The Answer is Blowing in the Wind

daphne on April 11, 2011

The question, of course, was the one I posed in a round-about way last week:  How do you protect your sprout-lings from the cold winds that blow?

You can plant the seeds.

You can nurture the little guys as they poke their heads into the world for the first time.

You can shower them with smothering love and affection as you watch them grow with pride but soon enough they will be begging to be set free, demanding to stand on their own out in the wild blue yonder

Oops.  Wrong sprouts.

Pardon the mistake but that’s bound to happen when you take parenting advice from a gardening site.  Which I have.  I read that in order to prepare your sprouts for the real world, you must blow on them.  This simulated mini-hurricane hardens your sprouts, making them stronger, thereby preparing them for the strong Colorado winds.

Or big bad life lessons, whichever nemesis applies.

The answer is blowing in the wind.  Or blowing on your plants.  Or letting your kids out into the world despite the fact that it can be a dark and scary place.

And so it was that our veggie sprouts began their training regiment of standing up to the fan.

And I, with a kiss and a forced smile, relinquished my sprouts to a panel of 12 judges.  The girls bent calmly into the wind.  They put themselves out there, faced their music, and wham bam 13-hours-in-a-gym later, they came away intact.

Not just intact, but ecstatic.  And bedecked with ribbons.

Here are the videos–

Kira’s Freestyle took first place for her age division.

Acadia’s Freestyle took first place for her division.

Kira’s Pairs Freestyle also took first.

Oh Yeah, the Ides of March

daphne on March 14, 2011

The ides of March are upon us.  Unlike Caesar, I know there are certain things one can expect as the middle of March descends.

There’s the nice things.  The lovely flowers reclaiming their rightful place, reaching up from leftover piles of winter slush.

Yes, hopeful spring with its naive little blooms.

And we mustn’t forget the little birdies; they are singing.

Well, not so much singing perhaps as maliciously casing our joint —

I see you there Pal.  And I remember you.  I remember you from 2009.   And I remember you from 2010.  Oh, Mr. Woodpecker, you darling March memento.

You of the “early morning jack-hammering on the metallic parts of our chimney” woodpeckers.

You, of the “drive my husband to the brink of insanity and the edge of our roof” woodpeckers.

Ahh, springtime with it’s chipper birds and beautiful flowers.

But wait, there’s more.  There are a couple of special things that ring out as harbingers of spring around our house.

Golly gee, there’s the storm-trooper Boot o’ Spring–

It’s my own subtle reminder that with another March comes the passing of another year, and with it yet another opportunity to immobilize the paper mache bones of my left foot.

And hey, you know what really says springtime? Innumerable hours spent inside sweaty high school gyms.

There’s the innocent scent of teen spirit.

The hum of hundreds of spinning ropes.

The blush of florescence on the faces of happy children.

And speaking of happy children, guess who’s had enough hanging around and watching big sister jump? Guess who has decided that sure, what the heck, she’s in, sign her up. . .

Look! It’s 7 year old Punky Jumpster, here in her practice debut —

Hey Caesar.  Happy spring.

The Birds, The Bees and The Booty Shake-Shake

daphne on April 25, 2010

I’ve got a bone to pick with a particularly heated humpback whale. Or maybe it’s that mudskipper’s fault. I don’t really know who’s to blame but my first grader has picked up an alarming new habit and she didn’t get it from me.

Maybe it’s the season.  Something in the air.

I know I just got through saying that this season was all about jumping rope, but perhaps I was hasty.  Even jumprope can’t trump that sense of er, love in the air.

Well, love.  Or mating.  Something like that.

I’ve got one kid happily engrossed in setting Abba tunes to spinning ropes–

And another who can’t stop talking about mating rituals…yours, mine, the cows, the birds…you name it, we’re discussing it.  And it’s all thanks to the incredible imagery in LIFE, the picturesque if slightly randy Discovery Channel documentary.

We were fascinated to learn the extent that some bird fellas will go to lure a pretty lady to his nest.   And thrilled, of course, that the kids finally have the down-low on the snuggling habits of cuttlefish.

But what my nine year old really needed to know was this:

So what did you do to attract your mate, Mom?

While I frantically tried to drum up an answer that didn’t include vodka shots or shimmying in dimly lit bars, her little sister stepped forward to field the question for me.

“I know how people attract a mate,” she boasted to her naive sibling. “Booty shaking.”

And her money-maker’s been in motion ever since.

Before you get suckered in by any cute thoughts about this dancing queen, I should confess:  This shake-shake routine goes out with a bang.  And by bang I mean a slap;  a playful slap executed upon her own unexpectedly and abruptly exposed shaking booty.

I am so proud, so proud you see.

Or mortified.  I get those two emotions mixed up.

Either way, thanks a bunch, natural world.  Sure, you’re educational, but I’m not really on board with the downward direction in which you’re dragging my little darling.

No, Not That Season

daphne on April 19, 2010

‘Tis not the season to be jolly.

‘Tis not the season for long, lazy days of riding bikes and lounging by a pool.

‘Tis particularly not the season to draw in deep carefree breaths of fresh air, unless you are particularly enamored of hours spent sneezing your head off.

‘Tis the season…

For jumping.

Last year I knew nothing from jump rope.  I carpooled and stumbled around blindly and despite my ignorance and incompetence we landed at the Junior Olympics and I wouldn’t have been more flabbergasted had a tornado risen up out of the sink.

I was proud.  I was stunned.  And I was stumped as to how best to support my jolly jumper.

This year, we know what’s up.  And we are all in.

For Kira, there are ropes to be jumped and ribbons to be won.

For me, there are children to be judged.   I don’t know why I thought that it would be nice to be out in the yard digging fresh seedlings into the dirt.  Fresh air and gardens evoke nothing compared to the whoops and howls of delight coming out of me during a Saturday spend indoors judging a child or 300.

That’s me; the intimidating looking judge second from the right.  I scrutinized moves as if I could tell an Awesome Annie* from a Backwards Frog*. (*Actual jump rope moves.  Go on, impress the crowds at your next cocktail party.)

While you’re busy with the image of me as a jump rope judge making you laugh until coffee squirts out of your nose, I will inform you that it was under extreme coercion with great pride that I agreed to provide direct support for my child’s chosen athletic outlet.

Because I may be clueless when it comes to handling an athlete, but I sure do love my kid.

And nothing says I love you like 12 hours in a gym.

And the medal goes to…

daphne on August 4, 2009

Ahhhh….Home sweet home! After 45 days away, 6,519 miles traveled, 22 states visited, 3 time zones traversed I am chomping at the bit to get back to my garden-turned-overgrown jungle.  I cannot wait to resume CSA deliveries, fresh from the farm that is promising me eggplant and peaches.  I am ready to share the myriad of garden secrets and outrageous recipes that I collected on my travels.

But first things first.

Our road trip culminated in Des Moines, Iowa, which in addition to being a balmy 78 degrees during our stay was the gracious host city for the Junior Olympics.  A number of our most avid jump rope fans have made it clear that there will be no waiting for an official post.  And so, without any further ado, the results:

Kira rocked it, jumping as high and fast as her little legs would go.  She got off the floor after most events with a smile on her face, proud of her performance, and that was all that I had hoped for.   We were awed and amazed when she placed both individually and as a pair, even scoring a silver medal for her pairs routine.

Thanks to everyone who showered Kira with support, and in so doing helped me figure out how to manage my little champ.  And now, a snapshot of Kira’s events at the 2009 Jr. Olympics…

The Eye of the Tiger

daphne on July 19, 2009

Just in case you’ve been wondering, the song looping in my head these days is Survivor’s Eye of The Tiger. It’s become a favorite of Kira’s for jump rope warm-ups.  What worked for Rocky also happens to be perfect for an eight year old girl heading to the Junior Olympics.

Practicing your routine is no walk on the beach.  Or maybe it is if you happen to take that walk upside down.

Not even a picture-perfect day on the beach in Amagansett stopped Kira from practicing.  She cartwheeled and hand-standed her way through her routine on the sand, pausing here and there to build castles, dig holes and jump in the enormous waves with her sister.  Now all I’ve got to do is convince those Olympics folks that the beach is a better spot to host the games. (Though I don’t doubt, as the nice lady at the chamber of commerce promised, that Des Moines is indeed delightful this time of year.)

Grandma has become quite the jump rope enthusiast. In addition to providing a lifetime supply of garlic for her granddaughters,

she leased the use of a racquetball court at the gym down the street, where Kira has been diligently jumping for about an hour every day.  For the record, so has coach mom. I don’t want to brag, but I can hang with her for about half an hour without collapsing into a pathetic heap. Maybe not Olympic-material, but it’s something.

The nice people at the gym have been watching Kira come and go for the past month with curious looks on their sweating face, so Kira indulged them with a preview —

I’ve been fielding lots of question about this sport, and though I’m no expert, here’s how I think it will go down at the big competition in less than two weeks: Kira is competing in 6 events; 3 individual and 3 with her partner.  These include Speed–how many single steps she can do in 60 seconds (think Rocky;) Power–how many times in 60 seconds she can turn the rope double for every single jump, and the freestyle routine.

Big plans aside, Kira unwound with some family time on the sailboat.  Just the wind, the waves, and the time to ponder some really deep thoughts.