When I was a kid I never played the usual kid sports. I spent my childhood in the gym - four nights a week for 3 hours a night - practicing the balance beam and tumbling. I guess I just never had an interest in team sports; at least I don't really remember asking to play them. I started gymnastics when I was so young, and it took up so much of my time, I didn't really have any time to play other sports.
Logan, on the other hand, lives to play sports. He has been playing soccer for 4 years now and he LOVES it. Last year was his first year playing baseball. He was excited to play and, though it's not quite as physical as soccer, he had a great time. When I asked him this year if he wanted to play he said, "Yeah!" and then quickly asked, "I get to play with Jamieson, right?"
Now I don't know how many of you have kids in Little League but the rules and regulations around registration are just ridiculous. Apparently there must have been some kid, somewhere, playing in the wrong age group, or in the wrong city and all hell broke loose? (I'm guessing....why else would the process for registering your 7 year old for baseball be so arduous?)
So, when online registration was presented this year I jumped at the chance to fill out all of the forms from the comfort of my living room using my favorite form of communication. I created the account, filled out all of the information, paid my $75 and thought all was well. A few weeks later I received an email asking that I scan his birth certificate in and submit it to the registrar. I decided it would be easier (still having technical difficulties with the computer) to just swing by at one of the in-person registration sessions and present his birth certificate.
Today we were busy cleaning up the den so that we could get the garage sale stuff out to the garage and get the treadmill out of the living room. It was after noon and I was grubby, no makeup, and my hair was a mess so I diligently made copies of my 3 bills that show where I live, dug out Logan's birth certificate (the original - no copies allowed) and sent Brandon down to drop them off.
When he got home 45 minutes later he was reeling. Apparently the Little League requires nothing short of a blood donation, sperm sample, and fingerprinting to make it so that your kid can play! (OK, I might be exaggerating a little...) Brandon had to fill out a bunch more forms, he was totally unprepared because they needed a copy of his driver's license, Logan's Doctor's information, our insurance information, etc. And, the only thing I really wanted him to ask about which he forgot in light of all the other distraction, was that we were requesting Jamieson's Dad as his coach again this year. Hopefully that will work out though - I'm not too worried.
In spite of it all we did eventually get Logan all set for baseball. He doesn't have a clue what we have to do to get him to this point. As a kid he says, "yeah, I want to play," and then sometime in a few months practice starts and Mom drives him there. Was it like this when we were kids? Or do any of you even know since you were the kid saying, "yeah, I want to play?"
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