We made the trek to Pittsburgh Sunday morning to see the Pirates take on the Rockies in Remy's very first MLB game.
I was all..."I'm bringing my camera and I'm going to take a million pictures!"
Riiiiight. Sure. Okay, Jessica.
We should have known better.
Because Remy is still basically a lump of baby potato, I carried him in his sling all day. ALL DAY LONG.
Add to that, a 20 pound purple leather bag and this girl could barely move her arms let alone lift a camera.
But shout out Instagram for being my only real mode of documenting the day. Side note: I love Instagram. I'm obsessed with Instagram. If you are a Facebook friend of mine then you know of my deep abiding love for Instagram. Hey, if you want to see 1000 pictures of my kids and what I ate for lunch, (REALLY EXCITING STUFF) then feel free to follow from your fancy iPhone device. The username is jessicahelm.
This happened before we even got a mile from the house. I should have taken the hint from the universe and turned around and gotten back into bed.
Insert assorted pictures of Pittsburgh.
And this would pretty much be the only picture from my camera.
We had great seats. Second row from the field, great.
There was no shade. Within 20 minutes, my children, the same children who used to play outside in 90 degree heat and 90% humidity every day in Louisiana, started complaining that the 80 degree sunshine was just too much for their Yankee sensibilities.
(Insert meltdown of children.)
GIANT, NO GOOD, MISERABLE MELTDOWN.
Remy remained a well-behaved lump of baby potato cuteness.
By the end of the game, we were a crowd of cranky, tired, hungry whiners.
But nothing a trip to Chili's couldn't fix.
Moral of the story?
I will never take three kids to a baseball game unless we sit under an overhang.
Also, my kids have obviously inherited some freak genetics that give them the ability to sit in the sun all day and not get sunburnt.
Me? Not so much.
Never again, indeed.