I am in Atlanta. For those of you who know me, I don't travel much for work, so this is really novel. I woke up before the kids were up on Sunday and headed out, and I won't see them until Thursday when they wake up... if they wake up before I leave for work. That's hard, but not impossible.
The day before I left, Abby played in the All-Star softball game. Unfortunately, they lost. Not the end of the world. Abby pitched great, and fielded amazing. And her hitting... Well, that was another story. The first time up she struck out looking. And the second. And the third. The umps at this age have a huge strike zone, but I told her she could never blame the officials. She was so disappointed and, as they put her as clean-up batter, they expected her to do something. She knew they expected her to do something, but she just couldn't do it. I honestly think she gets anxious. She wound up crying and unhappy the rest of the afternoon. Unfortunate, considering she made the All-Star team.
Fast forward to tonight. Abby had another game, and of course I'm in Atlanta. She's hit amazing the first have of the season. Doubles, Triples, Homeruns... usually a combination of all every game. Tonight? She struck out. Dave was there and just beside himself. Abby senses he's upset and performs worse. And cries. And tells him, "I wish Mommy were here!" It's truly heartbreaking. I don't know how to handle it. I want her to be good. I want her to try her best. I want her to be a good person, and I want to not care if she plays crappy softball. But when I know she can play better, and she's disappointed in herself, that's where I get caught up. I just want to will her the self-confidence to be able to do it. Someday...
And then there's this girl. I got this picture with a text that she keeps asking, "Where Mommy go?" Heartbreaking in a different way!
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