Compromise

Many days as a mother I feel inadequate. I don't know how to solve sibling arguments. I make a threat I know I won't follow through with. I say the completely wrong thing in the completely wrong tone. Sometimes though, I have great mommy moments.

We've been having homework problems. Homework is getting done and its quality is good, but no one is happy. Really, we all just want to play outside. It's hard to make the girls do their homework when the sun is shining and warm. So we compromise. Above, you see Hadley practicing her spelling words....

The Meet was fun, now what...

... a famous coach saw her talent, offered to pay for her lessons and we are on a new journey. Just kidding. I shouldn't mess with you like that.

The meet was fun; we're glad we did it. For now we will keep up with the recreational class, and hope for another opportunity to compete next spring. I'm thinking of this meet as a ballet recital.

The meet was fun, long and draining.  Each event is awarded a blue, red, or yellow ribbon. Hadley got a red ribbon on all her events. She made no major mistakes and didn't seemed to be bothered by nerves. I was impressed that performing didn't cause her lose her balance or forget her moves. The now familiar gym was rearranged, bleaches were jammed into every corner for the parents, and there were well over 100 girls there. Hadley was anxious and uncertain until she found her coach and her team. Her best friend was competing too. The other girls on the team have been practicing each element of their routines for months, and Hadley just learned them in the last three weeks.  She did great. I surprised myself with a new appreciation for learning the routines. I like the discipline and attention-to-detail required in a routine. Routines take the individual skills and string them together in a way that requires the gymnast to think about timing, execution, and in-between elements (like leaps and pointed toes) that bring fluidity to the routine.

The entry fees for our family and for Hadley equalled a whole month of lessons. With that in mind, I had trouble justifying participation in  the next meet on April 25. I did however tell Hadley she could do the next meet if she paid for half the entry fee. She has the money saved up (though she is saving it for a Star Wars costume!).  She wants the costume more and refused my offer. For now, I think she is content with what God provided and excited to keep learning.

Here are videos of some  of the events. I missed videotaping the vault completely because she was first and it happens so fast. And I turned the camera funny in one thinking I could reorient it later like I do with pictures. And I missed the opening handstand on the floor routine. But, these videos should give you a sense of the meet and a chance to marvel and how tall my Hadley is getting.

Note: These videos are on YouTube and I am just learning how to edit the HTML code to embad the videos directly into my blog. I tinkered enough with the code to make most of the screen visible in my blog, but don't feel like making it perfect. If you click on the little arrows in the corner of the video box, the video will fill your whole computer screen; to escape full screen mode, press ESC.








Coming soon: Kassy's birthday , which is today, and her Star Wars birthday party, which is Saturday...

Answered Prayers

Sunday at 7:30 am won't find any of us in bed. Generally, I treasure Sunday mornings. We don't need to hurry anywhere (a church start time of 10:15 is positively late). No leisure this Sunday. We are off to a gymnastics meet. If you've followed Hadley and her love of this sport, you must wonder how we arrived at this point.

I've struggled since the beginning of last summer with gymnastics. Clearly my oldest is smitten, bitten by the uninvited bug of gymnastic passion. The sport is pricey and dangerous. But what sport, done intensively, doesn't have a long list of risks? If her ambition was modeling, I would worry and fret about that. I can't stomach the fees  or  letting gymanstics destroy two or three family dinners a week, not yet. I can't let a sport take my girl away at such a young age. Yet, anyone who studies any sport or art to the point of recognizable success (be it a commerical, a title, a performance) gives many things up, is there a balance?  I still don't know, but for now, God changed the course I thought we were on, at least temporarily.

I watched Hadley all fall and ached. Her flipping, balancing, upside-down passion didn't wane. There were many nights of tears. Hadley wondered why God wouldn't let her compete. She knew He could change her parents hearts and provide the money. She knew multiple girls whose parents let them compete. Every night, since this summer, Hadley ended prayer time with a request that God would let her compete. I listened and winced --doubting there was any competition in her future. Sometimes in my daydreams I would get a job so she could compete, or money would come from somewhere and I could hand her, her dream. But even if the money came, I wasn't convinced that amount of time (6-12 hours a week) was healthy. And then there were stories I'd stumble upon in magazines, about girls who quit gymnastics only to worry about the lack of time working out and turn to eating disorders as an answer. I never found answers to my questions, but I found contentment, because regardless of the other issues, the money wasn't there. By December, I think both Hads and I had peace. God was in control. Even if she never competed, this passion and skill had a purpose we couldn't see.

In March, I stopped the coach to let him know Hadley loved his class. He's a good teacher and I wanted to encourage him. He's thoughtful too, passing down his daughter's used grips (for bar) so we wouldn't need to buy new ones. Coach responded with, "Maybe Hadley would like to do a fun meet?" Fun meets are what kids do in the early stages of competition. They perform routines, get judged but there isn't a state-wide ranking and coaches can be right next to them, helping them stay calm and remember the moves. Generally only kids enrolled in the team programs we had avoided could participate. Hadley heard him and her whole body started springing up and down while her eyes welled up with happy tears. Hesitant and uncertain, I asked questions. He thought she could learn the routines during her regular training hours. Perhaps she could participate in one meet without much extra cost to us. Almost crying myself, I said thank you and that we would check with Tom.

To my surprise, Tom gave a green light. Was it wise to let her compete in one meet? Would it just make her more upset in the long haul? The momentum was too strong now, Hadley believed God had answered her prayers. There was no turning back.

Weeks went by. Hadley learned no routines, but she was planning on this meet. Questions were flying through my mind. I finally stopped coach, asking him about his plans and timidly expressed my hope that this meet wouldn't be an emotional disaster. He explained the unanticipated difficulty of finding time to instruct Hads one on one with nine other girls in the class. But his plan far exceeded any of my imagined solutions. Hads has now received over five hours of free one-on-one or one two private instruction time. I feel indebted to the two coaches who have helped her. I don't really understand why we are receiving so much generosity. Sometimes I go to dark places wondering about alterior motives, but then I remember a big God who heard a little girl and a big God who heard a mother plead with him to make her daughter's faith real, and I know this is one step on the journey. And in truth, I am in no way obligated to this gym, though I do sing their praises regularly.

So think of us Sunday. Pray for us. I will be sitting in the audience, tensing my back and forgetting to breath when the hardest parts of a routine happen. This faith wave leaves me unable to plan or anticipate, grateful to know a God who can provide glorious riches beyond what we can imagine.

Girly Girls Meet Star Wars

Gathering together on couch for a family movie night a few weeks ago, I felt sorry for Tom. Here we all were, girls decked in pink with layers of silver tulle for a skirt, and he was telling him about the Millenium Falcon Spaceship he had as a boy. The show for the night was the original Star Wars, still an influential film. Tom moved on now to telling the girls about his Star Wars action figures. Poor Guy. These girly girls might not even tolerate the whole movie, but I didn't have the heart to say anything.

I fell asleep. Yup. Even with squirmy on my lap, I dozed. And the girls? They watched the whole movie, asking questions throughout. And the next day, they acted out the movie. And the next day they went to school and discovered a storm-trooper-army worth of kids who already knew about Jedi knights and told the girls Leia wasn't the only girl in the movies.

Then came the begging to see more Star Wars movies. The next weekend we showed them the Phantom Menace (movie #1). Immediately afterward, Kassy wanted to take her own money and buy a light saber (and she's my child who never wants new toys). Now, my sweet, youngest daughter has abandoned the girls in her class and spends recess playing Star Wars with the boys. No joke. She's having a Star Wars birthday party. She loves R2D2. Both girls are saving their money for Leia and Padme Halloween costumes. They bought Star Wars books at the recent book fair.

I should have known their interests were about to expand when they started complaining that they only had one pair of jeans each. (Why would a mother, whose girls only like skirts and dresses, buy more than one pair of jeans?)

Parenthood, and life, is a full of seasons. But our seasons don't begin and end with a date on the calendar and the signs of change aren't as obvious as falling leaves or blooming crocus. And so officially, I welcome the end of the princess fascination and wonder where this new force will lead.