Daddy, the Enforcer

Last night, Diane called me at work shortly before the 10:00 newscast, and as we were chatting, she gasped, "Oh my gosh, Kyra's still awake. She's in her bed singing. Here, I'm going to give her the phone. Tell her to go to sleep."

She caught me off guard. "Wha...why don't YOU tell her to go to sleep?" I asked.

"Because she'll listen to you. Here she is."

And with that, I was cast into the spotlight: it was showtime. Kyra took the phone and greeted me in her cheery voice, "Hi Daddy." Today was a half-day of school for the girls, which meant Kyra would go to school in the morning instead of her usual afternoons, and that she would get to take her lunch box and eat in the cafeteria with the other kids. Kyra was going to get to do big girl things and she was excited. Too excited to sleep. But still.

I quickly took my disciplinary tone with her, "Sweetie, it is WAY past your bedtime and you need to be up early for school tomorrow. Stop messing around and go to sleep."

"But Daddy..." Kyra ALWAYS has something to say.

"Stop messing around and go to sleep...goodnight," I enunciated.

"BWWWAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaa," the sound of Kyra's bawling trailed off as Diane took the phone and exited her room. You'd have thought I thrust a spike through her ear. Have I mentioned before that Kyra has a flare for the dramatic?

Diane got back on the line and I thanked her for that pleasant and uplifting phone experience and then excused myself to get ready for the newscast. Sometimes I hate playing the heavy.

Gettin' Yer Bell Rung

Tuesday night, Diane and I took Kailey to her gymnastics class which we had to reschedule because of a conflict with softball. Her rescheduled class was later than normal, and the gym bustled with several classes of girls of varying age going through a variety of exercises from floor, to vault, to balance beam...you get the picture. Only one thing will stop all activity in the gym dead in its tracks and it's situated on one wall next to the vault: a bell. It is a common practice that when a budding gymnast accomplishes a new feat, she, or the occasional he, bounds over to the bell and rings it. The gym goes silent as all attention is directed toward the ringer of the bell, followed by the collective question inquired by all who are present, "WHADJA DO?" The bell-ringer then gives a description of the mastery of their new skill:

"I did a somersault!"

"I climbed the 20-foot rope without plummeting to my death!!"

"I did a roundabout half-pike, triple gainer with a lemon twist!!"

The gym then bursts into cheers and applause, and the bell-ringer runs back to join her class, beaming with pride.

Kailey recently moved up to the next level and is doing quite well. I'm often impressed by her gracefulness as well as her natural ability to pick up new maneuvers quickly. About halfway through the session, her class moved to the low balance beams, situated about a foot off of the floor. They began by doing their normal beam exercises, but then her instructor introduced a new move to the balance beam: the handstand toe-touch. The girls are used to doing this move on the floor. They start by going into a handstand, touch their toes at the top of the handstand, then bring their legs back down to the floor where they resume their standing position. Now they were supposed to do this on the beam. The handstand position was no problem for most of the girls, but they were falling all over the place as they tried to land squarely back on the beam.

When she started, Kailey was stumbling and tumbling like the rest of the girls, but then began sticking her landings. Granted, she was only going a quarter of the way up on her handstand, but as her confidence grew, she went higher and higher in her handstand while sticking more of her landings. Her instructor worked with her for a minute, saw her stick a landing, and, yup, you guessed it, sent her over to the bell. Diane and I smiled as we watched Kailey trot with confidence across the gym to where the bell sat on the wall. She gave the string a tug and the bell sang out, prompting everyone in the gym, as if on cue, to respond with the required inquiry:

"WHADJA DO?"

Kailey took a deep breath, then stopped. Her proud smile faded from her lips and the blood drained from her face as she realized she had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA OF HOW TO EXPLAIN WHAT SHE HAD JUST DONE. Her little body slumped against the wall as she felt the stare of every eye in the gym boring into her, waiting to hear the details of her fantastic feat. Her eyes widened to what seemed the size of her head, revealing the churning wheels of her mind that desperately searched for an explanation. After what seemed like an eternity, Kailey muttered something unintelligible, at least to Diane and me as we tried to stifle our laughter, then scurried back to her class to the gracious cheers of the parents and other gymnasts.

She completed the rest of her class without incident, but I think she left the gym having learned an important lesson. If you're gonna ring the bell, you'd better have a damn-good explanation.

Nioxin...Does it Work?

About a month ago, I began experimenting with Nioxin when it was presented to me by my color technician sister-in-law. Shortly after making this public confession, I was encouraged by Beast Mom to take before/after pictures to show the progress. I was sceptical that the stuff would even work, but after a month of use, I believe there is a noticeable difference. So without further ado, I present to you the before/after effects of Nioxin, and you can be the judge. I'll address the side effects later.

First, my hairline before Nioxin. This picture was taken on Kailey's birthday, roughly two weeks before I started the daily Nioxin regimen:

OK. Now the after pic, roughly five weeks later. Thoughts?

As you can see, the runoff from my original application thickened my eybrows as well as darkened my skin, but I can deal with those side effects because I can definitely perceive a thickening effect in my hair. Highlights too!! Nioxin is amazing and I give it my wholehearted endorsement!

Saving Our Planet

I just had the following conversation with Kyra as we were on our way to school:

"Daddy, yesterday in school we learned we need to save our planet by getting trashed."

Once again I'm questioning our decision to send our girls to public school. "What do you mean by 'getting trashed'?" I laughed.

"We need to pick up our trash and we need to have three different containers: one for paper, one for cans, and one for bottles," she explained.

"Very good, Sweetie, but that's called RECYCLING, not GETTING TRASHED."

Kyra might be on to something though. Getting trashed to save our planet might entice many more people to get with the program.

The Night the Bats Were Silent (Game Night)

It was a cold, blustery evening for softball, and it seemed like the Blue (Balls) Bandits were in no mood to play, which became evident in their 4-0 loss to the Amazon Women of Sahuaro. Seriously, half the girls on the other team looked like they should be playing on the 13U team. The final score is deceptive because the Amazon Women had an extra at bat where they scored three runs before the game was called due to the time limit. I hate the time limit because it's a disadvantage to the home team. The visitors are almost always guaranteed an extra at-bat, and the Bandits have lost at least two games because of this.

Have you noticed a little change of tone here? It's amazing how much my attitude toward the game has changed over the course of the season. At the start of the season, everyone was cheering for all the girls, but as the season progressed it was obvious how competitive these teams were. Now, we want to see the Bandits crush the opposition. Last night, Diane and I were secretly cursing the Amazon Women under our breaths (and to each other), willing them with our mind-powers to swing at crappy pitches. Yes, we know, we are horrible people.

We could have won this game, or at least have been a little more competitive, if the girls would have duplicated their normal hitting performance. But none of our sluggers were hitting. It seemed like everyone kept striking out. Kailey fell victime to the "K" in her first at bat, but crushed the ball over the shortstop's head into left field on her second and last at bat. She and another runner were left stranded on base as other Bandit batters failed to hit the ball. Defensively, she did well, cleanly handling a ground ball while playing left field and nearly throwing out the runner at first base.

Only three more games before tournament time. Hopefully by then our bats will come back to life.