It's "Zach" not "Michael," and it's "Zack," not "Zac."

Oh, and it's "Schlender" not "Slender."

I officially suck as trophy mom. In my rapid fire attempt to get the boys trophies to commemorate their championship season, I ordered them all engraved off the roster, never thinking the roster could be totally wrong in like 3 places. Thank God the trophy shop can re engrave and mail them to me toute suite and I'll eat the $3 cost for not triple checking.

But WAIT, you say. Didn't you just post the other day about the boys getting their league trophies? Why yes! I did. Despite being told to order them, the league gave us trophies anyway. So now each kid has two (though mine are cuter and can hold a game ball). That was a fun 45 minute drive to the trophy store. Weee!

Last night we won our game against the Astros 8-1. No one managed to get a bloody nose but three kids got whacked by a ball. This game is not for wimps!  My sweet baby did not hit a ball once but let me tell you he can play the hell out of the violin and he skipped freaking first grade so take that all you little 9 year old sports phenoms (sob sob sob baby please dear God hit the ball just once really hard).

My son's goal at age nine is to have the other coach tell the boys to "back up. He's a hitter" when he's up to bat. At nine. Who needs this pressure??

The last game is tonight with Nana and granddad in attendance all the way from Florida. I am pretty sure they are getting yet ANOTHER trophy for the playoffs. And then we're all going to get ice cream after the game.