A sneak peek of the Halloween cuteness.
10.31.2008
10.30.2008
All A Blur
I looked at the calendar today and realized that this weekend, on Saturday, Cupcake will be 19 months old -- closer to two now than one, more a child than a baby, walking more and talking more and exploring more and thinking she needs us less and less. Sunrise, sunset, swiftly flow the days.
She's been part of our everyday lives now for almost eight months, almost as long as my sister's been growing her Boba in her belly, and less time by half than we were waiting for Cupcake to find us, and yet it feels like it was only yesterday that we held her for the first time, that we opened our home and our hearts to what we waited so long for. Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years.
And I hardly remember any of it. We went from formula to milk, mashed green beans to beef stew, "daaaah" and "maaaah" to "Daddy" and "Mommy" and "pretty" and "please." What happened? Where did the time go? Who is this person who runs around in my baby's shoes? How do I hold on without holding her back? Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, blossoming even as we gaze. One season following another, laden with happiness and tears.
She's been part of our everyday lives now for almost eight months, almost as long as my sister's been growing her Boba in her belly, and less time by half than we were waiting for Cupcake to find us, and yet it feels like it was only yesterday that we held her for the first time, that we opened our home and our hearts to what we waited so long for. Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years.
And I hardly remember any of it. We went from formula to milk, mashed green beans to beef stew, "daaaah" and "maaaah" to "Daddy" and "Mommy" and "pretty" and "please." What happened? Where did the time go? Who is this person who runs around in my baby's shoes? How do I hold on without holding her back? Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers, blossoming even as we gaze. One season following another, laden with happiness and tears.
Thrill of Victory
Yes.
Yes.
A thousand times, YES!
Photo Credit: New York Times
Oh my God, I LOVE YOU GUYS. Thanks for a great season. And congratulations on a well-deserved championship.
UPDATE FROM THE INTERNETS:
Yes.
A thousand times, YES!
Photo Credit: New York TimesOh my God, I LOVE YOU GUYS. Thanks for a great season. And congratulations on a well-deserved championship.
UPDATE FROM THE INTERNETS:
Oh yes, it sure was.So when that final out comes, what it does is provide a single unified moment of pure, shared ecstasy. Everyone explodes together, in that one instant. And that’s what you saw last night. And that’s why that moment is forever. You REMEMBER that last out. You remember Orosco. You remember Wainwright. And now, you remember Lidge.
Say what you will about FOX, but after the game ended, the network was smart enough to simply replay the moment of Brad Lidge’s strikeout again and again and again. From every angle. We saw Ryan Howard react. We saw Jimmy Rollins react. We saw the dugout react. We saw Lidge react. We saw fans jump higher than a moon shot. We saw outfielders instantly break into a sprint towards the mound, hands raised. It was if they had isolated a camera on every single person in the stadium in order to capture them in that one fleeting second.
And God dammit, it was glorious.
10.29.2008
Crazy Baseball Thought Of The Day
... brought to us by the letters P, H, L, and the numbers 0 and 8, and also our friends over at The 700 Level:
We're emotional wrecks. We have all at some point stated that we'd do unsanitary things to ourselves "if it meant a title." Some seven year olds have seen enough already to question if they'd witness a title in their lifetime. A recent trend seems to indicate that some fans are "trying not to get too hooked" on our teams just to "protect themselves." We lost our minds long ago. I'm tired of complaining about it. Tonight, a ball IS gonna fall our way. Literally. Right into section 145 in the bottom of the ninth to send us into Broad Street euphoria and a potential apocalypse. That fiasco on Monday night was the last straw. The final countdown. The seventh circle. We're here. We've made it out of the figurative and literal monsoon. It's time. We're up 3-1 in the World Series and we're crafting conspiracy theories following Tropical Storm Selig.WORD.
[Let's be] done with it. We're three innings from freedom. Free from sacrificing family members, serving prison sentences, and cleaning up vomit. Free from bad bounces, fallacious forecasts, and false hope. And for god's sake, we're three innings to freedom from "there's always next year."
There's always next year, but there's always tonight, too.
Let's go win a championship.
Daddy's Little Devil
All this week, I've been dressing Cupcake in Halloween-themed and/or orange clothes -- a little "thing" of mine, to celebrate the season. Halloween is my second-favorite holiday of the year, right after Christmas, and I gotta tell you, if Halloween involved more gift wrap, I'd be much more into it.
Anyway ... today Cupcake is wearing a onesie that is TOTALLY HER, and also TOTALLY ACCURATE. She takes right after me, but she's her Daddy's girl, and she knows it. (Hey, I SAID she takes right after me.) Click on the pic to go to my Flickr photostream and see the full-length shot.
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