Baseball

4th of July eve, we all headed to the Texas Rangers game. It's become an annual tradition because we all love baseball and were on a quest to find out exactly what temperature kills healthy humans.

It was really convenient to celebrate America and the Rangers since they wear the same colors. Score! Brandon-boy had to sit this one out. As charming and delightful as 2 year-olds are at baseball games, we thought his first experience might go better for all when he's 5:)

There is this awesome family area out behind center field where the kids can pitch, run the bases, take batting practice, etc. I, however, spent as much time as possible meeting new friends over by the misters.

No idea what the game time temp was, and I honestly don't mind the heat. It's summer in Texas--what do you expect? My only issues with the heat come due to the fact that I sweat more than sumo wrestlers in a steam room.

Within minutes of being outside, I felt sweat trickling down my leg. No, that's being polite. I felt river-like rapids drenching my shorts.

My wrists sweat. My shins sweat. And I have no way of proving this, but my eyeballs even sweat.

But I've learned to embrace it and I don''t even pretend the giant wet spot on my shirt was due to a water spill. {Although equally likely.} It is my own filth on display for total strangers.





Hopefully you are noting throughout the multiple clothing variations between Lilly and Rylie. The hats and shirts were flying around like it was a costume party.


Love this picture of J and Papa. Dad put the love of baseball in my heart as a little kid and he is doing the same for Jackson. As they say, baseball is a "talkin' game" and that's what I love about it so much.

Talking about the game, about life, and about future concession stand decisions.

One of our most dire food choices was made for us because it was $1 Blue Bell sundae cone night.


I wish the cones had come with a siphon, because it wasn't so much a savoring licking motion as a whip-lashing for your tongue as it raced around the cone to devour the melting ice cream.

But the real winner of the night was the portable air conditioners.

Grammy snuck out Sunday afternoon and stocked up on fan/spray bottles and batteries. I thought it was a little much, but in hindsight might I say: GENIUS.

{J just looks like he's being defeated by the heat, doesn't he?}

Lilly and Rylie took it upon themselves to mist our entire section. And they truly didn't mind.

Due to my sweat issues, I barely needed the spray action. JUST GIVE ME THE FAN.

Their little trigger fingers had to be exhausted by the end of the night. I would conservatively say they were pumping water 99.9% of the time. Maybe more.


While driving home, we were trying to decide if we were dirtier after a day in Disney World {a day in the park will leave you wearing a layer of first-class grime} or after the Rangers game.

Rangers, hands down.