Life is Like a Baseball Game

Life at our house is much like a baseball game.  Most of the time, it's a bit slow with occasional and sudden moments of intense frenzy and running around like looney-birds.  Also, at any given moment my kids scream out things like "POPCORN!,"  while John screams out, "BEER!"  And I am prone to blurting out "The Star Spangled Banner" at least once a day.  So, yes, our life is much like a baseball game.

We took Danny and Caleb to the season opener of the Red Wings on Saturday.  On Sunday, we enjoyed a musical and convicting service at our church, and then had a lovely dinner with family in Lockport, where I offended everyone by calling Jesus "the ultimate zombie."  Personally, I believe Jesus MUST have a sense of humor; otherwise, how do you explain the platypus? 

Some photos from the weekend:

I bought the twins sunglasses when March tricked me into believing sunny days would reign well into next November.

Oversized sunglasses are in.

Ella loves to pose.

My mom and sister arranged an Easter egg hunt. 



Not too old to search for candy.

Someone's mouth is full.

We decorated cookies.

 

Ben insisted my mom get out red sprinkles because red is his favorite color. This poor rabbit looks like it's been slaughtered.

 

Amazing blue skies.

We went to the Red Wings opening day on Saturday.
This is Daniel without a hot dog.

This is Danny with a hot dog.
You can draw your own conclusion. 
All right, I'll tell you.
Life is better with a hot dog. 

The kids are on spring break for the week, and let me tell you, I am going nuts.  Wherever I am, there's a child underfoot, begging me for a snack or tattling on Daniel. Poor Daniel is always the one who gets tattled on.  Caleb retreats into his own room to read or play by himself a lot of the time.

When you get Caleb alone, he is conversely really talkative and will share things on his mind.  He told John, "Dad?  I'm happiest at home.  I'd rather just stay home than go anywhere else."

Often, I give myself a hard time for not having a more organized life, a neater home, a stricter schedule.  But my kids- they don't seem to care.  They revel in the chaos and rest in the peaceful moments in between.

Life is like a baseball game.  It's dirty, hard, sometimes horribly predictable, sometimes full of surprises, the players always striving to get home. 

I'm glad my kids are home.