Take me out to the Ballgame!

We got free tickets to the Brave's game on Saturday night. Four of them! And a parking pass! To a normal person, this is awesome. To a 5-year-old who'd been told she'd be going to see Kung Fu Panda that day, it is nothing less than the worst tragedy known to man. The tears, the lashing out, and the screaming brought me back to my elementary school days, watching helplessly as my younger sister bashed her head against the wall. How in the world did my mother handle that? (and how is it that my sister remains blissfully childless while I deal w/ her karma?) I can't do it. It's daddy's turn when the crazy comes out. It took about 10 minutes and her overhearing me call my mom to take her while we take Layla out to get her to calm the F down and listen to us. Then today she rationally tells my mom "Kung Fu Panda is there everyday. We can do that any other time" Where was that logic on Saturday?!
It was the first time we all went to a game as a family. I took the girls last summer to their first game. I couldn't even tell you who we played, it's a bit difficult trying to watch a ballgame with a crazy toddler and a 1-year-old. Who knew? This game wasn't much different. We stopped to eat beforehand to avoid paying $10 for a hotdog but God help me those damn vendors walk around just temping young children. "I want one of those blue things! No red thing! I want a red thing!" Doesn't even know what it is, but she wants one and she wants one NOW! I tell her at 8:00 she can have one, we just ate. Remember? That hotdog in the car? Yes, that was your dinner. No we're not eating here. No it's not 8:00 yet. See that clock? Over there on the wall. Next to the big yellow pole. The big yellow one! Ok, here's my watch. Tell me when it say eight zero zero. No that says seveN zero eight. It's not the same. You didn't miss it. No, that's 7:24. No, 7:32. Not yet, only 7:35. It IS fair that other kids have stuff and you don't, they probably didn't throw a temper tantrum at home. No, it's just 7:43. DO NOT TALK TO ME AGAIN UNTIL THE WATCH SAYS EIGHT ZERO ZERO! We were a constant form of entertainment for the lady in front of us who kept turning and laughing at this poor mom who was slowly losing her mind.
Chuck at one point asked why I would buy her something when she was obviously driving me crazy and using behavior he didn't want to reward. My logic here is that if she has a giant slushie, she has something in her mouth, making it difficult for her to ask me a question every 5 seconds. We did enjoy the game, despite the crazy. Layla for one, was very well behaved. Her favorite part was all the clapping and was sad whenever it stopped. Mia loved the Tomahawk Chop and the fireworks that happened on the one homerun (thank you Chipper!) we saw before we hightailed it out of there at the 7th inning. Since fireworks were part of the bargain of going to the game, I hate to think of the aftermath if Mia hadn't gotten to see them. I should send Mr. Jones a thank you note.

17th row baby right behind "my boy" Franceour

That was some nice scenery, let me tell you.