Sunday, May 13, 2007

I smell something burning...humm what could it be...oh it's my boys burning up the American Leauge Central Division...Yup that's right, time for me to brag a little on my Tigers. I have to say they are giving it their all and not without their share of adversity this season. It's good to know they are actively proving their race for the World Series last season was not some cosmic joke, or fluke.

With Rogers being on the disable list till at least the all star game many felt that the team might not hold it together till he returned. Not so, the players stepped it up in his absence and have played good hard baseball all season long.

This past week another pitching fatality---Joel Zumaya, our 100 mph plus relief pitcher ruptured a tendon in his pitching hand requiring surgury. Another one bites the dust. And on a less serious note Jeremy Bonderman cut a finger on his pitching hand this week pulling him off the starting line up for tonight.

Regardless, the boys are currently in first place a game and a half ahead of the Indians. I don't care who you are, this division is tight. If you look at the other divisions in the American Leauge and watch the standings, neither one of the other divisions are duking it out back and forth daily for that coveted fist place position. It's what makes the game fun. Keep kicking ass!
Ce-Ce emailed me this pic of Pudge with the caption "Umm, could you remove your hand from my junk, I think you are enjoying this a little too much"

The Gift

He handed me a box, a small black fuzzy box, almost light as air. Along with the box came a card. It's not an unexpected gift, more like a tradition. I know the contents already. Having already recieved 6 of these familiar gifts, one annually at this time of the year.

I recieved that first fuzzy box on Mother's Day 2001, barely pregnant with Aiden. It was supposed to be the start of a romantic tradition, a pearl to represent the beginning of a life. One to be added to the collection for each year of his life, to be given traditionally every Mother's Day.

Fate didn't provide for that opportunity to be a joyous one, and each year as I open the box and the accompanying card, it all just seems so bittersweet. So I slide the pearl onto the chain, a physical reminder that it's been six long years since my attempt and ultimate failure at parenthood. I open and read the card, and temporarliy put aside my jadded opinions of the giver of this gift, relishng in the compasion being afforded me this day. I despertely want to believe time can heal all wounds.

Moma Mia

Well it is officially Mother's Day. And this year this tradition of celebrating Motherhood seems a lot less cliquce than usual for me. This is the first time I think I really appreciate this typical selfabsorbed Hallmark Card Holiday.

I have been thinking a lot about my relationship with my Mom over the years. I think Mother daughter relationships go through distinct phases. As you move though your childhood on your way to becoming an adult the relationship is molded, as a child I thought my mother could do no wrong, god I idolized her. As a teenager I squabbled with her at every turn, it was almost a challenge for me, every word she said struck a nerve.I really was an ass.

But Now, as an adult, perhaps I've realized that my Mom can be an ally - and maybe even a friend. It amazes me how she can read me. How she can know, with just one spoken word my mood, whether I am anxious, sad, or worried. Too bad I can't find the strength to share the details of events that percipitate those feelings with her, instead of just acknowledging that I am feeling them.

The mother-daughter relationship has been called the strongest bond in human history, I definately think mine is moving in that direction.At least I hope so. In hindsight I wish I hadn't wasted so much time being indifferent to our relationship, time wasted that can't be retrieved. Time I am sure to one day reget letting slip away.

I love you Mom, Happy Mother's Day