Once More Into the Breach

Or the T-ball field, whatever.

This year's team is only nine members strong.  Of those nine, seven of the kids are sweet and well-behaved.  And then there are the other two, who will drive me to snatch them baldheaded.

I'm the default dugout mom this year, primarily because Hublet is the official assistant coach, and the head coach's wife works 2nd shift at the local mental hospital. Insert your own joke there.

The positive aspect of managing the dugout is that it's helped me clarify my thoughts on what I have dubbed "Third Child Syndrome."  Apologies in advance to those of you have managed to raise 3 or more kids without it turning into your own personal version of Lord of the Flies, but know this - you are definitely the minority here. From my admittedly small sample, I have deduced that in many cases, by the time the third child comes along the parents are just too exhausted to deal with it, and so the child raises itself, often becoming feral in the process.  Think Mowgli without the jungle entourage.

The coach's son is an excellent example of Third (Feral) Child Syndrome, with a side of Potential Future Serial Killer thrown in for laughs.  He doesn't listen.  He is randomly violent.  He spent the entirety of last night's game attempting to zip himself into an equipment bag.  Full disclosure - I was EXTREMELY tempted to help him accomplish his goal, mainly so I could just hang the bag on the fence and not have to deal with keeping up with him. When I submit my final report on T(F)CS to the DSM-IV, this kid's photo will be included.

 Unfortunately, feckless parenting does not correlate directly to family size.  Nowhere is this more apparent than in the behavior of Belligerent Non-Listening Boy.  What does he do?  Please refer to his nickname for your answer.  He is defiant, whiny and incapable of listening.  He is also the eldest of two.  His parents, who attend every game, have no control over this kid, even though they try to intervene.  Well, the dad tries.  And he is a very nice man, which I believe dooms him to failure, because he cannot seem to make the carrot/stick approach work with regard to his son.  Or any approach, really.  I may suggest the Equipment Bag/Fence approach as a future option, primarily because I am tired of wresting a bat out of this flailing mess of a child's hands when we're in close quarters with other kids, peeling him off the fence, and rescuing caterpillars from his clumsy grip.  Seriously, he has cut a legendary swath of destruction through the local caterpillar population.  Combine him with Feral Child, and you may never see another butterfly in Johnston County.  Those two are like the Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun of anti-caterpillar warfare.

We have another month of T-ball.  At this rate, I'll end up in the mental hosptial and the coach's wife will be bringing me my meds during her shift.