Ethan was in about fourth grade, he was at the HEIGHT of his baseball career. We lived in the back of a cul-de-sac, with a circular median in the dead center to provide a type of island in the middle of the end our road. In the middle of that little island of grass, was a water main which provided water to the sprinkler system that kept the one tree and grass alive on that island.

We thoroughly enjoyed living on a cul-de-sac. The street we lived on was loaded with other kids, and because it was not a through street, cars did not often fly down it, as though they were preparing for a NASCAR race. It was a safe place for them to play…until one day, when Emma came running into the house screaming:

”MOM! Something happened! We don’t know how! It just started spraying water all by itself!”

The water main was, indeed, spraying water about ten feet into the air. That part of her story was true. The “all by itself” theory—not so much.

I walked back into the house, retrieved my husband to see if there was something he could do, before we called the city, and the both of us surveyed the damage. As Jeff began looking for the shut-off valve, I began looking for the probable cause. I also took advantage of the sizable crowd of pint-sized witnesses who had now gathered around to watch.

Laying about five feet from our very own Old Faithful, was an aluminum baseball bat; haphazardly tossed, as though the batter might’ve been making a run for first base. I faced my crowd, “Anyone care to tell me how this really happened?”

Crickets.

My three little criminals, I mean, suspects, I mean, children staring blankly at the ground. The neighbor kids—every—single—one—of—them, knew better than to rat out their friends, suddenly and inaudibly heard their mothers calling them. Thankfully, Jeff got the water turned off. We found the top of the water main about twenty feet from its original resting place atop the main valve. We sent our MBA team to their rooms, while we sorted out the details.

Jeff was soaked to the skin, after finding the cut-off valve, I was trying so hard not to laugh too loudly, so the kids could hear me. We decided to convene in Jeff’s study. He just looked at me, and said, “How do they come up with this stuff?!”

Well, what the kids epically failed to remember was that our house had security cameras outside…we caught the WHOLE THING ON VIDEO.

Ethan strolled right up to the water main, as though he were the Babe, himself. He took his stance, rattled his bat, and SWUNG HARD…not once…not twice…but THREE times, until the top valve popped off.

It was at that moment, he realized that he’d done something very, very wrong. Chaos ensued. Kids went running. Emma headed straight for our house; I’m sure with the hopes that we wouldn’t figure out the real story. Too bad for them, we did.

We called the kids downstairs, offered them one last opportunity for confession. We had no takers. So, we showed the video. The color literally drained from their faces…that was sorta fun to watch.

But, then the hard part came: Discipline.

How do you discipline something like that? Which part? The destruction of property? The lying? Both? We ended up grounding all of them, with Ethan taking the lion’s share, since he was the one who actually struck the fatal blow. Raising kids is not for sissies. Kids do goofy, crazy, and just plain stupid stuff. It’s our job to guide them in the right direction.

But, just like last night’s events, more than anything, it’s our job to pray over them. Fixing a broken pipe is easy. Raising a child with a strong character and good heart is not.