Steelers Training Camp Pictures

Taken Monday August 12, 2013

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Troy Polamalu

Ben Roethlisberger

Brett Keisel

Isaac Redman

Coach Tomlin

One Play

Random Practice Shots

The memoirs of my day vacation: The Shenanigans

We awoke from the chaos into the world where instead of life trolling us, we trolled life. At the end of this day, I made my nephew play Ice Cube Today Was a Good day on his iPhone. You should probably listen to it while you read this post.

I actually woke up at 8AM. Maybe earlier. This is important because had I slept in to 10, the whole day would have been fucked. Sometimes it really pays to get up before you want to and be the responsible adult you couldn't wait to be growing up. You don't have to do that every day. Just important ones.

READ PART I of this series here, The Chaos
READ PART II of this series here, The Mayhem
(this is part III, the final part, except for extra photos coming soon)

After the continental breakfast deal, I packed everyone up and left. But before I left, since I just did recently blog about tipping, this is how I tipped housekeeping.

I don't usually tip them this much. It's just that it was a huge suite, and we did use the sofa bed. Had one of the kids peed the bed, it would have been much larger. I also wrote the note in English and Spanish because when I met some of the housekeeping staff in the elevator and started chit chatting with them, they understood less English than my brother-in-law who doesn't speak English. They might of been speaking Chinese for all I knew, but Spanish is the second language someone around me speaks fluently enough to translate. Had I gone French, it would have pretty much said, "Bonjour. Ca va? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir? Baisez vous." That pretty much translates to, "Hello, how are you? Would you like to go to bed with me tonight? Fuck you." Yep that's about all I can say anymore beyond the Pledge of Allegiance to the American Flag (took it in high school if that wasn't already obvious).

You might be a redneck if you add this to it... (read it in your Larry the Cable guy voice)

So then we took off to the zoo. I drove. (Duh. Did you read the last post?)

I look much better today don't I?
Hair is pulled back for proper momming functions.

For those thinking of ever going to the zoo, it looks farther from downtown on the map than it really is. I would say we got there in 20 minutes. That might be because I CAN drive like I'm from Boston (pronounced Bah Stin, like a sheep Bah Bah Bahstin). I was fortunate because I rented a car, which meant it had a different license plate than my state (good ole West By God Virginia), so every time I cut someone off or was a total asshole on the road due to the fact that my husband was The Navigator, people were going, "Damn Mississippi drivers." Sorry Mississippi.

By the way, I do think I was wearing an ugly shirt.

My kids walking to the zoo, all cute like.

Getting into the zoo was awesome, and I'll tell you why. My husband and I got in free, so we only paid 50 bucks for the kids to get in. How did we get in free? Well I did have a coupon for $2 off that I decided not to use because apparently, military gets in free, and this includes veterans. All you need is your DD-214 (or active ID).

I was worried that my nephew might hate the zoo and get bored, but he didn't. I guess you are never too old to go to the zoo. I had fun too. I couldn't go anywhere without making some stupid, silly, funny comment that made everyone around me giggle or stare at me like I'm again, a crackhead.

But you know what? You are just not better than me if you can't figure out what the animal is enough to associate it to some cartoon character to help the kids make the connection. I don't care if people thought I was on crack when I walked up to the Lemur and broke out into, "I like to move it move it..." Or when I went to the leopard and explained to the kids that it sang a song with Bruce Willis on the Wild Thornberry's Rugrats movie, even if it wasn't the same leopard. Or when I said the tigers were "Grrrrrrrrreat" all Tony the Tigerish. Or that I kept referring to whatever fish it is as the Dory Fish. And I might of broke out into "In the Jungle the mighty jungle the lion sleeps tonight," at the lions. I also explained to my girls that the lioness does all the work while the lion is a lazy man.

And you can't tell me I'm the only mom to break out into the map song every time we grabbed the map. If there's a place you got to get, I can get you there I bet, what's my name? The map. Say it again. The map.

Me and my girls.

My mom instincts were with it. I was like a savage, instinctive animal who looked into the animal areas and could spot out every lost sippy cup, bottle, and bink. 

Future mug shot faces, or duck lips gone wild?

My oldest daughter had the iTouch with her, using it to take pictures. At one point, I told the kids to pose for a picture, and she wanted to sit that one out to play a game on the iTouch. What? Child we are at the zoo. That thing is for pictures only. So here's that picture. The other 2 were mocking her. She was in a better mood 3 minutes later, about the same time some other family decided to hog the growth chart for pictures.

I think the fact that I never really did a growth chart at home might have caused some Freudian complex because my girls ran up to each one of those things and measured their height.

Giraffe does not approve of your parenting.

Now of all the animals, my favorite was the giraffe, and only for reasons of this story I'm about to tell. Like me, she had her mother instincts in super hyper drive. It was the funniest shit I've ever seen, and I'm the only one who noticed. The only people in this area at this point were me and a family of 5 people who weren't even looking at the giraffe. They were doing something where they were turned away from it huddled together looking down, talking to each other, looking for something. Maybe the map. One of the kids, about 10 years of age, climbed the binoculars thing standing one leg on it and the other leg on top of the bars we weren't supposed to cross while looking down. The giraffe instantly looked over, stared for a minute, turned her head and eyeballed the kid, then walked up to the front, closer to us, as far as she could go, never taking her eyes off the kid. The kid got down and the family walked away never glancing at the giraffe, even though I was pointing and laughing screaming to the husband what just happened and to hurry come get a picture of this. The look she gave them was priceless. The husband got this shot in, right at the end of the look. It was better seconds before this picture. It was definitely the ghetto, "Mmm hmm, control your kids bitch." Then she turned around and walked back up to where she was. No wonder Toys R Us uses a Giraffe to brand their image. Mind you, she, the giraffe, might be a he.

Note: I'm posting more picture of the animals in a different post. The Giraffe is in it.

After telling all 3 kids to get off the branch, I stood with
the 3 year old who stayed behind to argue with me about it.

Usually the thing I don't like about zoos are the monkeys, because of the smell. Fortunately and unfortunately, this zoo keeps the monkeys behind glass. Shitty pictures. No smell. My kids loved the monkeys though, and they were ooh ooh aah aah ing all the way through it, which I think added to the atmosphere. Others walking near us might disagree. I don't know why they would.

The monkeys were also strategically located in the middle of the walk giving the children that energy burst they needed because something about being inspired to climb shit is like liquid crack to my kids.

I like to move it move it. 

Just had to. The Lemurs were in there too. Pictures of all the zoo animals are going to be placed in another post. I'll link at the bottom once it's up.

So then we hit the worst part of the zoo ever. The Aquarium. 

My little Annie amazed at the Penguins.
See how dark that area is?

I started off looking forward to that part thinking it was going to be air conditioned (it was, but you couldn't tell). I love the whole aquarium feel. The fish. The water. It's relaxing. Not at the zoo. Not with the kids. In reality, it's a dark place with windows of fish, on both your left and your right, full of other people and their children in the clusterfuck of ooooh, look at this's. If you have more than one kid with you, even crazier because one kid is staring at the blue fish, one at the red fish, and the other ran off to the one fish while the husband is at the two fish and your life all the sudden makes as much sense as a Dr. Seuss book.

Five times, I had a heart attack because I lost a kid. Not the, "Shit, where is? Oh there she is." No. It was the, "Where's Solma? Have you seen Solma? Solma? SOLMA! SOLMA!" running around for 5 minutes before I find her staring at the jellyfish telling everyone around her about Spongebob. Did that once for each kid, including the 13 year old, except twice for Solma, and the kids on the autism spectrum, yeah scary. I can't go a day without reading about a missing child with autism. The water? That's worse. Water is the pied piper beacon for autistic children who always seem to forget they can't breathe water when mesmerized by its liquid, wet texture. (Note: not all autistic children are obsessed with water, but it's more common than trains).

Not to mention, the space was small for the amount of people there. If you have claustrophobia like I do, plus some social anxiety issues like I do, it's not a fun place by yourself.

The bottom level of the aquarium wasn't so bad. It was well lit with a lot of space. There was a place to pet the StingRay. I did. Why? Because the kids wouldn't until I did. Reminds me of the time back in the day when I was jailbait when I got my bellybutton pierced at some random street corner at Myrtle Beach because everyone else wanted one but was too scared to get it. It was a church function.

They also had crawl space for the kids to crawl under the Sting Ray. I only lost one kid, Annie, once with that, for a whole whopping 15 seconds. That's when I discovered the crawl space area went through to the other side. I should have low crawled it first, but I'd have to have a responsible adult present for that, and I only had my husband. He was so NOT helpful keeping track of the children in the dark fish cave like I was going to trust him with that for a minute.

We skipped the kid's ride area because it's more money and we were on a schedule. It was time to go to mommy and daddy's favorite thing. But before we left, we hit the store to get all the kids something.

Gabby grabbed a stuffed fox because it was soft. We didn't see a fox at the zoo.

Solma grabbed a pink purse with a pink penguin on it.

Annie wanted whatever Solma got.

My nephew chose the 10 dollar pixie stick.

Children probably should never be given that amount of sugar at once, ever. I'm just happy I didn't get any for my kids. My nephew didn't just get a sugar high. He was sugar drunk, for the rest of the entire day, up to like 1 AM.

In the car ride home, at about 10 PM, he called his mother randomly and said at 125 words per second, "I totally left my meds at Aunt Michelle's house and haven't taken my pills in 2 days, so I decided to fill myself with lots of caffeine and sugar instead." My sister has to think I suck. My husband thought it was hilarious. I was not amused.

My nephew (13) also seemed to prefer classic rock over top 40 when sugar drunk. It was worth it for that alone. I may pump that child full of sugar again just to get a break from Radioactive and Take me to the other side, and that one Justin Timberlake does that quotes Kung Fu Panda... all songs the radio stations play once every 4 songs. Though Alice Cooper's song about stealing cars might not be an improvement on influence. Musical quality yes. Stage make-up definitely.

My favorite part of the day... Brace yourself. Too much awesome. 

Now might be a good time to play this song...

After the zoo, we went to watch the Steelers practice next to a cornfield. Right as I sat my butt down to watch them practice, the oldest had to pee. Of course. I tried to make her wait, but she was relentless. So we go to the bathroom, which ended up being a perfect time. The janitor was talking to some other woman about where to stand for autographs. Apparently, the place they tell you to stand isn't the place to stand. So I jumped into the conversation and got some insider information on where Ben Roethlisberger has been signing stuff. Then when we were standing above the bleachers later, the same janitor stood next to me to point exactly where we want to be standing. She did it all top secret, like the mafia talking in front of the Feds. That made me feel like Christopher Walken.

So after practice, we made sure we were standing there with footballs and a pen. Ben starts to walk over, stops and starts talking to some people in the middle of the field. Keisel joined the conversation at some point. Everyone is screaming for Ben to come over. The guy next to me explained that the last time they practiced, Ben didn't stop to sign anything. I panicked. So I took off my outer shirt and showed some Glory.

Taken from the suite earlier that day. 

Can you find Jesus?

Hey, don't knock it. These puppies have gotten me free food, free drinks... They got me into the club at 16 years of age. They got me jobs. I'm very used to my milkies getting me my way. And this was not only important, not only a desperate time requiring desperate measures, but it was also for a good cause. To my left was a kid with Down Syndrome wanting Ben's autograph. To my right was a kid who didn't think Ben cared about his fans anymore. My boobs helped save Ben's career.

So according to the jealous husband, Ben noticed. Multiple times. From the field right before saying, "Are they saying my name over there?" While signing the kid to my left's stuff. While signing my stuff. While signing the kid to my right's stuff. And what better timing Ben because I was really starting to feel old, fat and frumpy. I thought maybe it was time for the milk jugs to retire. To hang up their nipples until the next life. 

Despite all that being true and fact and a little fiction, Ben didn't want to sign my cleavage. I DID ask him if he wanted to. He just giggled and was like, "That's okay." I'm just going to believe that it's because my husband and a bunch of children were standing right next to us. It's not because I'm an old fat frumpy mom. Nope, not at all. 

BTW, I think my boobs made him blush. That's why his face is a little red in the picture. Has absolutely nothing to do with a 5 hour practice in the hot sun.

Then as we were driving home, we ran across this sign (the traffic light is the only reason why we have a picture of it). I think it rather sums up my trip perfectly.

You're Welcome McMichael for the free advertising.

In case you hated Black and Yellow (because it should be Black and Gold as there's no other reason not to like that song), there's always this

The memoirs of my day vacation: The Mayhem

So after the chaos came the mayhem. This is the time where the chaos morphs into shenanigans.

Did you miss Part 1 of this post? Check it out here.

We get on the road for our little day vacation. Wait. My nephew has no clothes to change into. My middle kid has no CLEAN bathing suit (as if we are going to have time for swimming now). I need a new camera because these iProducts suck at picture taking concerning lighting, pixels, and speed. The Canon Rebel we own is having battery issues ever since the children gooed it with schmooze (isn't that what attacked the My Little Ponies? I need flutterponies in my house stat). Plus the Canon has a lighting issue I can't troubleshoot. Then the thing I bought since then sucks ass, like I paid 50 dollars for something that works like those old school key chain cameras you could by for 5 dollars (or a Go Diego digital camera). Diet Coke. I need Diet Coke for the hotel room because how much you want to bet they decided to sleep with Pepsi like every hotel out there?

I go to Walmart. I make the husband drive the kids through BK for their dinner while I run in and grab shit. I grabbed boxers, shorts, t-shirt, and socks for the nephew. Bathing suit for the middle kid. Camera of awesome for my husband and I. Diet Coke for me. Shit now I'm hungry and I told the hubs not to get me anything, so I grab a sub and cheesesticks and wedges (waiting 20 minutes for 5 people to do closing duties first telling me they'll be with me in a minute because that's Walmart Customer Service at its finest). I go to pay, and I see my nephew. He walked all over the store looking for me, now he has to find the husband and kids who came in the store. After verbally assaulting my husband's common sense in front of Aisles 1 through 6 with a colorful vocabulary, and then sitting at a bench for 20 minutes, I see my nephew return. They went back to the car.

Husband was an ass and got me eating and driving.
Notice my safe procedure of driving with my knee?
10 and 2. Hands should be on the 10 and 2.

We finally leave. Finally. I'm driving because you'll see why in a minute.

I get an hour east before I get pulled over by Carl Winslow. He asked me if I knew how fast I was going. Of course, I had no flippin clue. I told him that I was listening to my kid talk and Michael Jackson's Billie Jean was playing and I was getting jiggy with it at the same time. I even turned up the volume of the CD player to prove it. Billie Jean. That explains everything. He asked me 5 more times if I knew how fast I was going. No. I don't know. According to him, I was ONLY going 81 in a 55. And I quote him, thrice, "You. SMOKED. Me.!"

I thought this was Derpy enough to post.
I'm too sexy for my Carolina Whopper my husband ended
up getting me.

You smoked me. YOU SMO-OH-KED ME!

You. Smoked. Me.

That would explain why I was driving listening to Billie Jean shaking my ass trying to figure out what my 6 year old was saying and then I looked in my rear view mirror and could barely see a car with flashing lights on it, like I had to squint my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing the reflection of someone's LED headlights invented in hell hitting someone's brake lights a certain way with the atmosphere spreading it out and bouncing it off a tree. No, it was an actual police car. I'm so observant to notice him before he got here. If more people would pay this much attention on the road and pull over for emergency vehicles like this... And I even thought to myself, "Oooh, someone must be in trouble, or they are going to be in trouble." So I pull over to let him through. No. He was trying to catch up to me. I was probably fleeing from the police for a couple miles.

Well. This isn't good is it? And I haven't had a ticket in like 6 years. 81 in a 55, now that can't be cheap. Shit. This is gonna suck, but I'll take it like a man, no, I'll take it like a whore.

Then he asked, "Where are you heading?"

Well shit.

Mind you, Saturday, the day before, when I was taking food to my mom, I was driving behind some guy on this road going about 3 miles over the limit and a state cop was coming toward us, does a u-turn and flashes his lights, so I thought I was getting pulled over. I start to pull over thinking he's not going to believe that I'm taking food to my sick mom, watch. Then he went around me and pulled over the guy in front of me. I wasn't about to pull over make sure I wasn't part of the deal. Nope. I kept going. Just like Dory says, "Just keep swimming."

So this time, I don't have such a good story. Nope. No sick mom. No dying grandma (like that one ticket I got in Ohio in 1998), no uncle's funeral (the one I got in Ohio in 1999, they really don't give a shit in Ohio).

Figured I'm best off to go with the truth. The first time the kids caught wind of where we were going.

"We're heading to Pittsburgh. Planning to hit the zoo tomorrow and then watch the Steelers practice."

The cop, Carl Winslow (without the mustache), was like, "Oh really. Well then, I guess I won't give you a ticket after all since you are a Steeler's fan. Give me a minute."

He came back with a warning telling me how much it's worth. I'm here to tell you. Fuck Geico. Switching to the Steelers can save you 300 dollars or more on a speeding ticket.

As the cop walks away, my nephew says, "You should let your husband drive now." My 6 year old agreed, "Yeah, let daddy drive." Then the other 2 chimed in, "Mommy move over. Let daddy drive." My nephew comes back with, "yeah, you just lost your driving privileges with that." So I let the husband drive.

Here's the issue. Here's the reason why I drive everywhere. Here's the reason why my husband sits in the passenger seat all the time. I'm a control freak. I can't stand it when someone else drives. I have to drive. I get anxiety and panic attacks. I think we are going to die. He is swerving too far to the right. He gets up on people's asses before braking or switching lanes. He didn't really look in the left lane good enough before switching. Quit riding that guy's ass, he keeps stomping on his brakes. We're going to die. We're going to die. I told you people I'm catwoman. Does that not sound like a cat in a car?

My husband at the infamous gas station that I did totally
confuse for a bar because after I had my wine, they played
our song and we danced to it. Right where he's standing here.

So we stopped for gas. College town infamous for block parties, belligerent football fanatics, and partying in general. It's a sin to go there according to some guy from my old church that's a reason I don't go to church anymore. I figured I'd go in and look for some anti-anxiety meds. My options were Benadryl or a sippy cup of Cabernet. So basically, I stopped at a gas station for a cocktail. I stood outside the gas station by the door drinking my wine smoking a cigarette with the fam in the car (avoiding possession of an open container), and yes I made them wait (5 whole minutes). People were walking in and out, college students, party animals right?

Instead of being all "woohoo let's drink" about it, they looked at me like I was a crackhead. The ghetto looking guy wouldn't even make eye contact. So I tried to be funny. These 2 girls walk out with a guy lagging behind and I'm like, "Yeah, the husband is driving. I can't ride with his driving sober." Apparently, I'm not funny. They just looked at each other and walked away really fast. FUCK YOU college students being all serious and maturity snooty. You'll crack. When you graduate, you'll be doing 3-somes with random married couples experimenting with drugs because you're too motherfucking uptight for 21. I've seen it happen to a lot of people. It's not like they were enrolled into Harvard or anything. They should leave and go to Harvard or something because they are making that town look bad. They are killing the reputation alumni for years worked so hard to achieve.

So we leave there. The wine was exactly what I needed. I was relaxed and happy for a good 20 minutes, and then I clonked out. This is why I don't usually drink wine for fun because it always wears off too fast. So then I woke up 20 minutes out of Pittsburgh. I woke up the kids so they could see it.

It's really neat how it happens. You are driving down the road, and you see stuff that looks like suburbia and businesses like the Sprint store, a billboard... then country for a second and then another exit of some lights here and there. You go in this tunnel and as soon as you exit the tunnel, the world lights up like fireworks, downtown Pittsburgh. Bridges, tall buildings, all lit up beautiful.

So basically, you are driving. Darkness. Boring stuff. Darkness. Boring stuff. Tunnel. Hold your breath. Make a wish. and

We did not take this fabulous picture obviously.

It's a magical I couldn't refuse my children.

We got a little lost finding the hotel. Humans amaze me with the whole invention of GPS and stuff, but we are still pretty fucking stupid and useless when it comes to cataloging information. The map came from some place showing the location of the hotels. I can't remember if I ganked it from Google Search or from hotels.com, but it was off by a block and wrong street name and what not. Whatever. We found it. Eventually. It was a fun drive otherwise. It was just late.

We get in the hotel, and the suite was sweet. The kids went to bed and right back to sleep. The guy working there probably thought I smoked crack too. That's okay. He didn't judge me for it.

My girls in their bed

My nephew in the sofa bed.

My husband drinking beer in the kitchen. 

Wasn't this a fabulous idea? It's a hair thingy and drink holder for while you shower, or poop.

PART III of this post Here