Daddy-Daughter Night (Or, My Daughter Loves Baseball!)

You know, I'm not a firm believer that you can will your children to do what you want them to do. You can provide important influences from an early age to help impact their decision-making, but you cannot make them be who you want them to be, or what you want them to do.

That being said, I really hope that my daughters grow up to be baseball fans. Annette and I love baseball, and I guess I just want that to be our "family sport." I'll be fine with our girls growing up to play basketball or run track or whatever they want (just no soccer, please). Hey, I'd even be okay if they said they didn't want to play sports at all.

But baseball is just the sport I love, and it really is the sport that Annette follows more closely than any other. Cami and Dani can choose their own teams, and I will support their decisions.*

*My wife has a theory about this. She contends that on those late nights when she worked at the hospital, I would open up the laptop, turn on the west coast games and teach my daughter the Dodger Way. This is not entirely ... false.

To make a long introduction longer, I reinforced my hope by taking Cami to the Springfield Cardinals game on Tuesday night. Annette chose to pass on this game, as she believes pregnant women don't handle 100-degree temperatures well. Can't argue with that.

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We arrived at the ballpark at approximately 7:03. I wasn't wearing a watch, but game time was 7:07, and we showed up just in time for the National Anthem and the "Play Ball." Our seats were sixth row behind the Cardinals dugout. In other words, they were sweet, and they were in prime positioning for a line drive foul ball or a t-shirt thrown by a cheerleader (Cardinalette?). Alas, neither came to fruition, but it mattered little.

The Cards put up four runs in the first, and that was really all that was necessary. From then on, I just enjoyed watching Cami take in the game. I bumped into an old bowling buddy during the first inning, and while he and I talked, I couldn't help but watch Cami sitting in her seat staring intently on to the field. I really think she was taking it in. I've not seen such focus in her eyes since Annette introduced her to "The Golden Girls."

After each half-inning, Cami asked me "Is over?" For the first three innings, I simply told her that the game wasn't over, just the half-inning. By the fourth, I would respond with "Yes, the half-inning is over." Not a lie, but not necessarily the answer she was looking for.

And then ... she saw him. Her nemesis. Her foe. It was Louie. The big red Cardinal bird started making his way around the stadium doing his game-time meet-and-greet, and he was headed our way. From a distance, Cami has no problem with Louie (pronounced Loo-dee). But when he headed down our row to say hi, Cami flipped out. She was sitting on my lap at the time, and before I knew it, she was practically over my shoulder trying to get away. He backed away, and by the time he had moved two rows up, she was laughing again.

Cam then decided she wanted to go to the play area. It was the seventh, and she was getting restless, so we walked out to the left field line. The inflatable was closed, but she was content to run around in the grass for a while. We left at the top of the ninth, just in time to not see the opponents score two runs. Final score was Cards 13, Bad Guys 3.

Cami and I stopped for ice cream. The whole night was a good time, but the best part was when my daughter hugged me at night, told me "Tink you" and "I luff you Daddy!"

I'm so thankful for things like baseball that bring me closer to my daughter. I just pray that we'll do it again a lot more.

Outnumbered (Or, How I Feel About Having Another Daughter)

In case you haven't heard through the grapevine, Annette and I are happy to announce that we are expecting a little girl. Again. That makes three girls and one dude. If you include our lovely dogs, we will be at a 4-to-2 ratio. I don't like my odds.

Honestly, my favorite part of announcing our impending daughter has been the reaction of others whenever Annette tells people the good news. Several people have responded with "Ohhh ... tell Bryan I'm so sorry." Apparently the going thought was that I would be tremendously bummed if I was not blessed with a little boy.

Disregarding the sarcasm, I really am excited about our little girl. Sure, I'd love to have a son. I'd like to teach him how to throw a softball. I'd love to show him how to play the guitar or the piano. I'd love to be able to do all of these things and more.

But here's the thing -- I can do the exact same things with my girls. Cami already likes to play baseball, and she and I have been working on our overhand throws. She loves music ... a lot. In fact, I'm a little concerned that she doesn't realize there is a number before two, but she can almost sing a Taylor Swift song word for word.

So yeah ... a son would be great. We'd have a lot of fun. But I'm excited about this Tuesday night too, where Cami and I are going to the Springfield Cardinals game and letting Mom rest in the midst of some scrapbooking materials. And I'm looking forward to doing the same thing with Dani.

Oh yeah ... I can't wait to introduce you to my daughter, Danielle Joann.

--B