Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Touching the Bases

Literal Bases
After tonight's softball game, my son and I performed our ritual of running the bases together. He does this with a massive smile on his face, though he does tend to slow a bit between third and home. (Ah, but this gives me hope that he will actually sleep when we get home...)

We played kickball in p.e. in first grade. I was on third base. They told me to go home! I did. All the way -- to my house. Apparently, it's not called fourth base. The first of many experiences along those lines.

I spent a long time with a relatively abject fear of embarrassment. Now, strangely or not, I embrace it every week by playing softball. I'm not good at softball, which is exactly why I play. I play to prove to myself that it doesn't matter that I'm not good at it. I play to prove to myself that I can fail with an audience. I play to prove to myself that I have nothing to prove.

(By the way, I did hit the ball today.)

Not-So-Literal Bases
Lately, everything seems like a big box o' details, tasks, checklists, steps to reach the next box, or to at least be able to recycle an empty box among the many in need of attention.

First base: I filed for divorce a few weeks ago. I initially had reasons for waiting -- X needed to get settled, his mom passed away, he had a hangnail. None of these reasons came from him. I manufactured them with the best of intent, then just couldn't get my act together until I actually blocked time on my calendar. None of this has to do with second-guessing the decision. But now I've filed the papers with the court.

Second base: Next step was to serve him with the papers, which has to be done by a third party. My mom, son, X, and I went out for lunch on Sunday while my mom was visiting. When we got back to the house, I handed her the papers and asked her to hand them to him. (Everyone was forewarned and fully in support of the process, so to speak.) Done deal.

Later that evening, X and I took our son to see the holiday light display at Vasona. The smile on that kid's face can make the most jaded adult second-guess any doubts of Santa's existence.

Third base will be arbitration and writing up of the legal agreements. Fourth base (!) will be the official decree of the most amicable divorce known to the County of Santa Clara. We've ended the marriage, yet retained the friendship that was the foundation of our relationship and continue our partnership as parents.

Other Bases
Getting through the holidays, planning a vacation (I've idiotically stopped accruing vacation), working on my house, reminding myself to slow down, and on and on.

More boxes with little tasks in them. Hammer out the tasks, recycle the metaphorical boxes.

Touch the bases.

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