This Girl...

The only sounds are the steady hum of the gymnasium's a/c on full force as it desperately attempts to triumph over this sudden and oppressive heat wave. I can see my 7 year old's gymnastics' team through the viewing window and it isn't difficult to spot my own child in the sea of flipping girls. Her green and orange tie-dyed leotard screams for attention. She is so... strong. Hours and hours of dedicated physical work have transformed my baby girl into an Athlete with a capital "A." Never again will I be able to watch gymnastics during the Olympics without knowing how much time and dedication they have invested... To say nothing of the cost!

She is on the bars now, doing an extremely repetitive drill: pike and swing, pull-up and over, cast and flip and land. And again. And again. AND AGAIN. A break to chalk up her palms... And Again. Small corrections to toes and elbows... And Again.

Wherever her determination comes from, it definitely isn't from me. Wherever her drive and push stems from, it isn't from her Momma. In many ways, I do see myself in her, but I see myself at 37, not 7. When I WAS 7,  no adult outside of my immediate family could have known how blue my eyes were as I didn't want anything to do with them and wouldn't look them in the eye, but this girl? This girl will introduce herself to you and your children and invite you into a conversation so detailed, you would think she was an adult instead of barely out of first grade...

This girl has confidence and curiosity and a fearless quality about her that most adults envy.

I know that I, for one, do.

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