At about 1:00 pm Ian's phone rings with our friend Luke Babbitt on the other end.
He says he has two extra tickets to tonight's (last night's) game against the Hawks.
Ian is stoked and I am too since my plan for this week's wow assignment is to do something Blazer related.
And we are obviously going to take our son of five weeks with us. I mean, Ian has always dreamt of taking his son to the Blazer games.
I'm nervous and start thinking through how I'm going to make this work with an infant.
He will be napping when we leave so I should take the Ergo.
There will be nowhere to nurse him so I'll have to pump and take a bottle.
It's raining, but I don't want to wear too many layers since I'll be holding him the whole time.
Also, throw everything in the diaper bag. Just in case.
Five hours later we hop in the car and head to the game.
Greyer falls asleep. Right on time.
We park and Ian scarfs down a sandwich while I change Greyer's diaper in the back seat.
Even though I woke him, he doesn't seem to mind laying his nakey bottom on the cold portable changing pad.
I squish him into the Ergo carrier like a sausage and he fusses but I bounce and he stops.
Ian's in charge of the diaper bag and we run through the rain without an umbrella.
I think I'm crying in frustration, but it's just raindrops that are running down my cheeks. Not tears.
Ian heads to will-call while I duck for cover.
I feel like a soggy street rat now that I'm under the lights where other people can see me, but I take a deep breath and calm down.
Ian approaches with the tickets and, as we enter, the security lady looks suspiciously at my front pack.
"It's just a baby," I say.
She smiles with warm eyes and asks to look in the diaper bag.
I worry she'll confiscate my sacred bottle of pumped milk since they don't allow liquids.
How will I feed my child?!
I wore my boy-sized jersey and there is certainly no room to stuff a baby up in there for a feeding!
But alas, she takes a quick peek with her little flashlight and we move on.
I stop by the restroom to fix my drippy hair but I'm insecure standing in front of the mirror with the dry women checking their own reflections.
I opt to for a pee, but how will I unbutton my pants with this Ergo carrier buckled around my hips?!
I wash my hands and take a walk-by glance in the mirror as I dry off my hands.
Wishing I'd at least worn a hood, I comb my fingers through my mane knowing not much was gonna help at this point.
We find our seats and settle in with all of our STUFF.
Babies require a lot of stuff, and the leg room at the Rose Garden does not accommodate a lot of stuff.
The lady next to me, sipping her beer through a straw, is thrilled that I have a baby.
And I am glad that we are in one of the loudest buildings in town incase he throws a fit.
Then I wish he'd cry because then I'd at least know he was alive in that Ergo...
I spend the first quarter of the game trying to reposition his head in that thing, but he prefers face down.
|^Notice lady drinking beer through straw.|
I can't relax so I take him out.
He squints his eyes under the lights with a faint B-L-A indented on his forehead from being pressed against the embroidery on my jersey.
He falls back to sleep in my arms and I relax knowing he's alive.
Until the Blazer dancers come out in their teeny tiny "outfits"? And start grinding on the court.
I want to jump off a cliff in insecurity (ok, not really but kind of) knowing my husband is watching, but he looks the other way.
His frizzy haired wife wearing a little boy sized jersey with drool on the front.
I try to smile and refuse to cry.
The dancers leave the floor and Greyer wakes up just in time for the second quarter.
Ian explains who these new players are, but all I'm watching is the crowd.
I just love to people-watch and the Rose Garden is the perfect place to do just that.
After about eight inches into a Red Rope and three minutes into halftime, we start snapping the above photos.
I'm sure we are annoying the people around us, but basketball is a big deal in this family, so of course we are going to document our sons first NBA game!
We sit through the rest of the game trying to cover Greyer's ears every time we score a basket, but the game is close and it's getting too loud.
I grab him from Ian and run out of the arena right before another cheer fest.
I wait in the lobby for the last eight minutes and exchange smiles from kind baby-loving strangers.
Never in my life have I talked to so many strangers within eight minutes.
People just looooove my baby!
A girl runs down the lobby blurting the F-word and covers her mouth in embarrassment as soon as she sees my little guy laying on my chest. I give her an understanding smile that says "It's ok. He's too young to understand you anyway."
The fan-photo photographers ask to take our picture for the website, but I know they just want a pic of the youngest fan in the building.
I don't refuse, although the last thing I want is this frizzed-out head of mine being published on the world-wide web...
The game ends and passersby keep pointing and staring at my baby.
I get it.
He starts screaming and I head back to our seats to dig out that precious bottle of milk I pumped earlier in the day.
It takes him a minute to latch on since this is only his second time taking a bottle.
But he chugs away...
We are greeted by friends we didn't know are here along with more strangers asking about/congratulating us on/taking pictures of our new baby.
I'm tired and Greyer keeps fussing, so we bid farewell to the Rose Garden and head home.
Will I take Greyer to the next game? Probably not.
Did I enjoy myself? Probably not.
But did I have fun? Definitely.
And I know Ian had a blast and that's what's most important sometimes... What makes your husband happy, even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.