Her Father's Daughter

Ava and I played in the yard tonight. We'll, maybe 'played' is not the word. The first picture is one of very few I got of her actually looking at me. She inspects everything with a seriousness that is paralleled only by her daddy. I'm imagining taking her outside and getting some great pictures of her crawling around in the grass and enjoying the sunshine... she cracked a smile only once. Other than that, is was an hour of contemplative touching of every leaf and piece of grass in the yard. Amazingly for Ava, only one rock found it's way into her mouth. After a motherly swipe of my finger through her mouth to remove the foreign object, and the dirt that accompanied it, she resumed her inch by inch tour of the yard. Every object more interesting than the next, my constant calling of her name would not break her concentration.... she is her father's daughter.

New Favorite Pics of the Peanut

New tricks

I carry toys in my mouth when I crawl... very convenient for getting places quickly!

Drive by tacklings... Charlie used to be able to get away, now I tackle him as he walks by... he has no idea what hit him!

My new hairstyle... what do you think? Pig Pen... isn't that the Charlie Brown character? That's who mom thinks I look like.

And I've already figured out I'll be embarressed by these pictures someday, so I'm learning to strategically place my letters!

Saturday.

A group of 20 girls who had worked all season to get to a Saturday morning game... a Saturday morning that came to a startlingly quick end. A Saturday morning game that ended with heaving sobs in a quiet locker room filled with broken hearts. Just a game... I keep telling myself it's just a game. But it feels like so much more than that.

2 years I have helped coach this group of girls through victories and through losses, but none seemed as painful as this. I realize now that it wasn't the loss. It was the thought that this was the last time in a locker room together... the last time we would look at this group of passionate and determined girls in their uniforms... the last time we would get on a bus together and ride back to school in satisfied exhaustion. Now I realize that even if we had won the trophy on that Saturday morning, my heart would still hurt. Because somewhere along the way I have become attached to this incredible group of young women. The only way I know to cope with the sadness I'm carrying in my heart is to be excited about what the future holds for each of these girls. To imagine next year when I can go to their game and watch them win against the group of girls who broke their hearts on Saturday. And I will be cheering. I will be cheering the loudest.