Last night was the first night of Hanukkah and it was also the first time I’ve done my parental duty of buying and wrapping presents. I know my Mother of the Year medal should be taken away immediately for not doing the gifting thing for my own daughter, but I felt that during her first two Hanukkahs, she a) didn’t really need anything and was still digesting goodies from her birthdays only four months before, and b) also didn’t “get it.” The whole routine of lighting candles when the sun goes down and opening a present for eight consecutive nights was beyond her ability to appreciate the entire holiday. We lit candles and she was mesmerized by the flame and of course we celebrated with our extended families on one or two nights of the eight, but our nuclear version of Hanukkah was minimized to candles and a few decorations around the house.

Princeton has always understood and appreciated Pawnukkah.

Well not this year! Hanukkah came back to the Friedman house. Perhaps it was the joy in celebrating in a homey-home with more space and things to decorate. And perhaps we could see that Madelyn finally reached an age where she gets excited about presents and family time. And she also has awareness for commercial products, so it would be fun to give her the gift of Minnie and Ariel and Kitty and other friends — you know, because the real purpose of Hanukkah is to buy into what Target puts on its shelves. Oh, ‘Murica. But what can I say? I am a sucker for seeing joy in my child’s face, and if it means a handful-and-a-half of colorful, pop culture-related presents in December November and December, then I’m all for it.

The Many Faces of Hanukkah Madelyn

Madelyn has also been learning the dreidel song at her preschool class. It’s amazing how going to a class once a week can sink into our little sponge. She sees the dreidels around the house and sings the song. She even requests singing it with her Daddy at the keyboard.

Last night was the first night of Hanukkah and I was so excited to do with her what I remember my parents doing with me! We ate dinner… except it was far from traditional. I knew we’d be doing the latkes and the whole shebang in a few days, so I made chicken stir fry. Hey, if we eat Chinese food on Christmas, why can’t we do it on Hanukkah?

We set up the candles on the menorah and then as we were about to turn off the lights and gather Madelyn for the prayer, we realized we both had mushy brains and couldn’t remember the melody! Thanks to Rabbi Google, we got back on track, and took turns bringing Madelyn to the menorah as we lit the candles. She was totally into it, and Bryan and I were huge puddles of pride.

As we held her together, she took one last look at the candles, looked back at us, pursed her lips, and began to blow. The last time she was so close to fire, it was her birthday. The innocence of children during the holidays is deliciously cute.

Thankfully, all the candles stayed lit. Having enough oil for eight days? Miracle shmiracle. It’s all about the resistance of a toddler’s blow.

Then we told Madelyn she could pick out one present from the bunch. She stood in front of her choices, put her finger to her chin and went “Hmmmm… Let’s see….” and I quietly giggled over the important life decision in front of her that I so totally remember from my own childhood: Which present to open tonight.

Eeny meeny miney mo!

With no method to her madness, she picked a funny looking present — the one that was hardest for me to wrap — and ripped in. It was an assortment of little toys I picked up in the “stocking stuffer” aisle of Target, actually. A bunch of little Disney things: an Ariel light-up toy, a small Ariel figurine, a Minnie Mouse AND Disney Princess camera, and a Disney Princess soft ball to throw around the house. Kids are so funny when they open presents. Instead of taking each one out to see what’s next, she’d take out one item and begin to play with it, not caring that there was more to see inside. We had to keep reminding her that there was more!

I think her favorite from the lot are her two little cameras. She pushes the button, it makes a shutter sound, and then it displays a picture of a princess or Minnie Mouse. It’s like a modern day ViewMaster, remember those? She thinks she’s taking actual pictures, though, and she tells us to pose, puts the camera up in the air — the way she sees us snapping away at her with our iPhones — and then puts the camera to her cheek to hear the shutter click. It’s the worst shooting technique I’ve ever seen, but it’s adorable and it totally makes sense. To her. Who knows? Maybe this silly little Hanukkah toy from 2013 will inspire her future career as a photographer?

There are seven nights left, including a few family get togethers in the mix, and I can’t wait to see what delights her each night. I hope we are creating special memories and traditions for Madelyn that she’ll remember with joy when she is an adult. And I really hope Costco still carries Yoshidas because it’s the best thing for stir fry ever.

It was truly the first hothothot day of summer. And of course it was also moving day. The moving company I hired brought a truck that was too small and we had to make three trips from the old place to the new one, which meant that our time went longer, and well, cha-ching, cha-ching! Thanks goodness the houses were only about 10 minutes away from each other.

Of course that’s not the first thing that went wrong in the whole process. We bought a house that was a short sale. The selling agent was a rookie with a cocky attitude and a knack for telling lies, except he was bad at it, and I called him out on it several times.

Because it was a short sale, that meant that the sellers did absolutely nothing that sellers usually have to do and their bank was 100% not interested in handling those things for them. There was an oops with our lender, too, and we ended up closing a week late which also cost us money. And when we moved in, we learned about appliances that didn’t work and really weird electrical issues.

They say that moving is never fun and buying a house is a dramatic process. “They” are correct.

The day after the first hothothot day of summer, we demolished the kitchen. Well, we didn’t. The company we hired to remodel it did. For the first three-and-a-half weeks we lived in our new home, we couldn’t really use it much because we knocked down a wall, completely rearranged plumbing, and redid the counters and cabinets. So without a kitchen, we had a lot of takeout (thank goodness for good restaurants nearby). We also gained a lot of pounds (thank goodness for stairs in our house).

By August, just in time for Madelyn’s birthday, our house was in a working and living condition. But, like most young families who buy a new house (in California), we were house poor. So the necessary new furniture and decor slowly trickled it. In fact, it’s still not complete as we still need a dining room set and guest room accommodations, but fortunately, we have no imminent feasts or house guests planned in the foreseeable future.

I haven’t posted much about the house because, really, it didn’t feel like ours until very recently. There’s still a lot that needs to be done in order for me to truly love it (we need a groomed yard — very badly!, a window in the living room, a fresh paint job throughout, window washing, and flowers in the front), but it finally feels like we live in it. Like it’s OURS. Like we’re going to raise the rest of our family here and maybe even some grandkids. We bought this house with the idea that we’d live here for the long run, the way we grew up in our parents’ houses. Bryan’s parents still live in the house he was born into, and my parents sold my childhood home right after I graduated college. Neither of us moved around as kids, and I’d like that for our children as well. Obviously, if it’s possible to upgrade further, certainly we would be open to that, but for this lifestyle we currently know, this house is ours for the long run.

And since it’s ours for the long run, we’re also not in a rush to complete it… except that’s a lie and I am constantly daydreaming about projects I want to do around the house or finishing touches to the outside. The place was actually built in 1966 and I think it looks pretty good for a house so old. The kitchen had been redone several times, we think, and the ceiling’s been scraped, and thank goodness we bought it with air conditioning. The neighborhood is older with quite a few houses still occupied by the original owners. But the house, like the neighborhood, is still warm and welcoming and a very regular suburban homestead.

Most importantly, Madelyn and Princeton have so much room to play! We have four bedrooms, and two of them are currently used, one we are using as an office, and the other one is Madelyn’s playroom (until we have to deliver the bad news that she loses the playroom in exchange for a baby sibling… in the future… IN THE FUTURE… this is how rumors get started). The living room has lots of great floor space, our family room opens up into the kitchen thanks to our remodel, and the house came with lots of storage and closet space. Going from our 1500 square foot condo to our new house, we definitely swim in it, but I have a feeling it will tighten up, especially when we add another human to the mix (again: IN THE FUTURE). But isn’t that what makes a house a home?

The front of the house has an interesting walk to the front door. I like how friends and family walk through a gated courtyard before they get to our red doors. I love color, so this was a plus for me when I saw it.

The entryway allows you to go either right toward the family room/office/guest bath or left toward the living room/dining room. I have an entry table that I will decorate seasonally, which is fun!

The family room has some space for Madelyn’s toys and books and a cozy sofa for our TV marathonning. I love that it opens up to the kitchen now and I can see the TV or watch Madelyn playing while I’m cooking. The house came with yellow/sage/sky blue window treatments from Pottery Barn and I liked them so much that I wanted to keep the color scheme alive in the furniture and accent pieces.

We finally have a dream kitchen. It really IS perfect. We knew we’d be able to create it in this house the first time we viewed it. We had to reconfigure the stove and sink which made for a bit of a plumbing nightmare, but it all worked out aesthetically and we are enjoying cooking and eating in the same space that’s modern and spacious. This was what we wanted when we decided to start house hunting because our condo’s kitchen was still small even after we updated the counters and cabinets.

The living room is not very formal because we’re not very formal. We have big dreams to bust out the wall to make it a window and to add a baby grand piano in a corner. This room is our company-is-over-and-we’re-finished-in-the-kitchen room. We love to pop in movies on the TV and let Madelyn dance on all the floor space. And Princeton absolutely loves running around and playing fetch with his toys here. It’s raised and overlooks the dining room which adds a dramatic vibe to the room.

When we go upstairs, we meet a small landing with four doorways. One is a doorway into Madelyn’s bathroom. It’s small, but it works. There are two individual sinks that share space with the toilet and tub. So far we don’t spend too much time in here, but I hope it’s big enough for her and her sibling when they do more “grown up” grooming. But that’s a bridge for a much future crossing.

Madelyn’s playroom is filled with toys and storage along the perimeter with lots of floor space. Her bedroom is almost identical to this one, so it’ll be nice and easy to fill when there’s another little person living in it (again: FUTURE).

Our bedroom is a decent size, but we took a demotion in closet space and bathroom storage. I thought it would be a bigger problem, but we are making do just fine, although I wouldn’t turn away more room from the Closet Fairy. Our furniture worked perfectly and we kept almost all the same decor, including our Phil & Claire Dunphy bedding (shout out to discovering we have a celebrity TV duvet set — ha!)

Madelyn’s room is almost exactly the same as it was in our old place which was definitely on purpose. It wasn’t so much to keep things easy and predictable for her, but to assuage my own sadness to leave her old room behind. We replicated the pink stripes and butter yellow walls, and the furniture seems to flow in a similar way, too. The room is much smaller than her old room, but it’s actually now a normal size bedroom. I really like the space we created in here with the addition of the area rug. I realized I wanted soft floors, but didn’t want to rip out the wood flooring that was already set, so I covered it with a rug and I think it all works fine. I wonder if Madelyn even remembers her old room in the condo!

I managed to finish most of our house decorating, take pictures, and create a blog post just in time for Thanksgiving with the timely declaration to say that I am very thankful that we were able to snag a house in which we’ll continue to make dreams come true and watch our family grow. I am thankful for my husband who works tirelessly for us to be able to have this home and for the vision we share for it. And I’m so thankful that Madelyn and Princeton will also make memories here and we can all remain living in the city in which Bryan and I grew up — the perfect place to raise a family.

You know what doesn’t piss me off? A 2.3 year-old who asks, “Mummy, may I please go to the loo?” Ok, well Madelyn doesn’t speak with a little girl English accent, but how cute would that be? And I also think we need to start saying “loo” much more often in ‘Murica.

Madelyn does, however, tell me: “Sissy! Potty! Mama! Sissy!” It’s more of a demand than a question — she WILL go sissy! Sissy! In the potty! Potty, Mama, NOW.

So who am I to deny my little ready toddler a diaper-free life?

I am a busy mom with a fear of public restrooms. You should see me work a restroom anywhere outside my house: I break out of there without touching a thing with my own bare hands, so you better believe that managing a curious and gropey two-year-old in a bathroom gives me anxiety to the ceiling.

Therefore, I really like diapers. They’re self-containing. I’m in control. And oh, they smell so good (pre-soiled. Duh. I love that fresh-out-of-the-box powdery, sweet, baby smell).

I’ve decided that at the moment, Madelyn is potty training me. She began showing an interest in the potty about four months ago when she began stripping all the time. At first, I thought maybe it was just a slight leaning toward her future career, but then I realized that the clothes and diaper would come off when she was wet or wet+, which made for a really fun clean-up job (think: gorilla. zoo. poop.). It dawned on me that Madelyn did not like being in her own waste, so I bought her a potty chair to try whenever she felt like it.

At first, she sat on it, fully clothed, and just talked away, playing with toys and singing songs. Then she started sitting her baby dolls on the potty and started to narrate what they were doing: “Deedee (baby) sissy on potty!” This told me she was fascinated with the whole potty concept and she’d been paying attention to her family members who allowed her front row seats as a spectator for grown-up potty events.

Hi, Baby! Urine good company!

Then one night before bed, I asked her if she’d like to try to make sissy on the potty. I expected nothing. But sure enough, a few tinkle-tinkles later, and she looked up at me, shocked, and we had a party. A potty party! I praised her like crazy, we did high-fives, I gave her a zillion hugs and kisses, my voice went up 32 octaves, and we danced it out. It was a really fun first experience. And then my instinct was to reinforce it positively with an M&M because, really, if you gave me an M&M anytime I did something you wanted me to do, I would never not do what you want me to do!

I realize how Pavlovian this is and I was one click away from treating her like a dog at obedience school, but the M&M was both celebratory and behavior enforcement. Madelyn learned very quickly that a successful sissy would earn her one M&M in the color of her choice (99% of the time, her pick is “weh-wo”).

These days, Madelyn has been making sissy in the potty about three times a day. She’s still wearing diapers, and we are not close to giving them up entirely, but she’s become extremely comfortable with the whole routine. I usually don’t even ask her if she has to go anymore. She usually just tells me except for this week when I was cleaning my own bathroom, and she saw me attach a new roll of TP. Her eyes got wide, her voice excitedly said, as if she was just reminded, “Oh!” and ran out of my bathroom. I figured she was going to play with one of her baby dolls, but I heard her grunting and talking to herself as she was trying to remove her jeggings and diaper and I walked in on a very satisfied Madelyn who was mid-tinkle on her potty. She’s making connections and it’s really amazing to witness.

I think we’re probably a month or two away from battening down the hatches and doing an intense 3-day potty boot camp. I think that will be the finishing touch to get her out of diapers and I like that she will already be so comfortable with the whole potty exercise. Sometimes I question if I’m doing this right — as if there’s only one way or one correct answer — but I go with my mommy gut and tell myself that this current set-up is teaching Madelyn independence at her own pace and hey, look, no public restroom fiascos to deal with.

I know she’s not going to be walking down the aisle with a diaper underneath her wedding dress, and I know she’s going to be entering preschool with a pretty strong sense of how it all works, so I’m not living in any great fear that I must get on the potty training train OR ELSE, OMG.

We read a cute book called The Potty Book that she requests every night before bed and narrates all the illustrations. She’s super stoked about the idea of undies and has already decided that she wants Diddie Rouse and Ariel on them when it’s her turn to wear them. And don’t get me started on the M&Ms as it’s her new favorite food group.

I think she’ll master making sissy on the potty without the diaper safety net pretty quickly and soon enough, we’ll be tip-toeing through the public restrooms while I have my daughter’s hands restrained in a straitjacket and a hurricane of antibacterial spray surrounding her like the polar opposite of the dude from “Peanuts” with the dirt cloud constantly around him (does anyone ever know what that kid’s name is?)

And then we’ll get to do it all over again with the poops. Shit.

Just after Madelyn turned one, she really chippered up around music. As soon as her body was ready, she started to move, bouncing her legs and flapping her arms. Soon the head bob played a big part in her dancing, and by the time she finished up two gigs as flower girl in two different weddings six months apart, she was essentially a baby version of Beyonce.

I knew I’d sign her up for dance lessons, but the local studios don’t start taking kids until they’re about three. Also, they’re really expensive and I really don’t think her intense ABT training needs to commence at two years old. I did a search in our local parks and rec and found a mommy & me ballet class. The price was right, the commitment was reasonable, and even I’d get to train like a pro make a fool out of myself, too. Plus, how hard could it be?

And come on, have you seen toddler ballet clothes? They are SO cute.

Mommy circa 1987 and Madelyn for-sure 2013 modeling pretty ballet clothes before going to class.

The week before class started, our sweet friend who’s a local dance teacher with the cutest daughters ever gave us several pairs of dance shoes, including ballet shoes in Madelyn’s current size. It was so perfect! I got her a leotard at Target and knew she could wear tights we already had.

I, on the other hand, lost sleep the night before the first class because I don’t have proper ballet shoes except for the old lady, knock-off Isotoner slippers my grandma gave me after she cleaned out her closet (“Here, Ali. For your dancing. These will help you with the steps.” Thanks?…). And I certainly don’t have any official ballet costumes (they didn’t have adult tutus at Target), and would I have to wear my hair in a bun? Because I really don’t look good without my hair down. Of course I wasn’t too afraid of the toddlers giving me the eye. And the teacher, I’m sure, would be very accepting and understanding of a mommy’s busy schedule and her ballet clothing inventory. It was the other moms, of course, that I was dressing for, and I didn’t want to be THAT mom; the one who went all-out with the ballet attire, but also not at all dialed in to the cause.

So I went with my regular mom uniform: black yoga pants, an everyday shirt, and hair half up. I felt it suggested movement and a familiarity with physical fitness without trying too hard. You know, totally a naturale.

I talked up ballet for 48 hours before the class so that by the time we had to be there, Madelyn would be stoked for the new environment.

The first thing I did was breathe a sigh of relief that some moms wore legit ballet shoes and some went barefoot. Most of them also wore my same mom uniform and one or two were in jeans and a top like they’d been out doing other things with, ya know, a life. (Oh you mean this isn’t an all day Broadway chorus workshop? Phew!). I did slip off the faux Isotoners once I saw the bare feet option. Sorry, Grandma.

Madelyn was shy, at first, not willing to do much. She sat on the sidelines and watched, but since it wasn’t Mommy & Me Watching Ballet and we were supposed to actually be doing what the teacher told us, I modeled the behavior I wanted her to have and she just sat back and watched me get my ballet on. So, me, and a bunch of moms and their cooperative daughters and the teacher; it mostly sucked when I had no partner to stretch and sway and do tippy-toe circles with.

Finally, Madelyn warmed up enough to leave her post, but instead of joining the group, she ran around the room like a banshee. She literally galloped across the floor, marking her territory in all four corners of the room with squeals and very loud “singing.” I tried to scoop her up, but she was like a puddle and would not cooperate.

I was really thrilled that I was paying for Madelyn to pretty much do the exact opposite of the class: It was all “mommy,” no “me,” and basically everything but pretty ballet movement. I could see it right then and there: The Toddler Marla Hooch, they’d call her. Ugh.

I’ll tell ya what. I got a sweet workout and my glutes were sore for days.

I spoke to the teacher after class, apologized profusely, and she told me not to worry and it was normal because it’s all completely new to the kids: the space, the structure, the movement. Apparently, a strong enjoyment for dancing to “Blurred Lines,” (or, “Hey Hey Hey” as Madelyn calls it) does not a ballerina make. At least, automatically.

But she told me not to quit, to come back, and eventually she’d get used to the environment.

So we came back.

Madelyn and Lovey perform lifts a la pas de deux. (yes, we speak French now).

Madelyn “chassés” across the floor… with Lovey.

How do you say “monkey in the middle” in French? Because we also play that in ballet in order to coerce the toddlers to stand on tippy toes.

Madelyn improvises eighth position.

And each week, Madelyn improved immensely. Her banshee portrayal only lasted that one class, and each class she participated more and more. The only problem is that halfway through the 50-minute class, she gets tired because it’s her nap time, but she’s been a real trooper and has been able to sleepily carry on, even if a little clumsy. She sometimes gets a little shy about participating, but the teacher said I should do whatever makes her feel comfortable, so Madelyn ends up doing a lot of partner dancing with her pink Lovey. And I feel like it’s the best deal ever at a 3-for-the-price-of-1 bargain.

I continue to wear my Lululemon pants and bare feet, the moms are super nice and their girls are all darling, and Madelyn makes huge steps, or, pas de marché, each week as her moves improve.

We practice at home — tippy toes, butterfly arms, sways, curtsy, chassé, pretty fingers, marching — and she really seems to enjoy it. I’ve also noticed that it’s strengthening her core and leg muscles, which her physical therapist has even noticed!

I hope Madelyn continues to want to dance, and while I won’t push her to do activities she doesn’t really feel, I think dance is a beautiful and important way to build confidence and have fun, two super important focuses I want for my daughter.

Our second session of classes begins next week and I didn’t hesitate to sign up again. These “mommy & me” type classes only last for so long and soon she’ll be going to school, so we have to enjoy them together as long as we can. I love watching her blossom in class and ya know, these old glutes of mine are looking pretty good.

It’s really hard to pick our favorite ballet move.

Now that the dust has settled on the baseball season and I’m [mostly] emotionally recovered from Clayton Kershaw’s spectacular NLCS meltdown and the thrill of seeing the “emotionless” Cardinals lose the World Series Boston Red Sox win their first World Series at Fenway in 95 years, I’ve been able to reflect on what turned out to be a very special season of baseball for me.

It’s true that even before Madelyn was born, I was planning her Dodger fandom, and we started her at a very early age with her first baseball game in seats that will spoil her for the rest of her life. But I think this was the season where we solidified the Dodger Blue blood in Madelyn’s veins — Tommy Lasorda would be proud.

The season started out, though, the same as any other. Like every year before this one (but especially this one with the enormous expectations of the new Dodger ownership), I started the spring with high hopes for season. I signed up for my two fantasy baseball leagues, got excited every night to watch the games on TV, and showed my usual childlike jubilee at the mere sound of Vin Scully’s signature time for Dodger baseball!”

It was less than two weeks after Opening Day that my first lasting memory from the season occurred, and it wasn’t a pretty one. I remember being extremely amped up after Greinke was injured in the brawl with the Padres — I read a ton of articles, got vocal on Facebook, and watched whatever clips of news and opinions about the mound-charging that I could. And while this incident was the not the sole reason for the Dodgers’ historic spring collapse, it seemed to be the catalyst for mine.

By the end of May, I was in full avoidance mode. I don’t think I’ve followed baseball less in my adult life than I did between May and June of 2013. You practically could not pay me to watch a baseball game it seemed. And while the Dodgers’ 23-30 record on June 1st certainly contributed to my lack of interest, it wasn’t the only reason for it. I mean, I’m used to having low expectations so I can deal with regular mediocrity and losing — I’m a lifelong Dodgers fan! This year I think it was just life getting in my way. Between both my job and my daughter requiring more and more attention, I just found myself not able to make the time to watch the game, set my fantasy lineup, or even read the box score the following morning. To top it all off, Alison and I were in the midst of House Watch 2013, dealing with selling our condo, looking for a new place, buying it, moving in, and getting the kitchen remodeled. Not a lot of room for baseball there unfortunately.

Even as the Dodgers surged after the All Star break with the emergence of Yasiel Puig and a string of wins that literally turned around their season, I couldn’t summon my usual level of excitement and interest. It was like “Oh cool, they’re winning now. Isn’t that nice?” Of course, it probably didn’t help that we didn’t get to attend hardly any games during the first half of the season. With everything that was going on, we just couldn’t find the time to make it out to the stadium. Until we finally did.

We were lucky enough to get invited to go to a string of two or three games between August and September, and having just settled into our new house, we finally were really able to make the time — and it was just in time. Of course, we would bring Madelyn along with us, but after our experiences with her last season at the games, I always figured we’d be lucky to make it to the seventh-inning stretch with her. Except things were different this year. She was…really into it. Like, really into it.

Madelyn introduces Lovey to baseball!

She rarely got fussy, and as long as she always had some peanuts or Cracker Jack (or strawberries or raisins or apple sauce or ice cream or…) she stayed engaged in the game. I mean, she actually watched the game and pointed when something interesting went down and looked at me or Poppa as if to say “what just happened?” She’s a baseball fan! It took me right back to my youth when I would ask my dad or my grandpa something so I could learn about the game. Every time M’s face lit up I wanted to explain to her what a balk was, when you might try a hit-and-run, or why they can’t just pitch Kershaw every single day.

Madelyn is thinking, “Come on guys! Enough with the pictures. I’m trying to watch the game!”

We’ve taught her well! This kid knows how to enjoy the ballpark experience.

Poppa explains the intricacies of the game.

But we didn’t even have to physically be at Chavez Ravine for her excitement to kick in. There were some nights when she would sit quietly next to me on the couch, with her head on my lap, and watch three or four innings of the game with me without moving or getting distracted. Anytime a baseball game [of any kind with any team] was on TV at home or in a restaurant, she would eagerly point at the screen and pronounce “Poppa!” as if her beloved Poppa was the starting pitcher that night. (Usually, of course, she learned that he was actually there in his brother’s front row seats and could be seen on TV.)

For dinner she insisted I sit next to her at the table and watch the game, but is there anything better than cuddling on the couch to watch?

There’s Poppa!

And so, I have to thank my daughter for bringing baseball back to me, even though I only lost it for a brief moment in time — she reinvigorated my love for the game. And while the Dodgers winning and making it to the playoffs didn’t hurt this resurgence either, I credit Madelyn’s love for the “Dodders” and her enthusiastic cries of “Go bwew!” for bringing me all the way back. In fact, my interest reached such levels that when we decided that Alison and Madelyn would tag along with me on my business trip to San Francisco, I couldn’t resist getting us tickets to the Giants-Dodgers game and braving AT&T park with my girls. Sure enough, like the true fan that she is, Madelyn made it through all nine innings and then some, as they practically had to kick us out of the place.

Once again Madelyn is trying to watch the action while we are busy trying to capture the moment.

So of course now I can’t wait until next season when she’s a little older and maybe I actually can explain to her the difference between a force out and a tag, or why we shouldn’t/should/shouldn’t bunt in a certain spot, or why you always hustle to first. At the very least, I hope she has the same excitement as I did as a kid when she finds out she gets to go to the game — and maybe I will match her excitement too and make sure not to let it fade ever again. As Madelyn would say, “Go Dodders!”

Two of Madelyn’s favorite things in the whole world put together: “Ditty and Dodders!”