Sometimes you strike out. Other times you are throwing the strikes.

Number 3 used to be my shy, quiet kid.

The one who would never, ever get in trouble.

Then, last year, he started to come out of his shell.

So much so that he was getting into trouble at school for being silly.

I was not happy.

Well, most of me wasn’t happy.

There was a small part of me was glad.

Because when he started kindergarten, he had some crippling anxiety issues.

So the fact that he was no longer sitting silently and nervously in a classroom for seven hours a day was kind of a good thing as far as I was concerned.

But something was going on for the shift in behavior to occur.

He was looking for attention.

We talked about getting attention for being a role model and following the directions.

For being a leader.

His teacher and I came up with a plan.

We tightened the screws, and his behavior went right back to being pretty much perfect.

Until about two weeks ago when his teacher emailed me. He was getting silly again.

And then there was the issue of the Chinese coin.

We talked again about acceptable ways to get attention.

But something else clicked for me just yesterday.

Number 3 and 4 are only 15 months apart.

One grade apart.

Number 4 is smart.

Really smart.

And everything in school comes easily to her.

Really easily.

She is a year younger than Number 3, but she reads better than he does.

She knows her multiplication facts better than he does.

And there is a direct correlation between when Number 3’s behavior in school changed, and when it became evident that Number 4 was academically gifted.

Both of these things happened at the same time.

In third grade in many school districts, students are given the OLSAT test.

It’s a kind of group IQ test. It’s not as accurate an assessment as an individual test, but it gives you a good idea of where your son or daughter falls relative to his or her peers.

And it doesn’t test what your kid knows; it tests ability.

Schools will use these scores to help make balanced classrooms each year.

Most schools with any type of gifted or enrichment program will also use this score as one of the determining factors for a child’s eligibility to participate.

They are usually looking for a score of 130 or higher.

About 2% of the population scores in this range.

The majority of students (close to 70%) will score between 84 and 116.

Those are the average scores.

We just got the results of this test a couple weeks ago.

Number 3’s score was a 93.

Average.

Not a surprise at all.

And who knows what Number 4’s score will be next year.

But I would bet a large amount of money that it will be close to, or above, that 130 mark.

So anyway, while Number 3 scores in the average range on the OLSAT test,

he’s not stupid.

He knows there’s a difference between himself and his sister.

I think that’s part of the reason why he broke that coin.

And that’s the reason why I will encourage him to do the things that help him to feel good about himself.

Whatever and wherever they are.

At swim practice, Number 3 does not act out.

He works hard.

He’s a leader.

Two days ago, Number 3’s U9 travel baseball team had a scrimmage against the U10 team.

They held their own, but the older kids were beating them by a few runs.

In this league, the kids pitch. This is Number 3’s first experience with kid-pitch baseball.

Number 3 has really been wanting to pitch, but he hasn’t had much practice in that department.

And he’s never had the opportunity to pitch in an actual game.

Until two days ago.

It was toward the end of the game and Number 7 was running out of gas.

I was distracted by her.

“Hey. Look who’s on the mound,” one of the dads said to me.

I looked out at the field.

Holy shit.

It was Number 3.

I immediately started sweating.

I wanted so badly for him to do well.

I resisted the urge to squeeze my eyes shut and cross my fingers.

He threw the first pitch.

I don’t remember if it was a strike or not, but it was a decent pitch.

“He can throw,” the dad said to me.

And throw he did.

Against those older ten-year-olds, my little eight-year-old kicked some ass.

Not a run was scored.

And he struck two guys out.

Two strikeouts.

I yelled for him like I’ve never yelled.

I did not care how loud or stupid or crazy I appeared.

My coin breaker was going to hear his mother cheering him on for every single pitch.

With every strike he threw, it became harder and harder to yell without my voice cracking.

I had to work really, really hard not to cry.

But I did it.

And as Number 3 walked toward me when the game was all over, he wore a smile from ear to ear.

He knew he did great.

And I knew he felt great.

We headed to the car and as we did, one of the boys on his team walked over to him.

He put his hand up for a high-five and said to Number 3,

“Great job pitching.”

And that was when I just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Reduced to tears by his very sweet teammate.

Recognition for my boy.

I know Number 3 needs to learn that the feeling of accomplishment comes from within.

But hearing it from your peers,

well,

that totally doesn’t suck.

And when it comes to pitching, neither does Number 3.

So until there’s a sports section on that OLSAT, my kid is going to spend as much time out on the field as he needs to.

Batter up!

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