So I’m trying to do some internal site fixes and I keep breaking more than I’m fixing. Thanks for your patience this week as I work out commenting issues and other crap. I hope to be back to full speed soon — hopefully with some neat new features.Until then, you can read about our first trip to the ballpark this year over at the Chronicle’s parenting blog, The Poop.
Don’t let the “uniform” fool you. For her birthday, Emme got a new baseball bat and five balls — all of which she promptly smashed over our neighbor’s fence. I can seriously fast pitch the kid now, and she’ll whomp 3 out of 5 of them. (Well, fast-ish.) We actually had to stop playing hit ‘em at home in favor of the park, because there wasn’t a fence she couldn’t conquer or ball she couldn’t lose. It’s funny that she can rope any manner of ball for a kid-sized home run, but she can’t catch — or really throw — for the life of her. Hmm, I’m starting to change my position on the designated hitter. They have that in Little League, right?