^^^ Just writing that title makes me feel so American. ^^^
Yesterday I told Reid what we'd be doing for the weekend. "We're going to go to a Baseball game tomorrow night buddy."
He quickly began talking about hitting the ball and running the bases and I realized I needed to clarify that we were going to be "watching" a baseball game. I was surprised by his quick response, "I'll have a team to cheer for mommy, I'll need to wear their colors." Where does this kid learn these things?!?!
The Baseball game outing was organized by one of Ben's co-workers. Each year he has worked for the PD office we have attended a very family friendly night at the Timber Rattler's stadium (in case you're too lazy to check on that link -- they are a local minor league team that feeds into The Brewers).
We started our morning with a trip to the pool. As always, the kids love to swim. And so do I, especially when I'm a human submarine (really, think about that). We came home for lunchtime and naps and before you know it we were getting ready for the tailgate party.
Reid and Nell were happy to see there were a couple other little kids there, but mostly they were excited about all the hot dogs and cookies (I furnished the cookies though, so my kids had each already eaten several -- Reid even earned a time out for sneaking one).
The forecast was predicting scattered thunderstorms, and we even drove through one on our way to the game. But for the entire cookout the weather was great. Just as everyone had finished eating the rain started coming down. Hard.
Luckily it let up after about ten minutes and we started putting all our things away and handing out tickets so we could get inside the stadium before another scattered shower hit. Well, we didn't quite make it to the stadium before the next shower, and Nell decided she needed no protection from this second (lighter) rain. That girl was in heaven as she jumped through all the puddles and drenched her body, head to toe, with fresh water from the sky.
It soon stopped and we finally made it to the stadium. We could see Elsa and Anna in the sky club (the theme of this year's family night was "Frozen"). We started heading to our seats near the bounce houses, giant sand box, and fancy play set, only to realize the game hadn't started yet. The bases were covered with a giant tarp and there appeared to be a light sprinkle on the field. We had to push through huge crowds of people who were all trying to find shelter from the scattered storms that appeared to have morphed into a constant drizzle.
We waited inside the stadium for almost an hour before we decided to just go home (we were only planning on watching the game for an hour anyway -- due to bedtimes). On our way out we saw Olaf and both the kids screamed as if he was going to murder them. It seemed like the perfect end to our hour crammed inside a stadium with no baseball game going.
When we arrived back at the entrance/exit gate Reid realized what was going on. Even though we had told him we were leaving, it wasn't until we saw that gate that he knew he wasn't going to see any ball hitting and base running tonight.
He broke down. Totally hysterical. I tried to calm him. I told him we could come another day. This tactic almost always works, but it works after we've done the thing we actually came to do, ie visit grandma, go to the park, etc. None of my kind efforts to calm him worked. When he saw Ben running through the parking lot with Nell across his body he demanded I carry him. I reminded him I couldn't and the crying became unbearable. So ... I said those words I hate to say.
"You have to stop crying!"
"Carry me! Carry me like Daddy!"
"I will IF you stop crying. I will not run through the rain carrying a crying little boy."
Magically, he stopped. And magically, I didn't start to feel early labor pains. He's only three but that boy hits my 50lb limit.
Once inside the car the crying started all over. I was buckling him into his seat and finally had the calm I needed to approach his fit rationally. Rationally for me and rationally for him.
Cue Mr Rogers.
"You know what Buddy?"
"What?" sob, sob.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Yes," sob, sob.
"You'll listen?"
"Yes."
"I'm really disappointed too. I was excited to come watch a baseball game with you and Nelly Belly and Dad. I knew it was going to be so much fun, but then it rained! And now I'm really disappointed."
"I'm disappointed too mommy." Yes, you are my child, but you are no longer crying! Victory is mine. Cue evil laugh.
The entire thirty minute drive home we must have heard the word "disappointed" two dozen times. But his anger and heart ache were gone. There were no more tears. Just words. Conversation.
We talked about all our feelings and how when something bad happens you can turn it around and find something good. The something good was our BBQ and the minion crackers Ben stopped at Target and picked up for the kids (he'd already raided the Oshkosh Target of all their greek yogurt, so we stopped at the Appleton one to empty their shelves -- we love sales).
Tonight was a beautiful reminder. A reminder that we all need our feelings validated. Even when it is impossible to fix our apparent problems, we need words to describe our feelings and listening ears to acknowledge them.
The entire world would be a better place if we all remembered this very basic human issue.
Yesterday I told Reid what we'd be doing for the weekend. "We're going to go to a Baseball game tomorrow night buddy."
He quickly began talking about hitting the ball and running the bases and I realized I needed to clarify that we were going to be "watching" a baseball game. I was surprised by his quick response, "I'll have a team to cheer for mommy, I'll need to wear their colors." Where does this kid learn these things?!?!
The Baseball game outing was organized by one of Ben's co-workers. Each year he has worked for the PD office we have attended a very family friendly night at the Timber Rattler's stadium (in case you're too lazy to check on that link -- they are a local minor league team that feeds into The Brewers).
We started our morning with a trip to the pool. As always, the kids love to swim. And so do I, especially when I'm a human submarine (really, think about that). We came home for lunchtime and naps and before you know it we were getting ready for the tailgate party.
Reid and Nell were happy to see there were a couple other little kids there, but mostly they were excited about all the hot dogs and cookies (I furnished the cookies though, so my kids had each already eaten several -- Reid even earned a time out for sneaking one).
The forecast was predicting scattered thunderstorms, and we even drove through one on our way to the game. But for the entire cookout the weather was great. Just as everyone had finished eating the rain started coming down. Hard.
Luckily it let up after about ten minutes and we started putting all our things away and handing out tickets so we could get inside the stadium before another scattered shower hit. Well, we didn't quite make it to the stadium before the next shower, and Nell decided she needed no protection from this second (lighter) rain. That girl was in heaven as she jumped through all the puddles and drenched her body, head to toe, with fresh water from the sky.
It soon stopped and we finally made it to the stadium. We could see Elsa and Anna in the sky club (the theme of this year's family night was "Frozen"). We started heading to our seats near the bounce houses, giant sand box, and fancy play set, only to realize the game hadn't started yet. The bases were covered with a giant tarp and there appeared to be a light sprinkle on the field. We had to push through huge crowds of people who were all trying to find shelter from the scattered storms that appeared to have morphed into a constant drizzle.
We waited inside the stadium for almost an hour before we decided to just go home (we were only planning on watching the game for an hour anyway -- due to bedtimes). On our way out we saw Olaf and both the kids screamed as if he was going to murder them. It seemed like the perfect end to our hour crammed inside a stadium with no baseball game going.
 |
| Notice Nell's death grip and buried face. Reid wouldn't even go near him for the candy. |
He broke down. Totally hysterical. I tried to calm him. I told him we could come another day. This tactic almost always works, but it works after we've done the thing we actually came to do, ie visit grandma, go to the park, etc. None of my kind efforts to calm him worked. When he saw Ben running through the parking lot with Nell across his body he demanded I carry him. I reminded him I couldn't and the crying became unbearable. So ... I said those words I hate to say.
"You have to stop crying!"
"Carry me! Carry me like Daddy!"
"I will IF you stop crying. I will not run through the rain carrying a crying little boy."
Magically, he stopped. And magically, I didn't start to feel early labor pains. He's only three but that boy hits my 50lb limit.
Once inside the car the crying started all over. I was buckling him into his seat and finally had the calm I needed to approach his fit rationally. Rationally for me and rationally for him.
Cue Mr Rogers.
"You know what Buddy?"
"What?" sob, sob.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Yes," sob, sob.
"You'll listen?"
"Yes."
"I'm really disappointed too. I was excited to come watch a baseball game with you and Nelly Belly and Dad. I knew it was going to be so much fun, but then it rained! And now I'm really disappointed."
"I'm disappointed too mommy." Yes, you are my child, but you are no longer crying! Victory is mine. Cue evil laugh.
The entire thirty minute drive home we must have heard the word "disappointed" two dozen times. But his anger and heart ache were gone. There were no more tears. Just words. Conversation.
We talked about all our feelings and how when something bad happens you can turn it around and find something good. The something good was our BBQ and the minion crackers Ben stopped at Target and picked up for the kids (he'd already raided the Oshkosh Target of all their greek yogurt, so we stopped at the Appleton one to empty their shelves -- we love sales).
Tonight was a beautiful reminder. A reminder that we all need our feelings validated. Even when it is impossible to fix our apparent problems, we need words to describe our feelings and listening ears to acknowledge them.
The entire world would be a better place if we all remembered this very basic human issue.
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