Baby's First Baseball Game

An important first milestone occurred last night. We took 7.5 month old Amelia to her first baseball game. This isn't important because we are big sports fans. As a matter of fact, we only really follow football, and mostly I enjoy that because it's something my husband and I can watch together, and it's a good excuse to sit on the couch, eat appetizers, and drink beer. I recall many times when I was pregnant with Amelia that I told her she'd better vacate the premises by the OSU vs. Michigan game so I could drink a beer, or she would be grounded her entire life.

So, why was it so important to me that she endure the Toledo Mud Hens game last night? Well, two reasons. Despite the fact that I'm not a sports fan, I love going to see baseball. Not so much because I find it fascinating. All in all, I don't recall much of the game last night. I was too enthralled with talking to others, enjoying my Bud Light, and watching Amelia take everything in. What I enjoy about baseball is that I get to be outside, I understand most of the game, and the sights, sounds, and smells are some of my favorites-- people cheering, fresh cut grass, hot dogs, popcorn, grown-ups dressed like chickens (mud hens, whatever) dancing, men running around in uniforms without padding so I can... Oh, wait, my husband reads this. You get the drift. I like going to baseball games.

The second reason this was important is that it's one more part of my life I can say I get to enjoy again. In her early days, Amelia had colic. It was horrid. And combining that with being a first time mommy was beyond rough. I had serious moments where I would run through a list of relatives in my mind and consider who she could live with on a permanent basis when I lost my mind from her inconsolable crying and screaming at 3:00 am.

Because of this, I was very cautious about taking her anywhere at first. Talk about baby steps. I don't think we went anywhere but the pediatrician's office for the first three weeks. When we finally did venture out, it was to a few select households that I knew would be understanding of her colicky fits. We went to Meijer the first time when she was about a month old, and I think I practically ran through the store, throwing things into the cart, praying that she wouldn't scream uncontrollably. And when my friends who had 'easy' babies would say "Oh, you can take her anywhere you want, I ALWAYS would just throw baby so-and-so in her carseat and go! She would just sleep", I wanted to claw their eyes out. Screw you and your content baby, I'm practically on house arrest here. Sometimes she would take a step forward and we would go out for lunch, and she would be perfect and happy. Then, when I would try it again a week later, she would get overstimulated and scream and scream and SCREAM, leaving me to grab everything quickly and retreat, crying on the way home.

Last night was not the first time that we have gone out successfully as a family, but to me, it feels like one more assurance that we are past her fussy days. I am not naive enough to believe that she will always be so great when we do things. I know that she will have tired days, whiny episodes, screaming toddler fits. I can accept that. It's part of being a parent. But at least I'm not a prisoner in my own home anymore, as evidenced below:

 

Oh, and one last note. This game wore her out. I mean, she didn't sleep through the night, I've practically given up on that dream. But there was no crying, waking up every hour, middle of the night conversations, or waking up at 5am. SHE SLEPT TILL 7:30 am. I'm buying tickets to the remaining Toledo Mud Hens home games today.