baseball or bust: bust

When I heard that Dan's favorite MLB team, the Cincinnati Reds, were playing on Father's Day, I knew what his present was going to be. He's been talking about wanting to go to a game for a long time -- pretty much since Olivia was born -- and I thought FD would be a perfect day for him to take her to her first major league game. I photoshopped a Reds hat onto a picture of O, wrote a cheesy poem about the game, printed it out and stuck it in an SQL Server study book of his that I wrapped up. You should have seen the confusion on his face when he opened it. "SQL Server? Wha--? Uh ... I already have this." Heh.

Through a great connection from a friend (thanks, J!), we were able to get all-inclusive club seats -- we're talking unlimited (oh yeah!) hot dogs, pizza, hamburgers, nachos, fountain drinks, and even pasta with breadsticks or stir fry -- in the shade (a must when you have a baby or are as fair as yours truly) for a steal. The drive is only 2 hours and was pretty much a piece of cake, except that O didn't nap as planned on the way there. Strike one. Actually, make that strike two: strike one would be that she basically refused to eat breakfast, so she was off her game from the start.

It was a bit of hike from the parking garage to the ballpark, but once we got there it was easy to pick up our tickets and find the suites. When we first arrived, I thought maybe we were in the wrong place. It was air conditioned! And did I mention the all-you-can-eat food? Our seats were just a few rows down from the a/c food paradise, so we went and sat down to check them out. No one else was in our row, and we were right on the aisle. Perfect! Except that Olivia was NOT impressed.

Our view:

Olivia's reaction to our view:

I like to call this photo, "Meh." Approximately 1.2 seconds after this photo was taken, all hell broke loose. She commenced with flailing and screaming the likes of which I have never seen before, along with her world-famous sudden limp arm maneuver (SLAM) I may have mentioned previously. Walking with her down the row only served to make her more angry, as I wouldn't let go of her hand so she could fling herself on the sticky ground, eat discarded peanut shells, or catapult herself over the chairs and tumble down the rows below us. I'm SO mean.

I decided it was a good time to let Dan watch a little baseball, so off we went to explore the a/c suite. Translation: I was hungry. I grabbed a hot dog for us to share (Olivia's verdict: meh) and managed to keep her on my lap for most of the time it took me to scarf it down. Then she wanted to run around. The problem was that she had taken off her shoes during Tantrum 1.0 in our seats, so we had to go retrieve them. Enter tantrum 2.0. This was a full upgrade tantrum, you see. Not just mere whining, but eardrum-bursting screaming and actual tears. I felt people beginning to stare.

We went back in the suite, but between carrying the diaper bag and my camera bag and trying to hold her very unwilling-to-be-held hand, I was having a rough time. Enter something I swore I would never use until I had a child: the harness. This:

Mean as it looks, it's actually pretty useful for helping to steer your teetering toddler. But wow, I couldn't believe the stares I was getting. Two of the hot dog vendors were alternating between whispers and staring at us, so I sort of laughed and told them hey, I used to think these were crazy, but you have to do what you have to do (translation: quit staring and serve up some hot dogs, ladies). They said they were debating this issue; one was pro-harness, the other, con. Whatever. I didn't have time to get into it, because Miss O was on the go.

I tried to placate her with a piece of pizza. After one bite, she kicked her foot up on the table, somehow managed to flip the pizza off the plate cheese-side down on the table, then use her sauce-covered shoe to kick me in several places while screaming and trying to get off my lap. She resisted my efforts to clean us both up. The crying escalated and seemed to echo in the suite. People at tables all around us were staring -- only a few faces were sympathetic. I tried reasoning with her. Begging. Bribing with her favorite snacks. No dice. So I did what any normal, calm, level-headed parent would do in that situation.

I cried.

I managed to keep the tears at bay as I gathered up our stuff while barely managing to hold Olivia's arm as she flung herself to the ground dramatically. We walked around and looked out the windows at the boats on the river, and her crying (as well as my desire to fling myself to the ground and sob) slowly started to diminish. Then I saw Dan come in, and I lost it. He was coming in from outside to say that we should probably head home, bless him. That was without knowing that he'd just missed the upgrade to Tantrum 3.0. He was happy he got to see a couple of innings and got a hot dog. I was happy that he was happy, though the disappointment in my big fun surprise not go as planned still stings a little. I guess no one ever said that having kids is fun all of the time. :P

To sum it up:

Tickets: $40
Garage parking: $12

Hours driven: 4

Innings viewed: 3

Free food consumed: 2 hot dogs, 1 order nachos, 1 coke, 1 water, 1 bag peanuts, 1 bite cheese pizza

Tears shed: many

Still, according to Dan, having Olivia conk out on his shoulder as we fled the ballpark for our car was priceless.