How is it that, in our house at least, we are always more exhausted when the weekend is over than we were when it started?!
Friday afternoon, my awesome friend Sam said that they had some extra tickets for the Braves game that night, and asked if we wanted to come with them. Um, yes?! Big Daddy took a little more convincing since it meant he would have to call off work. (“It comes with free parking!” “Nnnggg.” “The seats are seven rows back, right next to the Braves dugout!” “!!!??!?” “They’ll buy us each a beer…” “That one hurts. Let me call off.”)
To top it off, my amazing grandparents offered to keep Jackson while we went. Since it was our “off” weekend for Avery, that meant NO KIDS. And NO KIDS means too much beer. Stew and I were both at least a little tipsy before we even got inside the ballpark, which was our intention from the get-go (hey, we were kid-free and had a designated driver).
So, we drank too much, the Braves won, Sam and I got to do lots of catching up, a friend of mine from the Mom Squad popped by our seats for a visit, and to top it all off, it was fireworks night! Every Friday night they have fireworks after the ballgame. Typically, I’m terrified of fireworks, but these are far enough away that I don’t jump at every BANG! (Yes, I own a gun, and I’m still afraid of the bang from fireworks. Whatever.)
Saturday morning came very early, and was especially rough considering that we got to bed at about 2 am and hadn’t even packed for the weekend. Stew was asked to travel for a ball tournament this weekend, and it was his/our first time getting to do that. He said that “he felt like this was the big leagues, like this was what he had been waiting for.” For someone who has been an umpire for ten years, that sounds like a pretty big deal to me.
Despite going to bed at 2, and me always taking an hour to fall asleep, 6am did roll around even though I didn’t want it to. We had to get up, pack quickly, and meet at a nearby gas station so his partner for the weekend could ride with us. Being that I am usually over-prepared and packed about a week ahead of time, this was pretty harrowing for me. We did pretty well, though, and only forgot one (CRUCIAL) thing.
Saturday, the guys got to call 7/8 coach pitch baseball, which was pretty awesome. That group doesn’t require that they wear equipment or really do much physical labor at all, so it was a good day. Big Daddy’s partner had one of those travel awnings, like an EZ-up tent, and I took every opportunity (as in, every time Jackson fell asleep) to take a nap myself. On the ground. For two hours. (I blame the Braves game the night before.)
Eventually, their games did end, and we went on to the next city where they’d be calling the next day and got checked in to the hotel and showered up. No sooner had we got into the room, and I took this cute picture of Jackson following Big Daddy with his eyes…
… about thirty seconds later, something started smelling rank. I mean, very rank. At first I thought it was Big Daddy. Then I thought it was me. Because surely my child couldn’t smell like that. However, I had forgotten that we tried baby food again. Sweet potatoes. And sweet potatoes is pretty much what it looked and smelled like afterwards, only it was everywhere. Somehow, my baby just doesn’t #2 very often. He isn’t constipated, it isn’t difficult for him to go, he just doesn’t do it often. And when he does … run. Run away and never come back. Because it is a LOT. And there is no containing it. I try to predict when it’s going to happen and only use the very best, most dependable diapers, but I failed that day. That sweet little face in that picture up there is hiding a very dark secret. As soon as I picked him up, there was poop all over the clean, freshly made hotel bed! And we had only been in the room under a minute! It was all over his clothes, my arm, the outside of his diaper! (I mean, really?!) Thankfully the hotel uses duvet covers, so we just stripped it off instead of having to call housekeeping. But those poor housekeepers probably got the surprise of their life on Sunday morning, after we checked out.
But, eventually we did all get cleaned up, and we ate at a place called Knight’s 1889 that the hotel web site had mentioned and had good reviews on Yelp. I tried writing a restaurant review, but apparently words just don’t come to me when it comes to food. So, I’ll just say, their buffalo chicken sandwich (which was their specialty) was the best sandwich I’ve ever had in my life. Party in my mouth. End of story.
After what seemed like thirty minutes of sleep on Saturday night, but I’m assuming was more like six hours, morning came way too early again. Typically we’d be getting up and getting ready for church, but baseball season pretty much nixes church for us for a couple months because of all the tournaments on Sundays. This time the guys were calling 9/10 baseball, which I love. Especially tournament teams. These kids are amazing ballplayers! We saw so many diving catches, a couple of home runs, one of them a walk off! I told Stew that kid was going to remember that moment for the rest of his life. There are plays that I still remember from when I was eight years old, and I just know that he’ll be able to look back on that game and be proud of it forever and ever. And his name was Jackson!
Sunday turned out to be much, much hotter. This was probably partly because I didn’t have the tent that day, and I decided to sit near the backstop and be social with the parents instead of sitting by the outfield fence in the grass. I’m sure the concrete contributed to the horrible heat, but there is more to hear and chat about back there. There were even some little girls, three of them about eight years old, playing pretend. One of them was Reese Witherspoon, one was Queen Elizabeth, and the third was pretending to be “Jackson’s Mommy.” I’d say I was in good company!
I also got a lot of reading done on Sunday – an entire book, actually. This one was called Love is a Wounded Soldier and I’ll probably review it later this month. That made three books for the weekend, which is a lot of reading even for me.
Eventually the tournament ended and we got back to the south side, where my big boy was waiting for us at my grandparents’ house. He gave me the biggest, tightest neck hug ever, and I tried hard not to cry. We hate having to give him up every other weekend, but those reunions sure are sweet. I was so glad to get him and Jackson home, get everyone changed, their rooms cleaned, and finally into bed past midnight. Big Daddy’s weekend was still going, though, because he had to go in to work at 11:00 on Sunday night! Since he called off for the Braves game on Friday, he had to go in to do his work before the school opened this morning. Poor thing. And now it’s Monday, and the whole she-bang starts again! For me, this week will be full of laundry, cleaning, unpacking, preparing for our weekend away in two weeks, writing (cloth diaper review and book review in the next two weeks, I promise), and some poolside lounging if I’m lucky. Our pool has been open for about a month now, but in true Georgia fashion, the weather has flip-flopped too much to keep the dad-gum thing warm. If not, I’ll be taking an icy plunge. I’m just feelin’ it. I need the water!
I hope everyone’s weekend was as eventful as mine… just maybe without the poop shenanigans.