Take me out to the ballgame

Today we took D and G to their first ever baseball game. We rode the train into the city, which was totally the way to go - no traffic, no ridiculously priced parking, no $3.49 per gallon gas. Of course, the amount of money we spent on food more than made up for what we saved on not driving ourselves, but hey, it isn't something we do everyday.

So as I sit here debating whether to unload the rest of the stuff from the car and clean up the kitchen before I crash, I have a few observations from our day at the ballgame.

I think I have now officially nursed a baby just about everywhere possible. Well, that's an exaggeration certainly, but I've wracked up an impressive list. Today I added train and bleachers at the baseball stadium to the list. But hey, a baby's gotta eat and mine eats from my boobs. There was nowhere else to go sit and nurse, so I sat there and did it right in my seat. I'm always careful to be discreet of course, but I don't have much nursing modesty. I'm not flashing boob or anything, but I'm also not going to go sit in a bathroom stall just because I have to feed my baby.

Which brings me to my second observation: my husband rules. Before feeding G, I said I was going to go look for a family restroom to see if they might have a chair or something so I could nurse. My husband looked at me funny and said, "What's wrong with here?" I love that man.

Third, and this is not a new feeling but one that the last two days have made more poignant - D is growing up. Yes, he's still a little guy, but he's nowhere near being a baby. Yesterday the weather was amazing and we literally spent the entire day outside, and I barely saw D except to occassionally throw some food and a juice box in his general direction and remind him to go potty a couple of times. Today he was similarly "on his own", although in the much loved company of his uncle (my brother). He had so much fun it was ridiculous, yet I watched much of it from afar. And instead of occassionally checking in with me, coming to sit on my lap for a minute or otherwise connect with Mommy, he more or less ignored me all day. Not in a deliberate sort of way; he was just a boy hanging out with family at a ballgame and he simply didn't need me quite so much. Now don't get me wrong, this is a good thing. I want him to grow in independence and it isn't as if I think he doesn't need me at all - far from it. But he's growing up a little bit more each day and it's a bittersweet thing to watch your child grow up. It reminds you that someday they'll complete that journey.

Finally, my fourth observation: I'm so grateful that G has such an easygoing personality. We wouldn't have even considered taking D to a baseball game when he was (almost) 11 months old; he would have been a basketcase about an hour after naptime and would have never been content to sit in the stands on someone's lap for so long. G was a trooper. Despite being there during his afternoon naptime, he was generally pretty happy and content through most of the game. He charmed everyone around us with his bright brown eyes and chubby cheek smile. I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was, relatively speaking (after all, taking a baby to a baseball game isn't exactly what I'd call "easy") to have him there with us, despite the very unbaby-friendly nature of a baseball stadium. He completely sacked out in the sling on the train ride home, just as he was getting too fussy to be distracted. And he still went to bed on time tonight without a peep. Seriously, who is this kid? Did he really come from our genes?

Overall, I'm just glad we all went and I didn't chicken out and stay home with G for fear it would be too much work to bring a baby to the ballgame. I've missed out on a few things here and there since G was born when it truly wasn't practical (or smart) to bring him along. I didn't want to be sitting at home wondering how D was enjoying his first baseball game. It was really special to get to be there.

But damn, I'm tired.