Follow Your Bliss

So Astrid was the honorary bat girl at Fenway Park last Friday. It was Neighborhood Night and the Red Sox were looking for Fenway affiliations to honor in their pre-game ceremony. They asked the Fenway Civic Association for an 8- to 12-year-old girl and Marie—someone we know from the Victory Garden and who’s very active in the community—suggested Astrid. We weren’t given a lot of details, just that she’d be on the field at some point and we’d get free tickets. We had planned to take Astrid to a game this year anyway, since she’s never been to one, and after living in the Fenway her whole life, she should know what all the fuss is about. At first when we told Astrid, she thought she was going to be Batgirl, the comic book superhero; she was a little disappointed when we told her it was about baseball. By the time Friday came, though, she started to get excited about it. We got there and met the bat boy, a 9-year-old named Owen, who was there with a whole entourage of family members, some of whom had their own tickets, but got to tag along with us. A Red Sox ambassador gave us special wristbands and took us all down to the field, where we watched batting practice for awhile. Owen, who had a baseball, was getting autographs from some of the players. Astrid asked one of them for an autograph, too, and when he saw she didn’t have anything to write on, he held up a finger and walked away. Several minutes later, he came back with a baseball for her. I thought that was so nice! I remembered his name, Lavarnway; turns out, he was the catcher. Then after awhile, the ambassador said he was going to take Astrid and Owen to the dugout, where the real bat boy was going to show them the bats or something. They were just sitting there when the players finished their batting practice. Most of them just walked past the kids. Then there was all this commotion and David Ortiz, the only player I recognized, was walking up. People were yelling to him, and Owen’s mom kept calling, “Big Papi, can you sign an autograph for my son!” He turned around and signed Owen’s ball, jersey, and a book that his grandfather had given him, then Astrid’s ball. He stood in front of the kids, talking to a reporter. Astrid was sitting behind him, yawning. I wish I got a picture of that! Then we went on a tour of  the Hall of Fame stuff—vintage jerseys, Babe Ruth and the curse, etc. The ambassador guy paused before the 2004 jersey and asked, “And everyone remembers what happened in 2004, right?” Astrid answered, “I was born!” After the tour, we were taken to the green room to wait until it was time to go onto the field for the ceremony. Astrid and Owen were announced, Wally the Green Monster kissed Astrid’s hand and ruffled Owen’s hair, pictures were snapped and it was over. We went to our seats in the Grandstand and watched the game.  After a couple innings, we were starving and walked around until we found the “Healthy Options” booth, where they had veggie burgers and veggie franks, tucked into a corner. Astrid had been talking pretty much nonstop about getting cotton candy. She wanted blue and we could only find pink, of course, so we walked around some more until we found a booth with the desired color for sale, then made our way back to our seats. She ate a few handfuls, then gave the bag to me, saying, “I don’t like cotton candy. Can I have some popcorn?” We made it until the seventh inning, when we couldn’t handle the freezing “spring” weather anymore and it was way past her bedtime.

The next day we did some errands, one of which was trying to buy handkerchiefs. In an effort to be green and not use Kleenex, we’ve been using handkerchiefs that were Eliot’s dad’s and my dad’s. They were starting to get worn out, but we didn’t know where to find new ones. We tried Marshall’s, thinking they could be in the Men’s Accessories section, which happens to be right across from the Kid’s section. A display of Monster High flip flops caught Astrid’s eye. She tried on a couple pairs, but they didn’t seem to have her size. She was devastated, then we noticed a few errant pairs in the next aisle. In her size! She tried them on, and every fiber of her being lit up. “Mama, can I get them? Will you buy them for me and I’ll pay you back? Oh, please!” I said yes, and she went bananas. “Thank you! You’re the best! I love these!” She carried them to the counter and was so excited that the cashier let her scan the price. She took them home and we cut the tags off. She counted out the money ($7) and thanked me about a hundred times, then put them on and wore them the entire rest of the weekend. We told her she couldn’t wear them to school this morning, but she made Eliot promise he would bring them to after-school so she could wear them home. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy about something. It was so funny. Being on the field at a Red Sox game and getting Big Papi’s autograph—eh, no big deal. But Monster High flip flops—whoo-hoo!