Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Not Your Average Baseball Mom

I want to start this story by telling you that none of the participants were driving on the day of this incident. We all have husbands, they were equipped with car keys and on that fateful July day they ended up using them.

This story took place the year that I signed my husband up to coach my son’s (6 year olds) baseball team. It wasn’t the best decision I ever made, but I was young(er) and naive.

In my defense, I really thought it would be fun for my husband to coach my son’s team. Turns out it was as much fun as having the flu. On an airplane. With the seatbelt sign illuminated. My husband was lugging around equipment, coaxing kids to wear their gloves on their hands instead of their heads and recommending that one or two actually swing the bat at the baseball instead of flies.

Not Your Average Baseball Mom - Baking In A Tornado


And being the wife of the coach was equally torturous. I experienced the joy of trying to get a group of parents to agree on a practice time and location. I was fielding phone calls, printing schedules, planning for snacks, giving out shirts, arranging for pictures, providing rides, buying trophies, planning the season-end party. . .

It was during this general time period that I had started a moms dinner group at my house. I sent my husband and kids out, usually with the husband and kids of one of the moms heading my way, and my friends and I had dinner at my house. Eventually we started taking turns hosting and when the group got large enough we moved to restaurants. It was a fun night and we all looked forward to it.

One Saturday night I had 15 friends over for one of these dinners. And, of course, there were cocktails as well. This night I had made a pitcher of my famous Raspberry Orange Margaritas. When the cocktails ran out before the evening was over, I happily made a second batch.

Since many of my friends had put their sons onto my husband’s baseball team, there was a large overlap of people in the dinner group who were also at the games. So the night couldn’t go too late since about half of us knew that we had to be on the baseball field the next day.

Raspberry Orange Margaritas should never go to waste. Let me just tell you that as an absolute fact, it’s not up for discussion.

So the next morning when I saw the pitcher in the fridge still 3/4 full, I knew exactly what my hostess duties were. I had a large insulated pitcher in my pantry just calling my name. Add some plastic cups and I had some game equipment of my own.

 Raspberry Orange Margaritas - BakingInATornado.com
Raspberry Orange Margaritas

I got to the game and gave each of my friends from the previous evening my version of a Mommy sippy cup, and we sat in the sun talking about the dinner the night before, what might be on the menu for the next Mom dinner and drinking our way through the pitcher.

It was going pretty well until we looked over to see a policeman standing by Julie’s car. In retrospect, that day may not have been the best day to park in an iffy spot. Her husband was out on the field helping with the kids and it looked like she was going to get a ticket.

I really have to pat myself on the back for my quick reflexes. As Julie jumped up from the bleachers and started to run towards the street to talk herself out of a ticket, I had the presence of mind (or the reflexes . . . whatever) to jump up as well and grab the drink out of her hand. Got your back, Julie.

Cause I’m fairly certain that it’s not a good idea to talk to a policeman on a Sunday afternoon on a public street where your parked car is in a questionable spot with a drink in your hand. Especially in front of your 6 year old.

Not Your Average Baseball Mom - Baking In A Tornado

I admit that I held MY breath as I hoped that cop couldn’t smell what was on . . . well . . . HER breath. I may have secretly been praying that he had left his handcuffs at home. I don’t know what Julie said, or even if her confidence was boosted by her liquid lunch, but the officer got in his car and drove away. He may have been shaking his head, but I can’t swear to it.

If there were any heart stopping plays on the baseball field that day, I missed them But when all was said and done, I have to admit that was the best kids’ baseball game I  .  . . ummmm . . . never saw.

Baking In A Tornado


Raspberry Orange Margaritas
                                                                                       ©www.BakingInATornado.com
 
Printable Recipe
 
Ingredients (makes a pitcher):
8 ounces tequila
3 ounces Patron Citronge
6 ounces Chambord
2 ounces sweetened lime juice
1 bottle (1 liter) Margarita Mix
OPT: lime juice and kosher salt for glass
 
Directions:
*Mix all ingredients together in a large pitcher. Refrigerate until cold.
*OPT: place kosher salt on a plate, dip the rim of the Margarita glass in lime juice, then salt.
*Mix the cocktail again before serving.

22 comments:

  1. I think I've mentioned to you before that there are a couple of things that I DON'T regret having missed out on after losing my kids. Organized sports is one of them! LOL
    I really wish I could try those margaritas... YUM!

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    1. I have to admit that when they're really little and just learning a sport its pretty fun (funny) to watch. But the schedules can be challenging and when they get older the competitive nature of the teams take a lot of the fun out of it. Margaritas do help!

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  2. My husband coached our boys soccer teams for many years. Wish I would have thought of this - to ward off the cold, damp Washington weather of course!

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    Replies
    1. Well, I have to admit that it wasn't an everyday occurrence, but it was fun.

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  3. I spend a lot of my free time at the ball fields. Out of 13 grandkids, 12 are playing ball this spring. T-ball to senior softball and I love it all (especially now that I just have to show up and cheer, not too loud of course they get embarrassed.)
    I feel silly that I haven't thought of providing my daughters and their friends refreshments. What a great idea, thanks!

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  4. Man! I wish your husband had been my son's coach! Sounds like a great time to me!

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  5. Best baseball game ever! You know what 6-year-old baseball is? Daycare with bats.

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    Replies
    1. Oh, I got a huge laugh out of that comment. SO very true.

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  6. Did you know my middle name was Margarita?! ;)

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    Replies
    1. No, but now that you mention it I'm not surprised. Wonder if I can change mine.

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  7. TOO FUNNY!!!
    I wish I had thought of that when my oldest was playing football!! But then again, some of those footballs moms were crazy!!!!

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    Replies
    1. Yeah, some of those baseball moms were crazy, some were fun, and some were. . . well . . . whatever . . .

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  8. This is exactly why I'm not involved in organized sports. Well, that & the fact that I'm not the most social of people. Anyway, unless our children-to-be's school(s) gets into competitive Thai-boxing, I'm totally exempt from having to coach anything.

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    Replies
    1. You never know, Thai boxing coaching could very well be in your future. Better stock up on Margaritas.

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  9. Now that's a good friend looking out for another! Mom sippy cups too! Those margarita's are calling my name this weekend!

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    Replies
    1. I hope you try them. They're my signature drink, we just love them.

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  10. It sounds like it's a lot of work to be a coach. I love this story and I love the Margaritas.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, it sure was a lot of work but I made my own fun!

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  11. I love how you handle baseball games, dinner parties and morning after parties, too!!

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