Just Do(ing) It

Last week I wrote about how Kate came into her own this year with her love of swimming and basketball. I am a firm believer in the importance of athletics for girls (ask me sometime, I’m sure you’d love to hear me get on my soapbox), and I love to watch her confidence grow with every game or meet in which she competes. And let’s face it – I like to pretend I am still an athlete too.

This week we both get to live out our dreams at the Nike Young Athletes Innovation Summit.

We’re traveling to Beaverton, Oregon to visit the Nike world headquarters and to learn about what Nike is doing to advance youth athletes. We are so, so excited for this once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I am thrilled to have three days of one-on-one time with my girl. I also can’t wait to tell you all about it, so I’ll be tweeting and facebooking throughout the weekend. I’ve been scouring the internet for pictures of Nike’s campus, and it looks like an absolutely amazing place. I cannot wait to go.

I promise not to steal any Michael Jordan paraphernalia. Maybe.

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Kids Nike FREE Run: If your feet flex, shouldn’t your shoes flex too? Must-
have flexibility for young feet.

Disclosure: Compensation was provided by Nike via Glam Media. The opinions expressed herein are those of the author and are not indicative of the opinions or positions of Nike.

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Separation anxiety, and stuff.

Pick me up!! You can't resist this smile!

This is my darling baby guy.  At 16 months he is walking all over the place, picking up speed.

He could pick up a lot more speed if he would freaking detach himself from my leg.

You guys.  I am blowin’ town for four days, just ten days from now.  For the past three weeks Jonah has been all over me like white on rice.  He wants to nurse con.stant.ly.  I exaggerate not at all.  He’ll play for 10 or 15 minutes and come back for more.  At his most content, he’ll just toddle over and rub his face all over whatever part of me he can reach before he returns to play.

It’s driving me cray-zee.  I’m worried he’ll lose his  mind while I’m gone.  I’m worried I’ll lose mine before I go.  I’m worried that I’ll worry about him the whole time I’m there.

I wish he would wean, but he wants to nurse now more than ever.  Growth spurt?  Developmental change?  Secret plan to drive me to the brink of sanity as punishment for my plans to travel to sunny Miami without him?

I love my baby boy, so much.  I love playing with him, I love snuggling with him, tickling him, singing our silly songs.  I love love love him.

I do not love this stage he’s in.

I hope we both make it through the next couple of weeks.

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The Seventh Year

Kate,

In a few days, you’ll turn eight. You’re having a skating party with your friends, and your dad and I have a few surprises up our sleeves. But before we get there, I want to stop and remember the year you were seven.

For about a month, you were a Star Wars fan.

You gave that up pretty quickly, and just yesterday you made your brother cry by asking him if the Yoda on his shirt was Darth Vader – you insisted you didn’t know the difference.

You gave softball a shot, but decided your love was swimming.

It was your third swim season, but this was the year it clicked for you. After standing on the block in tears the first time you had to swim the butterfly at a meet, you discovered that it was actually your best – and favorite – stroke. Your coach watched you swim and said “It looks like we’ve got a butterfly-er on our hands!” You won more “personal best” ribbons than you did “first place” ones, but the most important thing you won was the Gator Award at the end of the season, given to you for sportsmanship, attitude, and just being an all around great kid.

You and I did a lot of fun things together this year, just the two of us. We got pedicures one day.

We went to see the Beach Boys.

We painted pottery.

We did lots of fun things as a family, too, like taking a vacation to Michigan, where you and your dad bought vintage cowboy boots.

You started second grade.

You were a good friend, and a loving and protective sister.

You also found your second sport – basketball. I know we’re not supposed to live out our dreams in our children, but I can’t tell you how happy it made me to see you learn to love to play. You practiced, worked hard, and learned so much.

This year, you sat me and your dad down and told us your suspicions that Santa wasn’t real. You were sad for a moment when we told you the truth, and then you quickly started to think about how you could be in on making holidays fun for Sam.

You grew up a lot this year, Kate. Not all of it has been easy for you. You’re so smart and mature that your dad and I often expect too much from you, and sometimes it’s hard being the older sister. But I hope you will always know that you are the most important thing in the entire world to us.

I love you, Kate. More than everything put together.

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