Cindy Bodie's Biggest Adventure

The Braves were asked about some of their particular superstitions in a Q & A yesterday, I'm not a superstitious person as a rule, except in baseball.  Not even then totally, other than fearing jinxes when someone's up to bat in a potential grand slam play.  Or bringing in some of the relief pitchers at crucial times, or when someone who's struggling comes up to bat, OK, never mind, maybe I am.

Daniel also never dreamed of such an opportunity that came upon him yesterday and he handled it superbly, quietly and clearly in charge.  Such a really, really fun day.  I was practically pinching myself.

An Army Major there had asked us why our family's not on TV nor getting acknowledged in some way.  "We decline all offers," Daniel'd responded automatically.  I adopted my kids to parent them, not to showcase them, anything else doesn't appeal to me at all.  Our ups are really ups, our downs are awful.  Daniel'd told the men there in that control room about our family at work certainly, but I wouldn't have mentioned it yesterday at all, other folks likely thought I was Megan's mom.  This was about baseball, not adoption.

However when Daniel'd acknowledged me as his mom, I, of course, beamed as the Braves all looked over at me and smiled.  Oh MY!  I nearly fainted.

"You always come back home giddy after you've been to a Braves game," Tabby pointed out yesterday.

"A Braves function," I corrected her.

And most surprisingly there were no paybacks delivered to me for having had the gall to have had a good time without my other kids.

Daniel has the coolest boss, a true handsome, Southern gentleman, who has taken Daniel under his wing, no - bad analogy, this man doesn't baby nor protect Daniel, rather he allows Daniel up close and personal to see how things work, which then allows Daniel to do what he does best, which is to shine.  He's always been a quick learner, he always looks for problems to solve, he's always been greatly curious about how things work, learning and absorbing information on the spot, figuring it all out.  I've watched him do this even as a little boy so many years ago.

At any rate Daniel couldn't have found a better job, as I doubt that one exists for a man his age.

I'd taken the retirement of Bobby Cox right hard, that one game that one night in October 2 years ago, when Brooks Conrad made THREE errors, knocking the Braves out of the playoffs, denying Bobby Cox a last run for the World Series, I'd been there with Megan and Daniel, stunned into silence at the end. I wouldn't have wanted to be Conrad's mom that night.  Good golly, boy.

This new guy, Fredi Gonzalez?  I was prepared to like him a lot, as he'd clearly been chosen by those who respect the opinion of Bobby Cox, and I've greatly enjoyed the last two seasons as he filled some gigantic shoes.  I'd retired my Cox #6 shirt back then.  Hey, that's it.  I'll make a Gonzalez shirt

Yesterday I could see why and how he's done it with such ease.  What a dadgum genuinely nice man, smiling, friendly, gregarious, and clearly having a good time with all the National Guardsmen.

A huge amount of my love for baseball came from those ten wonderful years of watching Daniel play Little League and high school baseball, but baseball itself has always appealed to me.  I watched the Braves falter and stumble through the 70s and the 80s, then becoming huge in the 90s.

Hardly ten days until Spring Training, I'm so so excited.  "Don't come crying to me when they choke in September," a man I know had flatly stated, then making a huge turnaround, "Let's go to Spring Training one year."

Um, I don't hang with fair weather fans.  Either you're in or you're out.  I take baseball seriously.

My big conflict now comes from a hat I'd been given yesterday, a super nice Braves baseball hat, but the players all signed it yesterday, would I wanna wear it in the sun where it could fade?  I'd been so excited that I'd left Atlanta without my signed baseball that Daniel'd worked so diligently to obtain.  At least he has it, I'll see him in another week.  I'd left Atlanta on Cloud Nine.

"I'm Daniel's Mom," a T-shirt design percolating in my head.

My college bound daughter is conflicted in a major way, not wanting to leave the nest, nor our food.  Our food?  Yep in front of all the others last night, "I'm not excited about a dorm room nor cafeteria food," as if that's the real issue in a sweetheart who's only had a mom for 8 years.  I'm Sabrina's Mom.  Yep, I need some new t-shirts.

I do get it, I truly do, and I'm glad she can see it, yet this decision has to be hers, and hers alone.  "Just tell her to stay at home and commute," another daughter told me yesterday.  No, no can do, because then I'd have to shoulder the blame when she lost her temper or got frustrated at any one time, then I'd be blamed for not 'letting' her go away.

She's leaving tomorrow for a college weekend there which should cement her decision, that's my prayer.  Another guy friend had called, asking what he could do for her, my response was for him to pray for some clarity for her, he's a dad too.  What parent doesn't want clarity and knowledge for their kids?

CW has started at Kroger already, very happy with his venture into adulthood, reminding the folks there that he's only 16, his height and his beard makes everyone think he's so much older, he's got to remember to get his work permit today.  I'm CW's Mom, etc.

Daniel had said he was gonna pretend that he was just talking to CW when he addressed the Braves, the players are so dang young.  The room in which my genius son works is a major console of media, cables, instructional technology, communications, and computers - so perfectly his milieu - and the folks he addressed were fascinated.  That I was privileged enough to stand and watch blew me away.  It was Family Day and when he acknowledged having his mom and his wife there, waving his hand in our direction, yup I nearly swooned.