Stage Mother

Who out there would have thought that I have the personality to become a 'stage mother'?  I am sure you've seen this obnoxious gal at a variety of events......the chick at the gymnastics meet that has put her toddler's hair into knots so complicated an accomplished old sea dog couldn't get them out, the baby's hair is strained at the roots, scalp barely able to hold on to the follicle.  Said child has glitter and makeup galore......and mother is uptight and pushing the child to excel beyond what her short, roly, two year old legs are capable of.  How about the parent that goes ballistic at the soccer game and goes to fists with the coach out on the field?  I would like to tell them to get a grip......it's only a game! 
Little League season is starting here.  Our lives will be held at gun point until June by the rigid schedule of games and practices.  Truth be told.....I don't really like have my life run by a sport.  You should get the feeling here that I'm not really even a fan of a game that I am not personally playing in.  Watching other people play sports is very much like watching another person play a video game........it's lame.  But when Maimy and I go out on opening day, when our girl is on the mound or up to bat.....Maimy can literally lose control.  (If it ever comes to the point where we are prosecuted for assault on a ball field, I WILL pretend I never posted this.)  If we are your friend in our regular lives, yet you have a child on an opposing team.  We are not your friend now.  Do not approach us at the ball field.  Do not sit on our stands.  Do not sit where we can hear you......especially where Maimy can hear you.
I have the heart of a marshmallow.  I try to do my visiting teaching.  I bring treats to nursery and read the little tykes stories.  I kiss and cuddle all 25 kids in my class at school.  I hope people don't look at me and hate all of the other Mormons they know just because they know me.  But please allow Maimy this one moment (or 2 months) of firey emotion.  She wants to win.  She doesn't want you to win.  I will cheer.  She will scream.  We will bash the umpire.....with enough restraint as to not be lead away in handcuffs.  When The Fire pitches, Maimy might, in  a loud voice, give her tips on what to do better.  When The Fire is up to bat, Maimy may become vocal when she wants her to swing.  We will only allow her to cry if she takes a fast pitch to the kidney......you know "There's No Crying In Baseball!!!" 
I'm already getting uptight.......Maimy can feel baseball in the air.