Don't Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I used to wait anxiously for my Cardinals to come to Cincinnati two or three times each summer so that I could go see them play in person. For some reason, maybe the proximity of the cities and their similarity, the stands always had plenty of fellow fans for me to smile at and nod to. There would be a fair amount of joking around with Reds fans. The people sitting next to me might say "Eww, I have to sit next to you?" But they would smile, and after a little baseball talk, maybe a debate about whether Pujols was one of the greatest players they've ever seen, or oohing and aahing over a great play by one of the Reds, we'd depart as friends.

And then, Molina (my favorite Cardinal) and Phillips (who I like pretty well) got into that altercation last year. While I still like them both as players, I sure wish that had never happened.

In April in St. Louis, I witnessed my fellow St. Louis fans actually boo a player like I've never heard them before. My town I was so proud of for being good fans of the game, appreciative of good players from whatever team they represented, let me down. In May, we went to see the Cardinals here with the boys, and the atmosphere was a little less friendly than I remember it.

Then came last night. It was an exciting game in the end, though the first 6 innings were not much to look at, other than a couple of Heisey homeruns. The 7th was spectacular (on both sides), and the Reds and the Cardinals spent the rest of the game duking it out. I didn't even mind when in the end, my Cardinals lost due to a walk-off homerun by (of all people) Brandon Phillips. You see, I'm used to witnessing the Cardinals lose in Cincinnati. For a while, it was sort of a running joke that if I wore my number 5 t-shirt to the game, it was guaranteed they would lose. I've rarely been to a game where they won here, but I come to see them play-- win or lose.

But the whole experience of the evening was enough to make me think that next year, I'll just wait until we make our annual trip to St. Louis to go see them play. Sure, I still saw a lot of Cardinals tshirts and jerseys in the stands and walking around. But there was no friendly joking with the other fans. And on the way to the stadium, a guy yelled at me about how the Cardinals F***ing Suck (twice), and then called me a F***ing B****h, just because I was wearing my jersey. I had to watch as John ran off to defend my honor, wondering if he would end up walking into the game with bloody nose or a broken hand. After the game, waiting by myself in a crowded area for John to come out of the restroom, I was jostled and pushed by fans making several unfriendly comments about the Cards. I was feeling claustrophobic and just wanted to get the heck out of there.

It's like the Reds finally pulled themselves out of the bottom half of the NL Central for a couple of years, won the Division once, and their fans think they're the Yankees all of a sudden. They still can't fill the ballpark with fans on a regular basis, but the fans who come seem to have an awfully nasty attitude.

When I went to see the Bengals play the Jets on their turf in November, sure, there was the guy a few rows in front of us who turned to flip us off every time the Jets made a first down. But most of the people around us joked with us about how bad the Bengals were (we fully admitted that) and admired our tiger face paint. We at least got compliments for showing our colors. We all laughed at the trash talk and I never felt threatened or scared.

I'm a Reds fan for most of the season. I'll go to plenty of Reds games. I've lived here now almost as long as I lived in St. Louis. My kids will be Reds fans, and I dress them in Reds gear all the time. But when the Reds play the Cardinals at Great American next year, I may not be in the stands. Because I can't go see the Cards play without showing my colors. As big of a fan as I am, I'm not going to get in a fistfight with someone over it. And I'm certainly not going to let my kids see that sort of bully behavior. They can be Reds fans, but I want them to be fans most of all of the sport itself, like my dad and my grandfather taught me to be.

88 Weeks

I received one of those emails today, the ones generated based on some web form I completed long ago, listing my baby's due date and my email address, in order to get some formula rebate or coupons for diapers or the like. The title read "Your baby at 88 weeks." 88 weeks! That number (what seemed a rather large one) stuck in my head. '88 was the year I graduated high school. Could it be that my little guy is speeding toward adolescence before I've even gotten to enjoy him as a baby?

With Charlie, I guess things seemed to move slower, with only one child in the house. And I always figured (hoped, anyway) that another child would come along to round out our family, and I'd get to go through these moments all over again. I never panicked at how big he was getting-- I was just proud and excited at all the new things he was doing.

With Liam, I feel like everything is moving too quickly. Weeks go by and all of a sudden I'm struck by how big his feet are, or the fact that his head hits the kitchen table when he tries to walk under it. I don't take nearly as many videos of Liam as I did of Charlie, and I know it. I have to make an effort to remember the camera. It's not that I don't take photos or video-- I just shoot more on my Blackberry because it's so much faster to communicate and send those photos to family via email or Facebook in an instant. I'm two years behind on editing the videos I have taken as it is, so the only way for Grandma and Grandpa to see the kids' latest trick is to shoot it on the phone and email it instantly.

And now you're thinking..... but what about the blog? Yes, it's been more than 6 months now since I updated this site. I haven't forgotten about my readers-- ask my poor husband who hears me moan about how behind I am all the time. Trust me, I have the notes-- the first time Liam climbed into a chair by himself, the madness of March 2011, the heights and weights from each doctor visit, how Charlie celebrated his fourth birthday. I just need to sit down, with the TV off, the kids asleep (or out of the house), and no sporting event on TV to tug at my attention for an hour or two.

Now that I've broken my long silence, I'm hoping I can soon go back and catch up on all those moments I missed so far in 2011, and maybe in the process I can make time seem to go by a little more slowly for a while. For now, I need to get some sleep. Goodnight all.

Happy New Year!

For my New Years resolution.... I promise to not procrastinate any further and finish this post before midnight!

It has been a busy last two months of 2010 in the Robenalt household (apparently too busy for me to blog!) I made my Black Friday journey to NYC and watched the Bengals lose yet again to the Jets. Beth and I enjoyed shopping, seeing Promises, Promises, and eating huge calorie-filled cupcakes. While I was away, John took the boys to Cleveland, stopping in Columbus on the way back to see the Ohio State Michigan game. John played in a broomball tournament in Indy and we took the kids to breakfast with Santa. It was all capped off with a trip to Houston and a visit from Uncle Rory, leaving us to enjoy a quiet New Years Eve at home with some wine and our now traditional meal of lasagna and brownies.

Early in November, Liam and Charlie starting having breakthroughs on the eating front. Charlie decided that he did in fact like turkey-- at least the Boars Head Maple Glazed Honey Turkey that John likes so much. He also started sharing some apple slices with us-- although he declined the caramel dip that is my favorite accompaniment. This adventurousness with apples may have stemmed from a preschool exercise in which they tasted different types of apples and picked their favorites. Liam had at least one day where he ate some mac-n-cheese (although he outright refused it last night), and started to eat bananas when fed to him in small chunks from a fork. He's now an avid fan of graham crackers and drinking easily from a sippy cup.

We had some streaks of unseasonably warm weather in November, followed by a sudden bitter cold in December. Charlie requested Christmas lights this year, and we barely got one small bush covered before snow hit and lingered until just the past couple of days, when the unusually warm weather returned in time for New Years Eve. Charlie and I took Lucy for a walk today without even wearing coats! The week of Thanksgiving we had our new windows and front door installed, and we're anxious to see what that does for our winter heating bills.

Liam has been starting to mimic certain sounds from time to time. He has tried to repeat after me by saying "meow" and "bonk" and shaking his head to "no." Shortly after Thanksgiving, he started to get up from the floor to standing without holding on to anything. By the 15th he took his first two real steps toward John. On the Sunday before Christmas, while John was at the Bengals/Browns game, he really started walking around, several steps at a time. The trip to Houston completed his "training," as he spent hours trying to follow his brother and cousins around the house. He's a full on walker now. He's also popped through more teeth, although there are still a few gaps, which gives him a cute toothy smile.

Charlie has continued to entertain us with nightly re-enactments of Toy Story 3 in the family room. It is not uncommon to see him rolling around in a pile of stuffed animals, crying out "we're in the trash!" He was thrilled when I found an old barrel of monkeys in the basement. For Christmas, he asked Santa only for a Jessie and a Bullseye big enough for Woody and Jessie to ride on. He got both. Not only was this movie his first full length film seen in a theater, but it's the first he's really quoted specific lines from regularly.

Charlie started soccer classes last month and he is really enjoying them. I'm pleased with the exercises they run, and he seems to get a lot out of it. One Saturday after soccer I took him to Starbucks and treated him to a kid's hot chocolate. I now have a convert to the chocolate milk/hot chocolate fan club.

Charlie now wears big boy underwear all day every day, and only wears a pull-up at night "just in case." We're probably ready to try some nights without that extra security, but I'm nervous he'll have an accident and it will upset him more than me. We took the extra precaution of a pull-up for the plane ride to and from Houston also just in case.

Lucy will now be spending days in her crate while we're at work. Over the past couple of months, she started to carry around stuffed animals while we were away, leaving them in odd places in the house. Once in a while, she would tear a nose off a bear, or chew on a play hat. For a short time, a new plastic bone kept her chewing activities focused and the destruction of toys stopped. Then a piece of pizza disappeared off the counter, and a box of pasta was pulled out of a grocery bag and broken into. Gone are the days of her lounging on our bed while we're gone. The good news is that the reintroduction of the crate has gone quite smoothly, and she's falling into the old routine.

Perhaps my favorite story of the past two months, however, is what Charlie had to say after school on the day when the father of one of his classmates had come in to talk about Hanukkah traditions and Charlie was fascinated by the menorah. He wanted to know "Can we get one of those Hanukkah things, with the fire and stuff?"

Here's hoping you had a wonderful holiday season, no matter what traditions you observe, and that 2011 brings you peace, love, and joy.