The boys' summer vacation officially started today.
The last day of school is never scholastic, nor should it be. Both classes had potluck brunches for the kids and parents, Ben's class gave out awards to each kids, a lot of hugs were given, some tears were shed.
Now summer really begins. We went to Noodles for lunch, got home ... and I didn't feel too good. I played a couple board games with the boys but didn't do too much else as my stomach churned. I got Ben to swim practice and Michael to his baseball game and started feeling better.
Michael's Cardinals lost a tournament semifinal 11-5. The team we played was huge, even bigger than us. We had one bad inning and stranded a few too many runners in what was otherwise a close game and only our second loss of the season. Michael is really struggling at the plate. He got hit by a pitch Friday -- his second HBP of the season -- and he's really freaked out. He walked on his first at-bat but had a ball sail toward his face. His second at-bat, he struck out looking, jumping out of the batter's box on every pitch. This is hitting close for me, because when I was 11, I got beaned in the right elbow the second game of the season and was never the same (if I ever get around to detailing that baseball season like I have the others, I'll explain more). I don't know what to tell him to get him overcome what he's fearing, because I never could myself (I stopped playing after age 11). He's braver than I am, and he knows he's a good hitter.
After the game, we went for frozen yogurt, then came home and watched the end of "Vacation" and an episode of "Phineas and Ferb." I walked the dog, then settled in on my porch with my laptop. The boys have 77 days before school begins again. It doesn't seem like a lot. Let the fun commence.