go big blue

When I married my husband, I took a vow. Yes, for better and for worse and all that. The most important vow to my husband though was the one where I give him sixteen days a year. Sixteen days of Giants football.

Now, growing up, my father was a Giants fan. He still is.

My mother is a Giants fan.

My stepfather is a Giants fan.

My siblings are Giants fans.

My best friend is a Giants fan.

My best friend's entire family are Giants fans. (okay, we give exception to her loving husband, but only because he permits Samme to be a Giants fan)

Even my sixth grade teacher was a die hard Giants fan.

It only made sense that I married one.

Now that we have children, our children are Giants fans. My husband will tell anyone who asks, our family's blood runs blue. You have to understand however, that we are only Giants fans. We do not observe any other sport. We only watch the Giants. It is akin to religion in our house. It is also akin to blasphemy if you praise any other team in my husband's presence.

This is the second week of my Husband's allotted eighteen. We awoke this morning to chanting in the house of "Goooooo Giants!!" Of course, place that in the mouths of babes and it sounds more like Gooooo Shiansh, but it still is impossibly cute.

We all adorn our Giants gear. The troubling thing about the first weeks of the season is that our girls are so young that nothing from last year fits. Of course, between work, school, extracurricular activities and LIFE, I have forgotten to get Iz her new jersey this year. Oh, what an {absolutely awful} mommy I felt like this morning as I had my jersey on, Abby put her jersey on and Daddy got his jersey on. Then the crestfallen, heartbroken little face of our home's biggest Giants fan. Iz was crushed.....no Giants jersey that fits!

Daddy attempted distraction by a trip to the kids gym, while I ran to the grocery store. In my journey, I quickly ran over to the sports store. I searched and searched - lo and behold, tucked behind many racks were a few remaining jerseys. Of course, the shirts are ten sizes too big, even in a child's small. But for our Iz, that is of no consequence, it merely makes it a dress! Iz could not contain her excitement when I brought the token home. There was much hopping up and down, shrieking, and general mayhem....over a Giants jersey. You should have seen the beaming coming from Daddy's face.

Now our children, ages 3 and 4, are not such devout fans that they are actually able to sit and watch the Giants game, but it is spirit that counts. It is probably for the best anyway, given that my normally even-headed husband is prone to swearing on par with a sailor during game time. The girls run off...playing with their babies, playing house, playing princess {while wearing their jerseys of course} intermittantly shouting "Go Giants!" when the spirit overcomes them.

Thank heavens they won, my life will remain sane for the next week. Only fourteen more weeks to go. If I am incredibly lucky, we will get eighteen more weeks - although the extra four are fraught with more tension than the preceding sixteen!!!

Go Giants!!