Like clockwork my neighbor in the office asks me about my weekend. Monday mornings I’m like a zombie from The Walking Dead – full of grunts, moving slowly and oblivious to anything except gun shots and car alarms.
I’m sure my co-worker is tired of my “fine” and “nothing” answers, so I figured I’ll put it into words and pictures so she doesn’t have to deal with my ass.
So this is how my weekend was. But first.
Earlier in the week my wife was doing laundry and the twins asked to play in their cribs. They like to wrestle with each other in the same crib some times, and since it’s 1000 times easier to do things while their contained, my wife obliged. She periodically checked in on them to make sure Ellie didn’t have Gray in a chokehold when she noticed Gray eating something. She assumed it was stuffing from one of their plush animals, grabbed the substance, and stared in horror at two large boogers in her hand.
“Grayson!” she exclaimed. “You cannot eat your boogers!”
Gray corrected her.
“Ellie’s boogers,” he stated.
The twins wrapped up a four-week t-ball class through the City of Corona’s Parks and Community Services department. It is an introduction to the sport for 2 and 3-year-olds. Twenty-something instructors teach the kids not to run to third base first, how to throw like a robot and catch a ball as if one’s hands are the mouth of an alligator chomping on its next prey. At one point Gray decided to run from his position near first base out to right field and I got to chase him down.
Ellie played statue most of the class. Rather than swing the bat at the tee, she stood there. Rather than throw the ball back to the instructor in the field, she stared at him. It’s fun when that happens.
Gray, however, ripped the best hit out of all 15-or-so toddlers when he lofted a solid line drive towards right center and my frustrations melted away.
My wife worked that night at the hospital. After dinner, baths and pajamas I coined a new nickname for Gray – Bam Bam. Gray is the proverbial bull in a china shop. Whatever he does, he does it with brute and recklessness. Just before bed he was pounding his fat red plastic baseball bat against the floor repeatedly. I called Bam Bam to come over and he started chanting “Bam bam bam bam bam”. I’m working on making it stick.
As one t-ball class ended, another City of Corona program began. For the next eight weeks Gray and Ellie will play actual “games” for an hour every Saturday. If my brain didn’t spill out of my head in the introductory class, I guarantee you it will now.
The first session was a repeat of running bases, throwing and fielding. Next week the games begin. We’re Team Black. Time to refill that Xanax prescription.
My grandpa recently turned 87 so I ditched the family and headed to his house for pizza to celebrate. Meanwhile, my wife and her mom took the kids on a photo shoot and captured this fuzzy moment:
At night I watched the listless Angels finally manage a thrilling, come-from-behind victory and grabbed a couple of Mike Trout bobble heads in the process. Thank you, Angels Stadium staff, for turning your backs just as I entered the gates for the free giveaways.
In December Kristina and her family offered to help her grandpa build a patio cover in his backyard. Sunday was phase two of the project. This photo will summarize my ability to use tools to build or repair anything:
But I’m fantastic at giving horsey rides. And the twins had a blast. How was your weekend?