Heart warming article

Rich has been watching the WBC religiously - and although I tune in when I can, I've been a little too busy to catch some of the good stories. He sent this to me today, and I thought it was a story worth sharing.

Red, white and blue, through and through
By Jeff Passan, Yahoo! Sports

MIAMI GARDENS, Fla. – The flag traveled around the world and through the deserts of Afghanistan and Iraq. Sgt. Felix Perez brought it from home as a reminder and an amulet. The flag never left his Army backpack.
It accompanied Perez to Dolphin Stadium on Tuesday night. He needed some luck for his team, the United States, in its must-win World Baseball Classic game against Puerto Rico. Perez wore a Team USA hat and a Team USA hoodie, and his little sister, Jessica, draped his flag across her shoulders. The United States’ 6-5 come-from-behind victory in the ninth inning sent them into a frenzy. She danced around. He sat in his motorized wheelchair and roared.
On the way out, the 27-year-old Perez placed the flag in his lap and leaned over to a security guard manning Gate G. He was hoping some players from Team USA might sign it. The security guard led Perez and his sister to the U.S. clubhouse, and the flag went inside.
“The next thing I know,” Perez said, “I’m getting called to come back in there.”
And so began the coolest 30 minutes of Felix Perez’s life. On an evening when he felt especially proud to be an American – when a group of his sporting heroes wearing his country’s name across their chests banded together to win a game they had no business winning – Perez found himself surrounded by them, doused with celebratory Miller Lites, with the American flag that was with him during the worst moment of his life passed around the room and signed by every player on the team.
“Everybody,” Perez said.
Then they handed him a ball filled with signatures.
“Everybody,” Perez said.
The half-hour went too fast. Jimmy Rollins, who scored the winning run, wanted to chat more. David Wright, who drove it in, couldn’t hear enough about how the New York Mets are Perez’s favorite team. Almost half the team surrounded Perez for a photograph, the flag draped around his torso, a smile on every face, and none brighter than his.
“I’m just happy to see him happy,” Jessica said.
It’s been four years since Perez returned from the Middle East, where he spent four years. He enlisted after his 17th birthday and was in Afghanistan by the time he turned 20. He doesn’t like to talk about his injury. Some wounds don’t heal.
Perez played ball growing up in North Bergen, N.J., and still loves watching the sport. He attended Team USA’s first WBC game here, an 11-1 mercy-rule loss to Puerto Rico. When the Americans beat the Netherlands to stay alive, Perez woke up at 9 the next morning, called the box office and bought three tickets.
The stadium, practically empty at first pitch, filled to 13,224 by game’s end. It deserved more eyes. Puerto Rico scored in the sixth inning to break a 3-3 tie and tacked on an insurance run in the ninth for a two-run lead. The Americans, about to get bumped from the second straight WBC before the semifinals, needed something divine. Shane Victorino singled to right field. Brian Roberts singled to center. And then Roberts, who had joined Team USA just two days earlier to replace the injured Dustin Pedroia, stole second base – even though coaches laid down the hold sign. Roberts hadn’t quite learned the signs yet.
A walk to Rollins, and another to Kevin Youkilis, and the U.S. had cut the deficit to one run. Wright laced a 2-1 pitch from Fernando Cabrera down the right-field line, and out charged all of Team USA, from the bench and the bullpen, in a bull rush to home plate, then to greet Wright. His teammates kept pushing Wright, joyous and unbridled shoves, until he fell down and they buried his face in the dirt.
“I never thought that we’d be dog piling in March,” Wright said.
No one did. The malaise that clouded the previous games involving Team USA seemed infectious. For every Felix Perez, there were dozens, sometimes hundreds, of fans rooting for the opposing team. Every WBC game thus far, even the ones in Florida, felt like it was on the road.
Not even that dampened the Americans’ enthusiasm. They play Venezuela on Wednesday to determine seeding in Los Angeles, where they’ll face either Korea or the winner of Wednesday’s Japan-Cuba knockout game – and perhaps with a few more supporters who can appreciate what Team USA accomplished Tuesday.
“That was the greatest game I’ve ever been a part of,” catcher Brian McCann said. “Ever.”
Same went for Perez. He said he would rather Team USA win the WBC than the Mets win a World Series.
“We’re the U.S.,” Perez said. “This is our game. … This is the world. You’re representing your country. What is more honorable than representing your country?”
Team USA’s manager, Davey Johnson, grew up an Army brat, his father a prisoner-of-war in World War II.
“There is nothing more honorable,” he said.
Wright was raised near Naval Station Norfolk, one of the largest military bases in the country.
“When you see those guys and get a chance to see how much it means to them, that makes it extra special,” he said. “They take a lot of pride in that red, white and blue, and to have USA across your chest and have supporters like that – that’s what this tournament means.”
Outside the clubhouse, Perez started moving toward the stadium exit. His dad, Felix, had called. He was wondering where Perez and Jessica had gone. They were headed back to the car, Jessica said. They had a pretty amazing souvenir.
A minute later, Rollins walked by and spotted Perez.
“All right, baby,” he said. “Keep a smile on your face.”
“Hey,” Perez said, “as long as you keep swinging the bat, I’ll be happy.”
Perez lifted his right arm as high as he could to wave goodbye. He wasn’t sure he’d see these guys again. He said he might fly to Los Angeles for the finals. He doesn’t know.
Perez moved his hands onto the flag. It’s a struggle, but he wanted to touch his prize. He plans on hanging it next to his other American flag, the one his friends in the 82nd Airborne sent to him when he was injured.
The old flag’s traveling days are over. Sgt. Felix Perez brought it to his home Tuesday night as a reminder and an amulet. The flag never will leave his heart.

Doors, Part II

After my 5th sleepless night in a row, I was trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep while both kids were still down. Rich had gone downstairs, RJ was in my bed and Rosie was sound asleep in her room – or so I thought. I shut my eyes “just for a minute” and was awakened 25 minutes later by Rich, with Rosie in his arms.

Rosie woke up, didn’t say a word – but just opened her door and started to walk down the steps. Rich heard her calling for Mommy and met her when she was almost all the way down the staircase.

I guess it is time to baby gate her into her room!!

Doors Won't Stop Her Now!

I’ve been dreading this day for a long time – Rosie has mastered our door knobs. According to Carrie, our nanny, we have difficult doorknobs for toddlers. Her daughter, Zallie, has had doorknobs mastered for quite some time but struggles at our house. Maybe it is because we have a lot of open space…maybe it is because I keep the doors open…maybe it is because we keep all of her toys in one space where she can easily get them…regardless of the reason, up until now, Rosie has not really tried to open the doors in our house at all. That all changed last week.

I was feeding RJ on my bed and had accidentally locked Messier in my bathroom. She was crying to get out and Rosie was banging on the door to get in. Messier must have sounded desperate to Rosie because she was determined to open the door and let her out. After a minute of fumbling, the door popped open and a very happy Rosie looked at me and said “I did it!” You sure did, kiddo.

At around 2am, I was putting RJ back to bed after a feeding when I heard a noise on the monitor. Rosie was awake and climbing out of her bed. Usually she hollers for us until we get her. But the typical chorus of “I need Mommy. I need Daddy,” never came. Instead, I heard a click. As I turned to walk RJ to his room, Rosie appeared in the doorway. She looked at me, Binkie in hand, and said “I want to cuddle wish you, Mommy.” I guess the cuddle was worth the walk!

Rosie Goes Bilingual

Rosie has a new obsession lately. Actually – she has two new obsessions that she picked up from the other kids at Little Bricks. She is completely enamored with Dora the Explorer and Go, Diego, GO! I never deliberately introduced her to these programs, but they are on when we are at the gym. Up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know that she even watched the programs.

My first tip-off that we had new favorites occurred in the Hallmark store on the Avenue. We were there in early February picking up all of our February birthday cards and we passed by the large collection of TY beanie babies and assorted stuffed animals. Rosie, who had not been feeling well that week, suddenly starts yelling “Mommy – a baby Jaguara! A baby Jaguara!” A What? Jaguara? What could she possibly mean?

It never occurred to me that she would be saying “Jaguar” or that she would know the difference between a jaguar stuffed animal and a tiger stuffed animal. But she did – she knew that little stuffed cat was a baby jaguar and she needed to have it. I was relatively impressed that she knew it was a jaguar, so I bought it for her.

Fast forward a few weeks – we are on the couch and she is asking for “egg-o.” What is “egg-o?” Rosie is pretty good at making herself understood, so when I didn’t understand “egg-o,” she tried something else: “Dora the ‘Splora.” That one, I understood. It just so happened that Dora was on Nickelodeon. And Diego just happened to follow it. As soon as Diego’s theme song started to play, Rosie started to jump up and down and scream “EGG-O!!! Da EGG-O!” Ah…now I get it. So, for the first time, I watch Diego. Guess what – Diego hangs out with a baby jaguar that is picture and named in the opening theme. Rosie learned about the jaguar from Diego’s theme song. He has a “baby jaguar by his side.”

Now, Rosie likes to watch multiple Dora and Diego episodes every day. They are cousins, you know. Rosie told me – but I watched the show to confirm. She has learned about many different animals (like Iggy the Iguana…she now wants an iguana). She has started to answer Dora and Diego when they ask questions of their audience – and at the end of the episode, she can tell you all about it. But all of this pales in comparison to what happened this morning.

We were watching Dora in my bed and Rosie wanted chocolate milk. I told her that we would need to go downstairs – and she looked at me and said “Let’s go, amigo. Vamanos!” I looked at her and thought, did that really just happen? So I asked her to repeat it – and she did. Thank you, Dora and Diego!

Hello, Poison Control

I had a pretty good streak going. I managed to make it through 821 days without a single call to Poison control. 2 years and 3 months of parenting without a kid-related call to 911. Day 822 broke my streak – and it was completely my fault.

RJ was fussing up a storm and just crying. We tried feeding him, rocking him, bouncing him, putting him down, pick him up…just about everything. We decided that the poor little guy had some nasty gas bubbles and we needed to help him out. So – I broke out the infant Mylicon. Without even thinking, I filled up the dropper and gave RJ the medicine. As soon as he has swallowed the dose, something didn’t feel right to me. Half thinking that the stuff was past its expiration, I started reading the bottle. To my horror, I realized that I had given him a double dose.

I controlled my panic in front of Rich, but took RJ upstairs and after about a minute decided to follow the advice on the bottle and call Poison Control for advice as to how to deal with this accidental overdose. Doing my best to control my tears, I dialed 911. I told the operator that I needed Poison control and she calmly offered to connect me right away. I’m glad she was calm – I was not.

Within 3 minutes, the whole ordeal was over and the nice gentleman at Poison Control assured me that Mylicon is not a toxic substance and a double dose would not harm RJ in any way. I went downstairs, tail between my legs, to tell Rich that I had called. His response? “I knew you were going to call.” At least our first call to Poison Control (and I’m sure not our last) was a minor one!