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Browsing Tag: brave

So Long as They Jump

Saoirse and I were sitting on the couch together the other night, reading. Much to her little sister’s dismay, SK gets to stay up later than her younger siblings. Quinlan, in her imagination, thinks we spend this time gorging on cupcakes, or reenacting episodes of American Ninja Warrior, or laughing at some uproarious movie we’re all watching without her. Not so, though–the nights that Saoirse hangs out downstairs, this is what it is: sitting, reading, quietly talking. (In her defense, Quinlan really wants to just do that, too. She saves the Ninja stuff for other times, like when she’s supposed to be sitting down with us to dinner.) That evening, I was watching the fish wander around their aquarium in their spot across the room. Our smaller goldfish, R2 (or as I like to call her, Dumb) was quietly moving along, just happy to chase the bubbles around her tiny world. Finn, on the other hand (or as I prefer to call him, Dumber), was attacking the rocks that lay on the bottom of the tank, knocking them this way and that with a terrible goldfish-sized clatter in his desperate search…

Somebody Better Go Grab the Band-Aids

My children have a way of forcing out of my comfort zone. Not that I’m a total scaredy-cat, but there is something about getting a bit older, and having tiny people in your care, and realizing that your bones don’t quite bounce they way they did when you were eight that can make someone a bit more, well, staid. Careful. And dare I say? Boring.But kids–the same kids that have ruined air travel for me forever (my mind goes into hyperdrive: how many thousands of feet up in the air is my family, exactly? And there’s only one guaranteed result if the plane stops working?) are the same ones that push me, without realizing it, to get back to that same eight-year-old Leah who would race down a gravel hill on her new bike, hands in the air, not caring a whit that she hadn’t yet learned how to use the brakes (and, granted, that ride ended with me doing an aerial somersault over my handlebars in an accident so harrowing even the neighborhood bully came racing over to see if I was okay). Because children…

To Be Brave (No Water Ice Required)

There was a fundraiser held at my daughters’ school last week. The kids were supposed to run around a track with their classmates, trying to get in as many laps as they could within a certain period of time, essentially “earning” the money that their sponsors had donated to the school in support of them. We parents stood beside the track yelling “Mush! Mush!” in their faces in order to get them to go faster. No, I’m just kidding at that last part. We didn’t heckle them. This was a school-sanctioned event, after all. No, we cheered like good parents, and distributed water ice as a reward (cotton candy flavor! Swedish fish flavor! Mango flavor, but who wants orange fruit when you can have COTTON CANDY!) and took their pictures and told them what a good job they did. Sheesh. Saoirse was so excited for race day–she loves to run, and this fundraiser is one of the big events the school kids get to do for fun each spring. For them, it’s basically 45 minutes of happy running followed by dessert (“Mom! The cotton candy…