Goodbye, Lilly

Lilly, living her best life in Quarantine.

Every day has been the same these last few weeks, until today. At 2:20am, Lilly went to be with Nana. We are so glad she was fine, until she wasn’t. Tuesday was just another day for our old gal–two square meals, lots of playtime with Tyler and Salem, and a nice long walk during which she pulled on the leash as hard as ever. Wednesday morning we woke up to the evidence of a sick dog all over the basement, which isn’t all that unusual for Lilly, who occasionally treated herself to a piece of mulch or something dead. We also though the kids may have been feeding her too much people food as they’ve been playing “dogs” for a few weeks and often have little food dishes of Cheerios strewn about the house. But by Wednesday evening, Lilly was very lethargic and just not acting like herself. We are fortunate that our vet is a childhood friend of Eric’s who also happens to be our neighbor, so she came for a house call at about 9pm. During the time the vet was there, Lilly became much more sick. Her heartbeat was irregular and her breathing was labored. We realized something was wrong, much more than an upset tummy. Eric took her to the emergency vet and we discovered she had a pericardial infection. There wasn’t anything we could do, nor anything we could have done differently. We hoped to stabilize her overnight so we could bring her home in the morning for whatever would come next. But, the 24/7 vet called us at 1:30am and told us Lilly’s heart was getting worse, not better, and that we should come in if we wanted to. We woke up the kids and visited with Lilly one more time. We had our last family snuggle at 2:20am.

Eric found Lilly online in mid-2008. He wanted a dog to help him find a girlfriend (and hike and hang out with him in Minturn, of course). At the time, Vail employees could bring their dogs to work, and Eric did just that, walking her through the Village daily while onlookers admired such an adorable puppy. He did an excellent job training her and Lilly remained a well-behaved dog. Sure, she ate a pen, and cut her paw on glass in the river, and nearly died after impaling herself on a log while we were searching for a Christmas tree. One hundred fifty stitches and 35 staples later, she was fine. When Eric and I met in late 2008, he had Lilly on her leash. How could I resist such a cute puppy?

Lilly lived with us in Minturn, Edwards, and finally Erie. She was our only little love for years. We brought her home a free stuffed animal from the furniture store to be her friend, but she ate him.

Jumping for snowballs, April 2020

Lilly hiked countless trails and summited many peaks with Eric. She was athletic and never slowed down. Eric has dozens of photos documenting all of their trips. Lilly even road-tripped to Ohio in 2010, where Macie, my parents’ golden retriever, taught her how to jump off the boat. Lilly loved adventure, same as us. She was always game for a walk and could hear us jangling her collar on the hall tree from anywhere in the house and she’d come running, ready to go. She loved playing in the snow. She adored Tyler and Salem and was kind and gentle with all children. There will be another post of Lilly photos because it’s going to take some time to find them all–we weren’t ready for this.

Our kids have always gotten along with Lilly, but during Quarantine Togetherness Time (QTT), they positively adored her. Lilly was the third amigo in their games of playing pretend and rarely didn’t participate. She let Salem sit on her, cover her with blankets, read to her, and walk her in endless loops around the house and backyard (something about clipping and unclipping Lilly’s leash and harness is irresistible to Salem). Tyler didn’t just play with Lilly, he pretended to be a dog right alongside her. He drank water out of a bowl and ate snacks without using his hands to be just like her.

Lilly is a part of our family and is in most of our family photos. The kids even made a snowdog of her after our last snowfall.

Hiking Mt Sanitas in Boulder
April 2020
Also April 2020
Our Snow Family

Like most families, every morning during Regular Life tended to be rushed–getting up, getting ready, chores, eating, out the door. But in our slowed-down QTT life, at about 7am, the kids like to come jump into bed with us for a family snuggle. Lilly, too. The five of us laughing and tickling and always making sure Lilly didn’t swipe anyone too hard with her paw. That was hard this morning–the quiet. And Salem, at 3 1/2, asking where Lilly was because she doesn’t understand or maybe doesn’t even remember last night. Tyler thought to take a photo magnet of Lilly outside to play today, so she could still be there with us. It will get better every day, we know, but today is hard. It just rained and Tyler is out looking for a rainbow, which is something we all could use right now.

In 2020, My Last Mother’s Day In My 30s

I’ve worn the dress before. In high school, in 1998, when long dresses were in, it fit me perfectly. Which doesn’t make sense, because I’m at least four inches taller than my mom ever was, but some things in life just don’t make sense. Probably, she wore heels, and I wore Birkenstocks (in 1998, and now, because everything old is new again). I’ll keep it for Salem, because if the dress has survived the last 40+ years, it’s clearly made from some space-age 1970s synthetic fabric and should last forever.

My mom kept a lot of my clothes from when I was very young. I’ll never know if what she kept was specifically because she had pictures of me wearing it, or because she loved it, or because she just kept lots of stuff. Lots. I know my mom would adore seeing Salem in these outfits, so I’ve done my best to make sure I take photos of her wearing them. Some are obvious choices to have kept–sailor dresses, fancy Christmas clothes, something I wore on my birthday. Some are seemingly random–a classic 80s graphic tshirt, a nightgown. Is there a story behind these items? Did she tell me and I forgot, or did I never ask? Likely, she was planning on telling me as Salem grew old enough to wear the clothes.

The bathing suit photo hung for a long time in our house. Who takes their two-year-old to Olan Mills for an indoor bathing suit shoot? Was this a thing? I’ll never know. But my mom loved this photo. She even kept the towel. So naturally, I took Salem to JC Penney for a re-creation. Salem is only a couple of months older than I was (both about 2 1/2), but is much taller with much more hair!

I wore this wool sailor dress for my 3rd birthday as dutifully noted on the back of the 3×5 prints. I actually forgot to put this on Salem in November on her birthday, so her photos are from February and again you can see she is so much taller than I was! That dress was to my knees and is barely covering her bum. Also–ascot, sash, whatever.

This nightgown is one of Salem’s current favorites. I’m guessing my mom kept it because she really did catch me with my hand stuck in the cookie jar–and took a picture of me crying on the counter. Check out that early microwave! We were fancy in Lakewood, Ohio.

There are plenty of reasons why this Mother’s Day isn’t what I thought it would be. (Could be? Should be?)

We’re in the midst of a global pandemic. Today we are at home, playing inside and outside, and eating home-cooked food, like we have every day for the past eight weeks.

Eric is actually home. We have a running joke that he’s always gone hiking for Mother’s Day, and I’m always with the kids in Ohio for Father’s Day. But this year, we’re all together.

My mom isn’t here. I spent my first Mother’s Day with her here in Colorado, and my second I went to Ohio with Tyler and told her I was pregnant with Salem. She didn’t get to see me as a mother of two on Mother’s Day.

Jess is coming over later, with her dad and Sean and Jack. Because her mom isn’t here to celebrate with us, either. She got two Mother’s Days with three generations, same as me.

2020 is my last year in my 30s. Forty is out there. I am so proud of Tyler and Salem and how they made me a mom, and me and Eric parents, and us a family. But I still miss my mom.

Demo Day

Wednesday is the day we finally say good-bye to those awesome builder-grade oak cabinets, cracked and peeling Formica countertops, and stained shallow sink that made my mom cringe nine-and-a-half years ago when we bought our first home. After we did the basement last winter we were like, hey, this is fun moving all our earthly goods around all of creation in order to have a more beautiful (and clean) living space. So, we called the same contractor, and voila!

Except it wasn’t actually that easy because kids and life and how can you really tell what things will look like from 4×8 samples of countertops and one bitty cabinet door? We brought home samples three times that just sat on the kitchen table until the cabinet place was like hey, bring back our stuff. Lucky for me (and apparently not all partners are this lucky) Eric pretty much surrendered all decision making for this room and the choices were all mine. We’re not moving around the footprint of the kitchen as there’s not a lot of variation possible in our tiny, yet open, floor plan. Because of this, the whole shebang might take as little as a week! A week!

On the last day of oak cabinets, there was much rejoicing and drinking of wine.

Back in the 80s, when my brother and I were little, my parents did something very fun for us kids that I still remember. There was wallpaper all over the house (re: 80s) and when it came time to change the wallpaper (not paint, that would be sooooo “passe” as my mom would say) my parents would hand over the markers and let us go to town ON THE WALLS. I remember the birds in the master bedroom, the tennis players in the den, and the eagles (‘MERICA!) in the family room. We colored on them all. What a hoot, as a kid, to be able to break the rules and do something so naughty!

So tonight, we gave Tyler and Salem Sharpies and let them go to town on the Formica countertops. Rule-following Tyler could not quite believe this but the wild child set herself free with every color we had. We do have some concern that Salem will repeat this on another surface or in the new kitchen, so we will be locking up the Sharpies until further notice. But, it was worth it.

Before
After
Practicing her “straight lines” she does at Montessori
So careful
We played tic-tac-toe!
See ya, Formica Crapola

Salem got some Sharpie on the laminate floor. In case you weren’t aware, the magic potion that removes Sharpie is….hand sanitizer. Hairspray also works. Literally drip or spray some on the offending marker, and wipe off. This won’t work on a porous surface, but it’s solid gold on a smooth one!

Four Months

It’s been four months today since my mom died.

There’s so much to freak out about it’s impossible to write it all down.

One strange fact I can’t let go of:  Salem was about 4 1/2 months old when she lost her Nana, whom I know loved her the most.  Salem is now almost 9 months old.  I have taken comfort in the fact that Nana knew Salem for more than half of her tiny, short, just-beginning life. She loved her for 4 1/2 months.

Two weeks after my mom died, I could still stay that she knew Salem for most of her wild baby life.  Two months after my mom died, I could still say that she knew Salem for more than half of her bold little life. But very soon, the math will turn around.  4 1/2 + 4 1/2 = 9.  After Salem is 9 months old, my mom will have known her for less than half of her sweet, perfect life.  As time goes on, the overlap between Salem’s life and my mom’s will become very, very tiny. A dot on the timeline of both of their lives.

My mom spent a little over two weeks, total, with Salem.

She held her when she was 8 days old:

December 3, 2016

December 4, 2016

She held her for a week at Christmas:

December 21, 2016

And she held her in March when we visited Cleveland over Spring Break:

March 25, 2017

March 27, 2017

I have maybe a hundred, or more, photos of my mom with Tyler.  But this is all I have of my mom with Salem.  Five photos.  Five photos of my mom and my bitty baby who is her mini-me.

 

It’s the lips, and her smile.  We see her Nana in her every day.  Even Tyler calls it out when he sees her “Bonnieface.”  I can’t believe my mom isn’t here to see her grow up.  Tyler, either, but even at 2 1/2 she could have a conversation with him, play with him, read books with him. They say he won’t remember, but he might surprise us all.  Salem doesn’t have a chance.

She has five photos.

One Year Ago

March 7th, 2016 was an emotional day for us.  It was a Monday.  Tyler was exactly 19 months old.  And it was the fourth (and final) attempt for us to conceive through IUI.  We arrived at Conceptions with dread outweighing the excitement.  We’d been down this road three times already in the past four months, each time the anticipation waning and the fear growing.  What if it didn’t work?  Thankfully, we never had to answer that question.  Two weeks later we learned we were pregnant.

With Tyler, Eric diligently took a photo of me every day and made an amazing video to document that special time in our lives.  You can see that here.  It still makes me cry.

With Salem….second child.  I’m sorry, sweetie.  We just weren’t that committed to the daily, or even weekly, photo.  But here are a few shots of me in some really cute maternity dresses growing a really cute baby.

24 weeks. First day of school!

28 weeks.

30 weeks. Hiking near Maroon Bells outside of Aspen.

31 weeks. That’s my classroom.

34 weeks. Post-season baseball nearly sent me into labor. GO TRIBE!

35 weeks. The leaves have fallen but I’m still wearing flip-flops.

38.5 weeks. The first snow of the year, so we had to go outside at school and see it.

Salem arrived eight days after the snowy photo, three days before her due date.  She’s now just over three months old.  When people say so much can change in a year, it’s amazingly true.  One year ago we didn’t know if we’d ever have another baby, and now we have Salem, who’s not even a newborn anymore.

Loving life!

And Tyler…he’s now been around for THREE March 7ths.

7 months old, at a brewery.

19 months old, at a brewery.  We made Salem the very next day.

OK OK both of those are from March 6th, which was a weekend both years. Besides, once he hit 100 breweries by age 2, he kind of got over it.

31 months old, heading to church.

He has an adorable dinosaur button-down on but insisted on wearing his “baseball jacket” which he will make you snap up to the neck.

I know most people don’t recognize the day their babies were made, but for us, those days were really significant.  Tyler was made on Eric’s 33rd birthday! So March 7th, here’s to you, an otherwise uneventful day.  Thank you!

 

 

On the Eve of the End of Leave

Salem will be eleven weeks old on Friday, and I’m headed back to work on Wednesday. I’m so, so glad I was able to spend more time with her–I went back when Tyler was only seven weeks old.

I knew maternity leave would feel like a blur with the holidays and visits from family and friends, but WOW, did it go by quickly.  I had been worried about being cooped up in the house with a newborn because I had loved being able to walk and walk and walk with Tyler in the stroller in August and September (the best month of the year in Colorado!) Although we had some incredibly nice days, there were many wintry days this January.  (I don’t remember December.  Between Christmas and all of Salem’s crying, I just don’t remember much about December.)

The first couple of cold, windy days in January I started to go crazy with Salem stuck at home.  She cried a lot for awhile there, and daytime TV is terrible.  But after a sunny patch and after Salem got just a bit older, I began to look forward to the next blustery day.  I loved spending time with this baby girl, just holding her and looking at her and really, really wondering who she would look like as she grows up.

All of a sudden she was smiling.  And cooing.  And grabbing at her toys on the playmat. She didn’t need to be bounced for hours anymore.  She could sit in the Bumbo and watch her brother run and play.  What happened to my wrinkly, fragile newborn?  The one who wanted to eat every twenty minutes?  The one who fit into newborn clothes until she was nine weeks old?

She went to daycare today for the first time, for practice.  She did great.  My strong, sweet little champ who took a bottle when she was four days old and will let anyone feed it to her. She even came home in the same outfit I sent her in.  Tidy, like her brother.

I keep telling myself I’m going back midweek for a reason–a short week, followed by two more short weeks (President’s Day).  Then it’s March, and Spring Break will be here before we know it.  I wish I had more time at home but summer is just around the corner (which is basically the whole point of being a teacher.)  We will settle into a new routine tomorrow, a new, temporary way of life.  Wrangling two kids is already significantly less challenging than it was a month ago.

Salem is a peach.  We love her so, so much.  Here is a look back, in lots of photos (and a few videos), at her first eleven weeks of life.  I hardly recognize this little peanut…

4 days

8 days

17 days

19 days

21 days

23 days

24 days

26 days

28 days

29 days

1 month

1 month

One of my favorites

5 weeks

Another favorite

6 weeks

A favorite

7 weeks

 

8 weeks

2 month checkup

9 weeks

First dress!

10 weeks

Salem, Day Nine

We had a photographer come to our house the weekend after Salem was born for some newborn and family photos.  Eric spent the night before teaching Tyler the difference between his “cheese face” and “smile.”  Tyler (mostly) figured it out.  Salem was very awake for a 9-day-old baby.  We love them (the photos, and our kids)!

       

Salem peed on me. Again.

         

Waiting for Baboo #2

Baboo #2 was due November 28th.  I was blissfully confident I would make it to my due date–after all, Tyler was three days late.  Salem arrived three days early, which was more than excellent after a somewhat interesting third trimester.

Back in September, my fundal measurement–the superscientific measurement of your pregnant belly from pubic bone to top of the uterus using a tape measure–was small. Normally, your centimeters match your weeks pregnant.  But all of a sudden I was measuring almost four centimeters smaller than I should have.  I wasn’t alarmed–after all, the way they do it seems kind of ridiculous, I felt fine, and our 20 week ultrasound showed baby growing on track.  But the OB wanted another ultrasound, so we happily obliged.  We learned that our baby was pretty small, particularly the baby’s head–it was in the 3rd percentile.  The OB sent us to see a specialist for a more in-depth ultrasound.  She wanted to confirm the baby was growing and it wasn’t a case of IUGR, intrauterine growth restriction. Or Zika.  What was happening?!  We stayed positive and tried not to think too much about it.  There was nothing we could do about it.  But the OB told us if they did suspect IUGR the baby would be delivered at 34 weeks.  Which was a week after we received this news.  It was a tad unsettling to say the least.

Fortunately, the next ultrasound both confirmed our baby had a tiny head and also that there was no growth concern, and it was overwhelmingly likely that we would just have a proportionally smallish baby with a dainty noggin.  Tyler’s head has always measured below the 10th percentile, and I can fit a child’s XS ski helmet on my cranium, so it follows that our baby had a genetically small head.  Because of my “advanced maternal age” (I don’t remember getting old, BTW) I would receive weekly ultrasounds for the remainder of my pregnancy.  Baby’s head continued to be small–at the very end, we were down in the 1st percentile.  But still, we were told not to worry, so we didn’t.

We enjoyed a wedding weekend in Cincinnati.

We stayed with dear old college friends Jen & Mark, and their son Ryan.

It was so fun to see these two shaggy blondes play together!

Playing in the fountains at Washington Park.

It was SO HOT and SO HUMID, especially for September. Thanks, Ohio, for always showing Eric your finest weather qualities.

We had beers at MadTree and the boys played cornhole.  We visited more breweries and hiked in the park.  We played wiffleball and Eric hit Jen in the neck with a ball.

The Moses came out to play, too!

My tiny taster as I was still pregnant.

Graeter’s ice cream, of course. We also had Skyline!

OU girls: Jen, Mandy, Rebecca, and me.  At this time, six kids between us all but only two made the photo.

And Nick & Lauren’s wedding reception at the National Underground Railroad Freedom Museum was gorgeous.

Last flight as a family of three.

We enjoyed a beautiful weekend in Aspen.

The Maroon Bells and bright yellow aspens. SUCH a perfect fall day!

Family hike. The previous day it had been snowing so we really lucked out.

Lilly is still going strong.

Throwing rocks in bodies of water is always a winner for Tyler.

We had our 9th(?) Annual Fall Fest with our friends in Winter Park.

We stayed in a wonderful house with the Floods, Taylors, and Smiths.  Tyler approved.

The three pregnant hikers!

Once again we lucked out on weather (late October in Fraser could mean snow) and went for an easy hike. There was a small stream that we crossed by tossing the kids over.  Literally, in the air. Nobody got wet.

Tyler showing Burke the way at the park.  There was a also a skatepark where Tyler was obsessed with watching kids skateboard.

Girls talking, probably about babies.  A really nice, relaxing weekend with excellent food overall.  Even though the hot tub was broken!

We hosted a kid-friendly Holleween Party in lieu of our traditional Happy Holledays ugly sweater party.  I came across an adorable dragon costume for Tyler, so naturally Eric and I went as Khal Drogo and Daenerys Targaryen.  Because I’m the Mother of Dragons, obviously.

My sun-and-stars.

During the World Series, my blood pressure went up.  A couple of nights I thought I might deliver right there on our couch.  But that passed and I was still pregnant and we were still banking on November 28th, the Monday after Thanksgiving.  I had the week of Thanksgiving off from school, and I really wanted to enjoy it with Tyler and getting ready for the holidays.  And for the most part, I did.  Salem’s birth story, coming soon!

Holles Takeover Steamboat

Remember a long time ago I posted a picture of Tyler’s passport photo?  That was because we were supposed to go to Canada on a Holle Family Trip.  Here it is again because it’s THAT good.  We went ahead and ordered a passport, because you never know.

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Tyler, 16 1/2 mos.

As it turns out, we changed the trip to Steamboat Springs.  We had two condos booked in early June, and we were prepared for it to snow…you never know, in the mountains.  But with classic “Holle Timing,” we had a PERFECT week in Steamboat.  It was 80 and sunny every day and we had a blast.  It ended up being Grandma & Grandpa, Eric, Tyler (22 mos), and me, and Andy, Laura, Ethan (6) and Emma (26 mos).

Laura and I started the week off right with the Steamboat 10k.  I was 16 weeks pregnant and it was Laura’s first 10k.  We were overcome with the scenery of the race and managed to run the whole thing…GO LAURA!

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Just beautiful!

We loved the race so much we went out and ran parts of the route again later in the week.

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Tyler stealing my orange slices.

We enjoyed the area with hikes, walks, visiting breweries, checking out the local Botanic Gardens, playing mini-golf at our condo, burning ourselves at Strawberry Park Hot Springs, and of course, eating.

Fish Creek Falls
Fish Creek Falls.

Grandma and Tyler at Storm Peak Brewing.
Grandma and Tyler at Storm Peak Brewing.

Cousins at Butcherknife Brewing.
Cousins at Butcherknife Brewing.

Baseball in the park.
Baseball in the park with Grandpa.

Eric and Andy went fly fishing.
Eric and Andy went fly fishing.

Quality time with Grandpa on the porch swing.
Quality time with Grandpa on the porch swing.

Emma and Tyler could swing all day long.
Emma and Tyler could swing all day long.

Every day Emma & Tyler would snuggle in Grandma and Grandpa's bed.
Every day Emma & Tyler would snuggle in Grandma and Grandpa’s bed.

Cousin bath time!
Cousin bath time!

At the base of the ski area, there’s a manmade creek/beach that the kids just adored.  We played there for hours.

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Summertime and the livin’ is easy.

Playing with Grandma.
Playing with Grandma.

Sassy Emma.
Sassy Emma.

Golf...in the hole!
Golf…in the hole!

Night-night stories with Grandma.
Night-night stories with Grandma.

One day we ventured all the way out to Dinosaur National Monument.  It was a loooooong drive, but we got to see amazing fossils and check out Vernal Brewing Company.

Family Fossil shot.
Family Fossil shot.

Future paleontologists?
Future paleontologists?

Eric, watch out!
Daddy, watch out!

Three grandkids=never a good photo.
Three grandkids=never a good photo.

Ethan’s birthday is in June and we got him a Stomp Rocket.  This is probably the best toy ever for a six-year-old who likes to shoot things and for whom you may want to use as target practice yourself.  Although it’s fun to watch the foam rockets shoot as high up into the sky as possible, it’s also amusing to angle the device so that the rockets shoot out–at trees, or the grill, or children.  Ethan is quite fast and managed to escape most attempts of adults trying to get him.  But he did get hit once or twice…it’s a pretty hilarious game for your whole family.

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Ethan rocket-dodging.

Near the end of our trip I convinced the non-seafaring Holles to rent a pontoon on Stagecoach Reservoir.  It was a gorgeous day and we cooked out on the grill on the boat. The kids loved playing captain and I loved working on my tan!

Cruisin'.
Cruisin’.

Bye-bye, wa-wa!
Bye-bye, wa-wa!

We also had to wait until Friday for the gondola to open so we could ride to the top of the mountain and check it out.

Snow at the top!
Snow at the top!

Going back down.
Going back down.

We missed Paul & Colleen on this trip, but we are sure there will be more.  Thanks for the condos, Grandma and Grandpa, and thanks everyone for the memories!

It’s Really Happening

No, this is not about the baby that’s coming in five weeks from yesterday.  Although that’s a pretty big deal, too.  This is about two families who love baseball, who raised children who love baseball, who created a toddler whose favorite thing in his tiny little life is a “baseball party.”

Growing up in Cleveland with my sports-nut father was a blast.  I had a rabbit’s foot I took to Cleveland Municipal to cheer on the Indians (why did I like Cory Snyder?), and later, we had rituals about getting to our seats in section 554 at Jacobs Field.  I remember when the Cavs were royal blue & orange and Brad Daugherty was awesome.  And I thought it was normal that your dad moved an easy chair into the middle of the living room to yell at the Browns waving a Growl Towel while your mom tied dog bones into your pigtails.  I give my mom due credit for allowing and supporting all of this to happen–she’s a fan if not a native, but she might also be at TJ Maxx during a playoff game.

When I moved away twelve (!) years ago, it never occurred to me to root for any other teams.  The Nuggets are pretty bad, for obvious reasons the Broncos are off-limits, and the Rockies are National League, so what harm is it to cheer for them at a game or two? Which brings me to my next point.

I am NOT wearing Cubs. Just a maternity baseball shirt, because, obviously, every girl needs one of those.
I am NOT wearing Cubs. We are at a Rockies game. Just a maternity baseball shirt, because, obviously, every girl needs one of those.

I married a Cubs fan.  A real one.  Eric’s parents both grew up in rural Indiana and Illinois rooting for the Cubs.  Eric’s sister married a bona fide Cubs fan.  I wasn’t sure I’d be allowed in the family (well that and I’m not Lutheran) without pledging allegiance to the Cubs, but because my ties are with the American League, apparently it was OK.

I’ve been to games at Wrigley Field twice with Eric.  He’s been to Progressive Field.  We go to spring training games in Arizona with his parents.  And we’ve seen many Rockies games, including the Cubs in Colorado.  Eric bought tickets when the Cubs were in town in 2014 for the day after Tyler was due.

August 5, 2014
August 5, 2014

He was right–the baby was late and I spent my last night pregnant downtown, watching the Cubs.  Tyler has been to a game in Cleveland, and two in Denver plus a rain delay where we never even got to see a Cubbie throw a pitch. Tyler loves it.  He yells “home run,” “out,” “safe,” and sometimes just “baseball party!”

Tyler's 2nd Baseball Party
Tyler’s 2nd Baseball Party

We joked it would never matter until the Indians played the Cubs in the World Series.  It was 2010 when we got married and that scenario seemed really, really unlikely.  Hell-freezing-over-pigs-flying unlikely.

And yet–here we are.  It has been a wild ride.  Eric never roots against the Indians, and I openly cheer for the Cubs.  Until now.  Other than navigating bath time and bedtime for Tyler, we haven’t even looked at each other tonight since the first bite of chicken caesar salad, exactly 14 minutes before gametime.  Is it weird that two grown adults who love each other are mostly standing in front of the same TV avoiding eye contact?  We promised to cheer for our own team but avoid being nasty to the opposing team.  So far, it’s working.

I’m praying for speedy games because I don’t think my blood pressure is good for the baby. And what if Baboo #2 wants to make an appearance during a World Series game?  I honestly don’t know.  Although it’s been suggested, we are NOT naming our baby JB Holle for Javier Baez.  But Lindor Holle?  That has a nice ring to it…