The thing about having two young children is that they cannot understand the importance of a baseball game, especially one being played in September. The playoffs are in sight, the tension is high, and the fans are whipped into a frenzy. All plusses, I might add.
And I will also add that those plusses are totally lost on my children, who still see baseball as a funny game played by men wearing funny pants. This is, as far as I can tell, the only gulf between us.
All of which necessitates certain rules my children must abide by when I am watching a game, namely to leave me alone. Harsh, I know. Also true.
That said:
Last night. Middle of the seventh inning, score tied, runners in scoring position. A crucial point in the game.
“Daddy,” asks my daughter, “can we play Simon Says?”
“Okay,” I mumble, carefully maneuvering her away from between me and the television.
“You go first!” she shrieks.
“Simon says sit here beside me and watch the ballgame.”
She sits. And waits. A fly ball to shallow center field is not enough to score the runner from third, and I release an exasperated exhale.
“Daddy?”
“Sorry,” I answer. “Okay, here we go. Stand up. Rub your nose. Stick out your tongue.” I keep going, careful not to preface the commands with “Simon says,” thereby keeping her beside me where she will not interrupt.
“You’re not playing right,” she says.
She’s right, and I know it. But a strikeout ends the inning just then, and I figure I can squeeze in three commercials worth of Simon Says before the game comes back on. I decide to go on the offensive. When you can’t convince your children to be quiet, the best course of action is to wear them out.
“Stand up,” I tell her. “Simon says stand up. Simon says run around the room. Stop. Stop. Simon says stop. Simon says do jumping jacks. Stop. Simon says stop. Simon says jump up and down. Stop. Stop. Simon says stop.”
We’re done. My daughter collapses in a heap of pajamas beside me just as the music plays and the announcers welcome me back to the game.
I lean back into the sofa and offer myself a satisfied smile.
“Daddy?” she heaves.
“Yeah, Pumpkin?”
“Remember the first time we played Simon Says?”
I turn to look at her. Funny, I don’t remember.
She smiles. “We were outside and the sun was shining and there was a bird singing in the tree. We played Simon Says and then we washed the truck and I sprayed you with the hose. You screamed and then I said it was the best day ever.”
Oh.
“And you know what, Daddy?”
“What?”
“This Simon Says was even better than that one.”
She nestles into the crook of my arm and wraps my hand around her. My fingers dance up and down from the beat of her heart. Our game has turned out to be quite the workout. Hers was physical. Mine? Something else.
Sitting there feeling her heartbeat, I realize that an appreciation for baseball is not the only gulf between my children and me. There is also a larger one, and it is the manner by which we define our moments.
Because to me the crowning moments of parenthood involve such things as the first step and the first day of school. But to my daughter they also involve such things as washing the truck on a summer day and five minutes of Simon Says between innings of a baseball game.
Which can mean only one thing.
There are no small happenings to our children. Everything matters. Every word said, every deed done. To them, every moment is a moment of truth.
“That really was the best Simon Says, huh?” I ask her.
She nods a smile and exhales an “Awesome.”
The crowd erupts as the home team breaks the tie with a sacrifice fly, upping both the tension and the importance of the final innings. As I said, a crucial point in the game. Seasons are on the line.
But so is the season here on the sofa between my little girl and me. We are at our own crucial point in the game. And just like the game I’m watching, sometimes the game in parenthood is won by a timely sacrifice.
I turn the television off and toss the remote onto the cushion beside us.
“Let’s play again,” I say.
‘Stadium at Sunset’ photo by Joe Y Jiang. Used under Creative Commons License. Post written by Billy Coffey.
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“My fingers dance up and down from the beat of her heart.” I remember that feeling so well – thanks for memories of many years ago! Awesomeness again, Billy.
Oh yeah. How many times have I gone on the parenting offensive?
Well, we do need our times to refresh and focus. But then there’s this.
Good, very good – I needed a reminder to close my laptop when I talk to my teens, not just glance at them every now and then.
“There are no small happenings to our children. Everything matters. Every word said, every deed done. To them, every moment is a moment of truth.” – So true. I overheard a conversation between my mom and dad when I was a child that really affected me in a profound (and not in a good) way. As much as I sometimes think my kids don’t listen to a word I say, the reality is that they are listening very carefully. Loved this post, Billy. Congrats on the HCB gig.
Great truth! As parents it seems we are always waiting for the “big” moments. I agree with you, for our children, those “big” moments are often in the little things. Everything they take in helps shape them into who they are becoming, even the not so seemingly good stuff…UGH!! The good news is, I like to believe that God will use ALL of the stuff for our good and theirs, someway, somehow, someday! Great Post, Billy, always is!
Perfect.
Very good points, indeed.
Awesome, Billy. This will hit us parents right upside the head. “TURN OFF THE TV AND PLAY WITH ME.” You are so right about those “everything matters” moments. And they keep slipping right by. My daughters are now 14 and 17, and all of those every moments are mostly piled up in their spirit somewhere by now, since they are becoming more independent young ladies. But I often find myself wondering, “Was I a good enough Dad?” My wife hates when I ask it out loud. “Of course!” She says, “You were a fantastic dad! Just look at your daughters!”
She’s right about that, anwyay. They have turned out to be marvelous young women.
Aren’t our children always the best teachers?
P.S. Thank you for that wonderful comment on my blog.
Billy,
You are a blessing! Maybe someday that little gal will sit with you every bit as excited as you over the game. In our house we all know my husband is a sports nut. Born in Minnesota a true Minnesota fan through and through to all Minnesota sports but the Vikings are near and dear to his heart. I watched many a time while he sacrificed football time for little fellas … now those little fella’s are big guys who happily hoot and hollar and high five him when they all watch together taking turns wearing the horns bought for dad last birthday.
A great reminder to be willing to toss the remote and our agenda to engage with our kids!
Oh man…..this was awesome to read.
What a great reminder to all of us as parents to savor every moment.
Aw. Baseball and her Daddy’s little girl. I can’t imagine how beautifully she’ll remember her days with you.
You really nudged me to lose my laptop and smother some baby raspberries on my boys.
Thanks, Billy!
Wonderful thoughts as always. It’s a humbling thing to see the world through the eyes of a child…
Great challenge Billy! It made me stop and think about how I am treating my daughters …
Do you really keep a pile of pajamas beside you for your daughter to collapse into?
Great post, Sir Billy!
Awesome, Billy! Great words to take to heart.
Awesome post Billy! Thank you!
Lovely. Just wonderfully tender and amazing. It helps all the parents out here if one of us is duly observing and calling us not to miss the good stuff.
You do that well.
What a great story…and a wonderful lesson. Everything matters!
Great post, Billy! And a fine idea for wearing out our kids…
And now I’m all weepy.
Another post that will stick with me. Because…
What is so extra special about your writing is that it’s like seeing through the eyes of a child…seeing grace and beauty in moments that would go unrecognized by many.
I love it.
Billy,
Some of my best family memories from my childhood are not about my parents buying things for me and my sibs, or taking us to high-dollar places. My happiest memories are of the times our family was together…doing simple things…and our parents were focused on us. Plain and simple.
Bill and I worked hard as parents to make the same kind of memories for our boys.
You’re a great parent and an awesome writer, Billy Coffey!
Precious lesson, bless you.
Beautiful
As always, a wonderful and though-provoking post, that makes me do more than just sit and think, it moved me to action–so I went and had a good long snuggle with my boy!
Thanks so much, Billy, for the reminder on what the good stuff really is.
i would say, your team won.
“Every word said, every deed done. To them, every moment is a moment of truth.”
This is powerful … and a little daunting.
I thank the Lord for His grace extended to me in the midst of parenting–for one thing, He has given me children who extend grace to me when a word or moment wasn’t as joyous or focused as it might have been. He also gives me grace to wake up and recognize opportunities to connect with my kids.
Thanks to your writing, your family, your parenting, and your story, I’ll be sure to slow down and make a moment. I’ll proactively connect. Laugh. Play. All day long, I’ll be thinking about Simon Says. In fact, I’m thinking about it right now:
“Simon says … get off the computer and play checkers with your son, Ann.”
I’m so glad you are writing here, Billy. The vocation of parenting is perhaps the most important in shaping all of the other vocations we enter.
Looking forward to more.
I like that Ann mentioned grace, because I know that I have failed many times to be fully engaged or enthusiastic or thoughtful in my role as mother to 5. I have fears and doubts and guilt as I’m sure we all do. Bradley touched on my sore spot… that if my children are turning into wonderful adults then I must have a good win /loss record right? Because I know that I behaved and wore a mask and grew up and away and broken. Faith and tears and faith. I think having 2 children away at school who call me just because, and ask my advice, and have their friends in and out and asking us to help them too… well these are the things that are sealing the cracks. Geez, Billy, now you’ve made me cry.
“There are no small happenings to our children. Everything matters. Every word said, every deed done. To them, every moment is a moment of truth… sometimes the game in parenthood is won by a timely sacrifice.”
Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life…
Thanks Billy – like your daughter said, awesome.
Thanks, Billy. I’ve become a recent fan of you writing through a friend. Great reminders of the obvious that I’m too wrapped up in my own world to see. One thing did strike me though. FIVE MINUTES of commercial breaks between innings?!? We cut our cable in 2006 and I hadn’t realized the game had slowed that much to ‘pay a few bills’!
So much truth here. Wow.
WOW! I wanted to cry when I read your post. The time we have with our kids is so short… no game, job or other activity is more important than shaping our children by spending quality time with them. Showing them that we’re listening to them, speaking *to* them and not *at* them and embracing their unique personalities help guide them into the destiny God has designed for them. Is there any better result than that? I don’t think so! Thanks, Billy, for your wisdom and helping us parents (and grandparents) recognize what’s really important.