Oh those Hoosiers

Ashley and I were among the 17,000+ who were lucky enough to attend Hoosier Hysteria in Bloomington Saturday night. I say "lucky enough" because apparently there were about another few thousand who were turned away once Assembly Hall reached full capacity. But while we were there, something caught my eye and turned my mind toward our future child. Little, tiny, IU jerseys. They were everywhere! Little kids decked out in their jerseys with their favorite player's number and red & white striped pants were all over the place. And since we had to wait 3 hours outside in a line, we got to see all of them. There were some running around with basketballs. There were a few in the grass throwing footballs and frisbees. Some just sat in line with their parents and occaisionally whined about being bored or how cold they were. One group of kids caught my attention though. They were running up and down a small hill in front of Assembly Hall, which seemed normal enough, but when I looked over there again I saw one in a white IU jersey, with his red and white striped pants....sliding down the hill. My first thought was, "Grass stain! Mud! That's a white Cody Zeller jersey! Those pants will never come clean!" I realized that I've crossed a line. I've become one of the old people.

It doesn't seem like all that long ago that I would have noticed kids sliding down a hill and thought, "That looks like fun." But there has been a fundamental shift somewhere in my brain that makes me immediately think about how that jersey will never look white again, or how much those candy-striped pants cost their parents. As troubling as the fundamental shifting of my mind might be, I think it's a good thing. I look forward to being frustrated with my child for doing the ridiculous things like that that I'm sure he'll do. (by the way, using "he" because it's easier, "she" would be fine too.) I look forward to being frustrated with him because I look forward to having him around. As we get deeper into this process, even in the researching phase, we become more aware at just how difficult this process is going to be. But the more I see kids the way we did Saturday, outside having fun, spending time with their parents, the more I am convinced that what we are doing is the right thing. Yes, we will have to fight through all of the hurdles that come our way through this process, but we know that when we get our child home, it will be worth every minute of the struggle.

I can't wait to take our child out to things like what we went to Saturday. To take him to IU basketball games and teach him to count by 2's and 3's when players make a shot. To see him light up when he gets to see his favorite players in person for the first time. And to explain why we cheer everytime they show a picture on the screen of that guy with the red sweater and white hair (and clarify that it's not an angry Santa Claus).

So if any of you happen to be at an IU basketball game a few years from now and see a guy and little boy wearing matching candy-striped pants who stand everytime they play the fight song or the William Tell Overture and cheer loudest when Calbert Cheaney takes his seat on the bench, feel free to come say hi. Just ignore our grass-stained pants, because I'm a big softy and if he asks to roll down the hill a few times before the game....I might have to join him.