Connie's Cup of Joy: B is for Ball. F is for Fearless.

Balls. Everything is a ball. If its round, it is to be played with. The Christmas Tree Ornament that completely shattered everywhere when thrown to the ground expecting it to bounce back up. Easter Eggs were balls that cracked and didn't work in this kids eyes.

Maximus, whom I refer to as my Grand Finale, is child number four. My "if- I- didn't- do- it- right- with- the- other- three- kids, now- is- my- chance- to- make- it- up" finale. Moms, you know when you're done, you're done, and once we had four, we were good to go with completing our family, hence "grand finale".

Every child is different, most moms know. Our first son was the easiest, laid back, calm, went with the flow, a few separation challenges here and there that we all got thru together, just an easy going kid for the most part. My girls in between, well, that was all a blurr. I had them a year apart from each other all while selling and moving into a new home (another chaos story that we made it through!). Now my little man Maximus. When one of us gets upset with him, the others are there backing him up or taking him by the hand letting him know its ok. #4, yup, the love of all of our lives in this house.

So back to the balls, we did what anyone would do when they see their child has an interest in an activity, we signed him up for the Team! The big leagues, also known in our town as the "Mighty Mitts". That's right, it was time for this 3 year old to step up to the plate and we all knew how ready he'd be. We were excited about this big day for our guy. He was always running around with us to sport practice here, dance rehearsal there, acting as the families biggest fan no matter where we were headed, soccer, baseball. Now it was his turn and we all couldn't wait. Our endless "pitch to me" days were all put into play now.

So this is how the big day went...

"Maximus, grab your baseball glove!" He was all kinds of excited, moms going to play baseball with him! (So he thought) We get in the car, smiles all around, we pull up to the field, he sees about 25 his size people with baseball mits in hand, tennis shoes on, no emotions setting in yet, he's staring out the window at all the kids on the field. I turn the car off, get out to unbuckle his seat and he begins,you got it, his "grand finale".

I unbuckle his car seat and he immediately scooches to the other side of the car (its a big vehicle so I can't just reach and grab him). After running around the vehicle from side to side I finally jump in, grab him and pull him to the field kicking and screaming. Reallly!??! I kindly ask the coach her name and do an introduction thinking he'd warm up, oh no, he hid behind me. He even took the time to whip his glove out into the field letting me know he's done and its time to go. I grabbed my chair, put my crazy mom hair back in place, took a deep breath and sat down. I kindly requested he get the glove off the field and he, of course, unwillingly did with tears streaming down his face. Don't get me wrong, inside I was throwing him out on that field and running as fast as I could making a quick get away hoping no one would notice the lunatic mother. But realistically, I got my head together and thought...

"what can I do right at this moment to never make him afraid to come back to this field again?"

I attempted to put him in line while they were learning to run bases. He grabs the gate holding on to it for dear life, I'm grabbing his hands, peeling them off the fence line. He's screaming, I'm not saying a word, I only have one goal in mind, "Get this kid to the line up." Yup, I was officially that mom, proud as can be taking her screaming son down to 1st base in arms, still kicking and screaming. Nice, now I've really done it. He was not having it. I was not leaving this stinkin 45 minute practice! Too much sweat put into it at this point to quit. I went to sit back at my chair, he sat behind me on the ground hiding, he even attempted going back to the car alone all awhile I stood my ground not leaving my post. I waited until practice was done. We signed him up for the team and I was not leaving until his team was done practicing. I was in the "leave no man behind mode." Practice had come to an end, I calmly folded my chair up (but I think the smoke out of my ears was noticeable) and we went home to find him running to the back yard saying, "Mommy, play baseball with me!" and that's when this mommy officially. lost. it.

Anyway....we went back again the following week.... Here's my point...

He went, with his two sisters at his side and he knew I was not leaving until this practice was over. He sat at the bench unwillingly and I told him he had to show his sisters how great he plays baseball on a team. With a little more bribery of a treat if he played (hey I was desperate at this point). He hit the ball, he ran to 1st, then to 2nd, then to 3rd with the coaches directing and cheering him on to each destination. He made it home and yes,

I was THAT Mom,

meeting him at the home baseline picking him up and spinning him around as if he just won the World Championship and I didn't give one squat about the Chatty Cathie's in the stands or that he was just 3 years old! It was his 1st home run (mind you they only get to run one base at a time with each batter).

But it was more than a home run for this family, it was Maximus getting out there with the other kids, making it happen. And this mom. Well, this mom was so proud, learning that one patient step at a time, we didn't quit on each other. I did my job of making him fearless and one step closer to doing it all on his own.