Max could not wait to get back to the baseball field after school. He asked if his friend from yesterday, Alexander (which he somehow remembered and pronounced!) would be there, but unfortunately he was not. There was, however, a little league practice going on, which was great until Max got booted off the field. But before that, Max got in some pitches off the mound and even directed daddy where to stand [albiet incorrectly on home plate]. He wished he could stay on the field with the big boys, but once the practice started he liked watching it. One of the coaches even gave Max a baseball, which he now refers to as the, "that's so nice of that man ball".
In contrast to nice, nighttime is still dreadfully loud and lasting past 9:00pm; yet somehow morning is starting earlier than ever at 6:15am. On the bright side, pre-meltdown story time was very sweet. Max noticed a birthmark on mommy's arm and said, "Can you take that off, mommy?" and, "Does that hurt you, mommy?". No, I thought, but your crying does.
"Go to home plate, daddy"
Watching practice is fun, too!
Max insisted on bringing his "Uncle Jordan ball", signed by Don Mattingly, to the field.
