The Family That Baseballs Together, Stays Together

It's no big secret that I am a true blue Dodgers fan. Year after year, I am a glutton for punishment as those boys in blue toy with my emotions. Each season, I think this is it! This is our year. I stick it out to the bitter end, and believe me, the end typically is bitter. Disheartened but not deterred, I look ahead with hope to spring, when my faith is renewed with the smell of pine tar, beer and hot dogs.

I tell you this because this year, I decided that I haven't suffered at the hands of the Dodgers or the baby terrorist quite enough. Nope! I had the brilliant idea that a road trip to spring training from San Diego to Arizona with an infant would be the best thing ever. I usually think of myself as an intelligent girl, but decisions such as these tend to make me and those around me question my sanity. Much like the Dodger baseball season, our road trip was filled with peaks and valleys, hope and desperation, the freedom of the open road and the solitary confinement of the car. 

Rather than regale you with a long tale of our misadventure, I will instead give you a visual montage of what a Greene family road trip looks like.

We started out stoked, excited for the adventure ahead. The baby terrorist instantly fell asleep, a sign of good things to come. Around El Centro, we were just starting to feel bored when we realized that we were getting a free air show! The Blue Angels were practicing, so we thought we should stop and have a look.

Feeling spunky, we got the baby terrorist out of the car and took a family photo. 

As you can see, we are all having a great time, baby terrorist included. However, good times were not to last long. A few miles down the road, the baby decided she was just about done with the car seat and she was going to tell us all about it.

Our love of the open road quickly turned into a hatred of all things desert related. Will this road never end? Why haven't we seen a road runner? Why are there so many cactuses? (A fight then ensued about whether or not it is cactuses or cacti. We really know how to party.) For the love of God, will that baby EVER stop CRYING?! Tensions ran high as we crossed the border into Arizona. I looked longingly out the window at a sign pointing toward Mexico, entertaining the idea of opening up my passenger door and doing a fancy tuck roll out of the car, not stopping until I found myself face to face with a tequila shot, a pristine beach, a pitcher of margaritas and a mariachi band singing songs of freedom as they welcomed me, baby and husband free, to a lifetime of leisure. 

And then, just like that, the baby terrorist had cried herself out and fell into a glorious slumber. Renewed, we cranked up the radio and sang along to a little ditty about Jack and Diane. Spring training, here we come! 

We finally made it to Phoenix and to her credit, the baby terrorist handled the game like a champ. It was hot and crowded but she is most definitely our daughter because she rocked her Dodger gear and cheered along with us as LA beat the Padres 5-0.

Because we are crazy and cheap, we thought we'd save ourselves some money and head back to San Diego right after the game. Like all seemingly good ideas, it started out great. Our little road dog was down for the ride.

Alas, the good times did not last long. The baby terrorist employed new tactics to try and convince us to set her free from the car seat. Instead of a high pitched screaming wail, she instead puckered up her perfect pout and looked as sad and forlorn as can be.

It tugged my heart strings and I spent the next 100 miles or so torturing my husband with my fears that I was a terrible mother, sentencing my poor daughter to years of couch time in a therapist's office. I could tell that he was really stoked to have that conversation.

And just as all seemed lost, we finally pulled into our driveway and told ourselves that we had fun fun FUN and we can't wait to do it again NEXT YEAR!! YEAAAH! And you know what? We probably will because it is misadventures like this that make us a family and let's face it, the family that baseballs together, stays together.