tee ball

We have been having so much fun in Boise that I haven't even been taking pictures. Because apparently I don't care to remember our time here.
Which is not true at all...but because of my laziness, I am having to share things that happened several months ago.  Which I did document with pictures.  And which I should have documented on our blog.
I'm all about organization.

Side note: Apparently I was rather vague in my blog/facebook announcement of our temporary move to Boise.  So, in order to clarify, our ENTIRE family came to Boise TOGETHER...Dylan came with. 
And he and I are happily married.
Still.
Even though apparently I didn't previously mention that. 
He is doing his first of 4 rotations in Boise, so we made the move to be closer to family for the summer months. 
We are still a big fat happy family.

Before we left Forest Grove (all together, just to reiterate), Dawson and Harper played tee ball.
They LOVED it.

Except for the last game when Harper refused to play.  Which happened to be the only game when I remembered my camera.
See?
Organization I tell you.

I decided not to force the issue.
I'm learning to pick my battles with that little girl.
Like last week when we had the following conversation:

Harper (age 4): Aunt Jennifer, do you smoke cigarettes?
Jennifer: No.
Harper: I can't wait until I'm old enough to smoke cigarettes.

Awesome.
It was definitely one of my prouder parenting moments.

Back to tee ball...they loved it.  Harper demanded attention from everyone in attendance, choosing to walk slowly around all the bases while everyone anticipated her arrival at home base. 
To which she would smirk, and then swat at the base. 
All the while making a 'I couldn't care less' face that she has, in my opinion, mastered. 

We loved going to watch the kids play and see our little ball players out on the field.
Like this little boy, who only got better as the season went on:

player #8, dawson hatfield.

batter up.

home run.
in tee ball, a home run = any contact with the ball.

going home.

outfield.
is it just me, or is he the most handsome boy?

thanks to my lens, i was able to see the conversation between dawson and his opponent.
dawson: stop hitting me.
opponent: i don't have to.
dawson: if you touch me again, i'm going to punch you in the face.

i'm not lying.  and i'm pretty sure he meant every word.
don't mess with the hatfields.

And while Dawson was playing and I was being the paparazzi, there was one loyal fan who always went along.
He cheered.
He clapped.
And sometimes there was a bit of sulking.
Just a little. 
And only because he was so desperate to get out on the field and play.
 

beckham standing behind home plate.

it was torture for him.
he would sit on the team bench and just stare.
heart. breaking.

Every now and then, he would get sick of hoping waiting and would finally go find something else to do.
Like play a game of catch with himself.

And sometimes a little red hair girl who couldn't care less about tee ball, would have a brilliant plan to help distract the boy.

Because even though she didn't care about tee ball,
she did care about some things.

And she would give him under dogs.
And teach him to pump his legs.

And they would talk.

And even though he really wanted to be on the field with #8, everyone was happy.

xo,
tracy

ps: i got an iphone this week.  it's the MOST exciting thing.  i am finally a grown up.