What Mothers Wont Do For Their Sons

I wrote a baseball novel but it is a different type of baseball novel. It is about a mother who has a dream for her son to make the baseball team and she does this by becoming his coach. And then when she cant coach him any further she gets a broken down World Series Pitcher to help him. And she does all this with Lupus. And she never gives up .Ever.

And I based it on my own wife and other mothers I had seen where they will do anything for their sons. Anything. And it was confirmed with the reviews that have come in from mothers. I originally thought this would be testosterone novel with boys and men as the primary audience. But it is not really men that are reading this book as much as women. The reviews are mostly by women and they respond to the Maria character and what she wont do for her son Ricky.

All good fiction deals in universals and this must be one of them. A mothers love that knows no bounds when it comes to her son. A mother who becomes a coach and then gets a reluctant old grouchy pitcher to come out of his garage and quit drinking beer and coach her son. It is an amazing testatment to will. The will of a mother.

Review of The Pitcher

Rich Mom, Middle class Mom

Yeah ok Ann Romney works. Sure she does. A mom of five boys. And the Rosen comment was terrible with a capital T. But really? Do we really think Ann Romney with a quarter billion dollars is on the same footing as middle class mothers? I don't think so. A middle class mom has to do the work because there is no one else to do it. A rich mom can hire anybody she wants and does. A rich mom can pick and choose and has the means to throw the whole thing over and have other people stand in for her.

A rich mom has nannies. A middle class mom has hands. A rich mom has gardeners. A middle class mom has her husband or she pushes the mower. A rich mom has cleaning people. A middle class mom has her aching back. A rich mom goes on vacations. A middle class mom goes on weekends. A rich mom hires nannies. A middle class mom gives her kid a key. A rich mom doesn't have to change diapers or do the laundry or even make the coffee. A middle class mom changes the diapers gets to the laundry when she can and makes instant coffee. A rich mom puts her kid in every sports program in the world. A middle class mom chooses one she can afford. A rich mom shops wherever she wants and buys whatever she wants. A middleclass mom goes to Sams Club and agonizes over her purchases. A rich mom goes out to dinner and the theatre. A middleclass mom drives through McDonalds and falls asleep in front of the television.

It goes on and on. So Rosen spouted off and the Obama campaign threw her under the bus. But if you think your life is like someone who has a quarter billion dollars then you are delusional. Ninety percent of stress is FINANCIAL. Ann Romney has enough money to buy a house for her kids, her dog, herself, her nanny, her cat, Mitt, and then fly off to Europe or go on a world tour. Very different realities. She had five boys and  five nannies, five cleaning people, five gardeners, and five beauticians, and five people to shop for her. As the famous quote goes, the rich are very different from you and me.

So Rosen has been crucified. Maybe what she should have said is Ann Romney is so rich she never would have had to change one diaper if she didnt' want to. If she did change a diaper, it was a voluntary decision. Hmmm...doesn't sound like work to me.

http://www.billhazelgrove.com/

Summer Has Ended

Our kids are going back to school now. They have all collected at their bus stops and marched off leaving their turtles and dogs and cats and chalk and bikes and tricycles and bathing suits and goggles behind. They have left their friendly garages scrawled with stick men and names on the cool cement that smells of gas and bikes and grass. They no longer go barefoot in the yard and listen to the crickets and run after the fireflies and catch bugs in a jar. They are no longer roasting marshmallows and getting chocolate on their hands and tracking in dirt or letting the wet dog in for the hundredth time.

We are no longer lighting charcoal and eating with them on our patios or decks or on that broken picnic table. They are not inside on the hot days watching television for hours. They aren't taking that sweaty bike ride with their parents that ends up at the ice cream store. Their paper plates are no where to be found. Their cups of Kool Aide are empty. They aren't siting around a  table at the Dairy Queen on a warm summer night with ice cream dripping all over their hands. Their rooms are not perpetually a wreck with wet suits and clothes stacked up from the week. They are not coming back from summer camp with mosquito bites and warm brows. Their books and their IPODS and their computers and their dolls and their basketballs, baseballs, footballs, lacrosse sticks, mitts, all lay dormant now.

For summer has ended even though it is still August. They have lined up for their yellow buses and waved goodbye to parents who snapped pictures and waved and shouted and then tried to catch a glimpse of them as they rode away in disel exhaust for eight hours. We return to our homes, our work. It is quiet. We go through our days. We make our money and work out and run through the TO DO lists of our lives. But in the unguarded moment we are heartbroken.

Summer has ended and our children have gone away.

http://www.billhazelgrove.com/

Rocket Man Kindle The story of a one mans search for the American Dream