Who knows how many more Saturdays like this one are left -- days when I get up early and drive one of my young athletes to a game. I only have one young athlete competing at the moment, so today she and I navigated our way down to San Carlos (a rich suburb in Silicon Valley) for her contest.
Her team played fairly well but lost 2-4.
A rematch in San Francisco is set for next Sunday afternoon.
As the boys get closer and closer to moving away for college, I realize how much of my youngest three kids' lives have occurred right here in this modest apartment in the Mission.
I also realize that nothing at all irritates me about my kids.
Not the habit of one to leave his dirty socks on the rug or his tooth-brushing residue in the same red plastic cup every night he sleeps here. Not his brother's propensity to stay out so late I have to leave a fresh $20 bill at the front door for his frequent taxi rides home, after the buses have stopped running. Not my daughter's habit of speaking beneath her breath so I cannot hear what she is saying.
Maybe the last habit doesn't bother me any longer because it has stopped.
Over the past few weeks, Julia seems to have found herself as a high school freshman. She has some friends now, and she has a report card of all A+s. She is headed into the honors track in numerous subjects, has placed out of Spanish2 to get into 3, and is doubling down on math to be able to take Calculus before heading to college three years from this August.
Today she played pretty well on the pitch, but at school she is even more competitive academically.
I like that. I like raising champions.
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