the gymnast

We missed out on participating in the spring invitational this year.  Lily was so bummed.
(Picture daily crying spells lasting a minimum of 15 minutes each).
Kindly, the coaches allowed her to come in on a Saturday and bring her fans with her.  She performed each of her routines and was scored by a coach.   She is fun to watch, I love her fearlessness and competitive streak.  Although the later has me a bit perplexed.  It's hard to know whether to tamp it down just a bit, or let it go (it's what drives her desire?)  After one particularly hard day, she confided in me and said that the main reason she was sad about missing the invitational is because she wouldn't get the chance to win a trophy again. ohhhh.  I replied with all the things you might think of, like how fun it is to be able to learn and develop your skills in gymnastics.  And how cool to be able to have your family come and watch you (without the crowd) perform.  And how competition isn't everything.  Sometimes you just need to be proud of your accomplishments without comparing yourself to others.  I wonder if anything sank in.  My own head has been full of thoughts.  Again with the extra-curricular theme from the last post...there are lessons around each corner...and mostly they have nothing to do with the sport itself. :)  One things for sure, I love this little 5 year old gymnast.

The Razors

A simple caption would be that Zach had a great soccer season.  Got on with a talented little team of guys that tied for 1st in their division.  He was a force to be reckoned with, a scoring machine (the entire team was!).  But each Saturday morning I would sit up on that windy soccer hill, freezing in my little pop up chair and look around at the hundred or so other parents lining the fields.  And in a shivering state I'd ask myself, why in the world are we all here (so early too!?)  But oh, I look at these photographs! Concentration in that tongue, a gripped fist. Determination so evident in each muscle of his body.  From what I have gathered in my personal "mother that shuttles kids to activities all week long" experience, there is so much more than physical development going on.  

On Saturday evening I pushed my shopping cart out of the grocery store while Lily, beside me,  twirled and hummed, and jumped over every crack we passed.  I marveled at her beauty and innocence and, well, her agility too.  My heart did that thing wherein it feels altogether too large for the space inside my body.  And I wanted her to know, so I said, 

"Lily, you are worth more than all the diamonds, all the rubies, and all the gold in this whole wide wide world!"

She looked up at me as we continued to walk, steadying herself with the cart, and smiled wide. 

In reply she raised her voice to a girlish pitch and said, "Yeah, I think pretty much only Jesus might be better than me."

I laughed out loud.  I'm not sure how I expected her to reply, but it was perfect Lily-form.  And I realized in that moment that despite this world's ability to be so cruel to girls, I desperately want her to always feel this way.  More than diamonds, rubies and gold.

It's difficult to be concise these days.

Moving is funny that way. 

You take everything out of the cupboards,

inspect it, box it up, throw it out, make piles... 

I'm referring to the stuff we surround our lives with.

But I'm also talking about the mental and emotional process too.

A fresh start, a new beginning...well, there is just so much to evaluate.

Moving is a natural opportunity to decide what stays and what goes.

I'm trying to choose wisely.