Anyway, I must admit that the day actually started out sorta OK. We all got up and dressed in a timely manner, and the three kids and I were ready well ahead of time (as opposed to years' past). Mary was a bit grumpy, AS USUAL, but she didn't sleep well the night before, and despite many, many recitations of the parade and game and events of the day the night before, the grumpy gus still managed to act SURPRISED that I had to drag her out of bed at 7:30 on a Saturday morning (really, kid? really?). Well, we got to the parade on time to actually get Mary and Keith lined up with their respective teams instead of shoving them in place as the parade went by. Go ME!
I got fooled by the weather, though. It's always cool in the house, and I have not wizened up to the fact yet that the temperature in the house does not necessarily reflect the temperature outside. Izzy and I had on jeans and sneakers and fleece sweatshirts. Immediately upon arriving I discovered my gaff--that it was a horribly humid day. Well, Izzy and I waited along the parade route (We got a GREAT spot this year--punctuality WORKS! Huh!)...and that's just about when all the fun got taken out of our day.
Izzy started whining. And Whining. And WHINING. She was hungry (they already had the free hot dog stand set up for the players and she wanted one NOW--at 8:45 on the morning, just an hour after she ate her breakfast--or her life was just OVER). She was thirsty. I'm assuming she was hot, but surprisingly, she didn't whine about THAT. And since I was there without transportation (it was at Target, remember?), I couldn't even drop off the fleece sweatshirts and had to lug them around with the whiny Izzy and my coffee (what a GREAT idea on a hot day) and my purse and my camera. And well, the whining was driving me NUTS.
Keith's team went by, and he was so clustered in with that group of goofy boys, that he didn't see nor hear me. The girls' team is always way, way, WAY at the back of the parade (last before the high schoolers!), so we had to wait and wait and WAIT until we finally saw her. She didn't wave at me, and I had no idea if she even saw me. *sigh*
Izzy and I then toddled off to the Opening Ceremonies--which seemed more lengthy than ever on this lovely humid day. I took pity on the Whiny One and got her a water bottle from the hot dog stand. Well, it just wasn't good enough, folks! Oh no, the whiny quest for the hot dog continued NON-STOP through all the speeches, the opening prayer (really? what year is this?), more speeches, and the national anthem, oh, and another speech). By this time, John has come back from Target (with a sharp, cool shirt, BTW--am jealous), and he's getting exposure to the blessing that is our lovely third child. Oi vey.
After the ceremony, I stuck John with Izzy and the fleeces while I searched through the hundreds and hundreds of sweaty kids and parents for my own two kids. I managed to find ONE--a very faint Mary who was just DYING of the humidity (oh! the drama!). I reunited her with her father while I kept up the search (Other mothers passing me by, "Have you seen my kid?" "No, have you seen MINE?"). The crowd has thinned out by now, so I met up with John again to finally see Keith getting deposited there by his coach. Whew!
We all head up to Mary's game, but Mary is still being the FOUL, I-had-to-get-up-early-and-now-I'm-hot-and-I-don't-want-to-play mood. John is helping to coach her team, so he got the brunt of it. My darling daughter has a tinge of the Stubborn Gene in her (thanks, Mom), and she was determined she was NOT going to have fun, and she was NOT going to cooperate with her father. Oi.
Meanwhile, Keith is popping heads off dandelions and getting grass stains on his brand-new uniform--and jumping off the highest step of the bleachers. Izzy.... Oh, God. She just...she got WORSE. The first inning of the game I got every rendition of "I want a hot dog!!!!!!!" and also "I want ice cream!!!!!" thrown in there, that she could muster.
Is this one of those times when a Mom should just give in? To let her hot, humid child have a hot dog at 10:00 in the morning when she just had breakfast and lunch is just a ballgame away? I decided to try to reason with her (b-der! idiot!)--to even cut a deal. "We can go to the concession stand after the first inning. I just saw Mary bat, I want to see her play second base. We will go after this inning. No, Izzy, just after this inning. Izzy, NO. We WILL get a hot dog, I promise, but can I PLEASE see your sister play second base?????" AUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!
And that's when my head exploded.
I grabbed my hot Izzy and my hot self and told John, smellyalater, and Oh, guess I'd better grab Keith, too, and we went on our merry way home, Izzy crying and screaming the WHOLE way.
Oh God. WHY do I even bother??? One simply cannot enjoy one's kids' ballgames with one's OTHER KIDS IN TOW.
We got home. Cooled down in the cool house. Changed into cooler clothes (except for poor Keith, who had a game later), and then I extracted a promise from Izzy that her whining was DONE for the day, and we went back. All told, I got to see probably about two full innings of Mary's game. *sigh*
After the game, I find out about the nasty attitude Miss Hot Thing exhibited to her father, the coach. It was NOT pretty. John was NOT happy.
We made it down to the concession stand (FINALLY--the WHINY ONE got her @#$% hotdog! But NOT ice cream!), and we all actually had an enjoyable lunch. We went home and hung out for a little bit before Keith's game. John made the very WISE decision of taking Keith on his own and leaving me home with the girls. I really did want to go to Keith's game, but I was NOT going to sit on those bleachers with TWO whiny daughters. NO WAY. So I took them to buy some cheap summer sandals, and then we crashed at home.
Keith enjoyed his game, but he got very upset when he struck out all three times at bat. The poor guy got hit in the face with a pop up during practice a few weeks ago, and now he jumps back at oncoming pitches and is hesitant with his catching. We hope he grows out of it soon.... (Mary STILL won't take full swings from when she got hit by a ball, what...three years ago? URGH!)
Well, anyway, it was a very, very long and hot day. And I am bummed as it's pretty obvious that I will probably be missing quite a few games do to the Izzy Problem. (But what am I supposed to do on Thursday nights when Mary has games, and John has his golf league???????) Ah well.
Pictures:
I dunno--I think this might be Keith's team:
I mean, can YOU find him in this gaggle of goofiness?
Grumpy Girl--I caught her smiling!
(Yes, she did spot me, but she said she couldn't wave because she was HOLDING THE FLAG, MOM--DUH!)
The Local Celebrity made an appearance!!! I haven't seen him around the ballpark in three years, and THERE HE IS!!!! This was the best pic I could get of him without running back and making a total @$$ of myself. (He's holding a cute dog, BTW.) Anyway, HOW COOL IS THAT?
(Edited.... Hope I fixed that link.)
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