Turns Out I Don't Control the Weather

Listen, I was pretty sure that I had done all of central Kentucky a favor because when we landed in Phoenix that Saturday afternoon, it was pouring down rain. POURING. This was a welcome sight for most of the locals because they had gone 70 days without any precipitation.

Seventy.

Seven. Zero.

Then the Greens show up and BAM, record rainfall.

You're welcome.

But the next day Arizona did it's thing and turned toasty and gorgeous while back home it snowed so much they had three more snow days.

My apologies to parents all along the east coast.

Mama tried.

Once the flash flooding got under control out in Scottsdale our days fell into a comfortable pattern. Andy left early each morning for the field while we girls would later straggle out of bed and head to the hotel breakfast. Some of us wearing our pajamas. The girls thought the fancy beeping waffle maker was the best. I wondered why all the eggs tasted like they came out of plastic chickens.

Then we would have the mornings to play at a park, go visit some old baseball buddies who call AZ home or hang out at the pool.

It was really rough.

And speaking of friends we got to visit, shout out to my friend Stacy who drove nearly two hours to meet us at a park she had scoped out online. Unfortunately, the inter webs had failed to mention to my dear pal that this park was hosting the Ostrich festival that very weekend.

(Side note: plural for ostrich is ostriches, but plural for cactus is not cactuses. My children are outraged by this, as well they should be.)

So we tried to hoist the children over the giant barricades rolled with the punches and went to another (lamer) park. The kids had a great time and we got to laugh a lot. Which is usually what we do whenever we're together.

Then after all the morning fun was had we got to spend the afternoons with Andy, which was the point of the whole trip. We went to a ballgame, went to the pool and one afternoon the girls painted pottery. It's here I'd like to confess that I may have issues.

I realize this is not new information.

I am not what anyone would call a neat freak, heck you wouldn't even call me neat, but something about gobs of paint being plopped around all willy-nilly nearly had me in the fetal position. I finally looked at Andy and said,

Well, at least we will have a great memory of what our girls were capable of at the ages of 5 and 7.

Which prompted Emily to paint an "E" on one wing of her fairy and a "5" on the other.


                                      

Just what I had envisioned.


As our trip was winding down, the minor league spring games were just starting. We made it out one morning for some baseball action, which was completely ignored by my children once they realized their good buddies Joe and Leila were there. It was like old times for Alysa and I as we have been on this baseball journey together since before there were little baby Bajenarus and Greens. Our hubbies have played against each other, with each other and started out on the coaching journey together.

photo credit: Alysa Bajenaru Photography

                                                 

So at the end of the day, I am just so thankful we made this trip. Spring training was unusually long this year, and being without Daddy for those eight weeks would have tested our limits for sure. Our goodbyes were easier this time as we flew back to the frozen tundra of Kentucky because we knew we were just weeks away from the start of the real season in Mobile.
                         

                             
                                                                    

On the flight home, I was reflecting on just how gosh darn lovely the trip was. The girls traveled well, the time difference wasn't a huge factor, the only drama we had was when Lainey got stung by a bee and that mostly came from me (We were at the big league field. There were news cameras. She's too tall to carry away quickly. NOTHING TO SEE HERE.)

Even the trek to and from the airport in Kentucky was made easier thanks to Andy's uncle who dropped us off and picked us up in our own minivan so we could just hit the road.

Life was grand.

Or at least it was until I pulled into our garage, fresh off the unicorns and daisies day dream, and noticed that our van was smoking from the engine. A lot.


That, my friends, is when life became a country song........

(too be continued)