Warning: insecure dork emotofall coming.

It's hard to believe it's already summer, but Jacob's baseball season is almost over. He's done fine -- a bit overeager sometimes, but at least he's one of the three kids on his team actually paying attention to the game. In fact, I often say watching his team play is like seeing The Bad News Bears without the swearing.

Originally, I signed up to help coach with DH (since the league commissioner had sent out an e-mail in April, pleading for more parents to volunteer), but when four other dads showed up to coach, I dropped back into Team Parent mode and let DH handle the coaching at games. The rest of the coaches have sort of grudgingly accepted our presence; they're all so freakin' laid back that I have to encourage them to set practices.

Some of the other moms have been really nice, but I can't seem to really break the ice with most of them. I'm most upset about the mom of two kids Jacob really likes -- one who was in his class this year, and that boy's twin brother. The kids are really cute together --after the games, Jake and M always hug and want to play more. Their dad seems nice, if shy, but I can't make any kind of connection with their mom, and that drives me crazy (and the fact that it does, drives DH crazy). But not only does it bring my youthful geekiness floodng back, it worries me that my social status (or lack thereof) could impact my kids' social lives.

Apparently, there's an end-of-season bash thrown by each team, and I recently e-mailed the league commissioner to ask him the 411. However, I just received an e-mail from M's parents, inviting the team to stay after tomorrow night's game for a barbecue, in honor of their youngest son turning three. They're doing a big hot dog barbecue and handing out game balls to the whole team.

I feel usurped. I sent an e-mail saying "what fun! Can we bring anything?" but I don't know if I'll hear back. I don't know if I'm supposed to get a little gift for their son (I normally would no matter what), or if this takes the place of our end-of-the-year thing. Maybe I'll just bring popsicles to the last game next Saturday. I wouldn't mind doing a little thing to thank all the coaches but I'm not sure what. Oh, wait, just thought of something... but can't say it here, since one of the coaches may read this blog -- the only one whose opinion of me I really care about anyway.