Morning sickness with Mike: Boys night out

Okay, back in the Midwest again! Flew back into Kansas City last Friday night and was met at the airport by Shelly and this little guy.

Saturday evening I had plans to attend a KC Royals baseball game with my friend, Brian Orloff. I volunteered to take Anderson so Shelly could enjoy a nice dinner with some of her friends. This is us on our back deck before heading to the stadium.

Now on this next part I could be accused of being a whiner and complainer or I could be praised for wanting Shelly to have some girl time at the expense of my brave attempt of handling an 18 pound, 6-month old, very active little boy for the better part of 4 hours...all by myself.

So we get there and park. I put the boy on my chest in his Baby Bjorn and strap on my little ruck sack. Decided not to carry in the baby blue motherly looking diaper bag and instead chose a camouflage backpack. I walk through the parking lot of tail gaters and receive many oohs and aahhs as Anderson bounced along and just took in all the sights. Life was going well and I thought, "this won't be so bad". We enter the stadium, link up with Brian, and begin our tour all around the newly renovated stadium. That took about 45 minutes. The boy continued to just sit there and enjoy looking at everything.

We get to our seats just as the National Anthem begins. Following that and in true pre-game tradition, the sound in the stadium went from a nice song to deafening noise. Sound bits from Ozzy Osbourne's "Crazy Train" followed by ACDC's "Thunderstruck" combined with everyone clapping and stomping and the announcer pumping up the crowd was just too much for the young lad.

Again, the boy is facing away from me so I cannot see his face. You know how when a baby cries they get to the bottom of the cry and then begin again at the top with a hearty scream. Well, that was my first indication he did not like all that noise. Amazing I could hear it above everything else but when I looked at him I saw eyes closed, tears streaming down his cheeks, mouth wide open, and a beat red face. I immediately took him back into the concourse and he went silent except for an occasional whimper. Guess I should have know he'd be scared by a sound like that which he had never experienced before.

We were able to sit back down but every time people clapped and it got loud he'd cry again. So, for most of the remainder of the game, I stood at the top of the seats and held him like a sack of potatoes.

I must admit it was tough. Not having the stroller there meant there was never a time to lie him down anywhere. And without Shelly there we couldn't just transfer him back and forth when he tired one of us out. And Brian Orloff is a great dude but just hasn't really been around a baby in about 20 years and might have been a little intimidated.

I changed him twice in the family bathroom and fed him once. Other than that, for about 3 hours I held him and wrestled him. Needless to say, my arms are still sore 4 days later.

So I have a new found respect for Shelly and all mothers out there who handle children often by themselves for long periods of time. In these pictures, he and Shelly enjoy some Eskimo kisses.

In the end, Shelly enjoyed a nice peaceful evening with some of her friends and I picked up some major brownie points along the way. So once the feeling comes back in my left arm I'll know it was all worth it.

And what would a blog post be without a picture of my little boy once again sticking out his tongue for the camera.