Roots and Wings...
I’ve been rushing around trying to get two out of print designs ready to switch over to the full colour cover format before I take the girls up to my mother’s for a week. School doesn’t end until the 27th of June here, but once Erin turns her last major project in tomorrow, most work that counts will be done. At this point, getting out of Nick’s hair so that he can get all the paperwork done before the end of the year at his school, spending time with my Mom and immersing the kids in French for a week far outweighs the stuff that they will miss at school.
Activities are also winding down at last. Erin’s piano recital was last week, Guide Camp amid swarms of nasty black flies was this past weekend (no, the dragon did not go and get bit this time!) Bethany’s Sparks closing was last week and Erin’s final Girl Guide meeting is tomorrow night (I guess I should now say tonight!). Luckily we have started writing everything on one central calendar. Last week, there was a conflict over events that we only discovered after it was too late to get a sitter!
Erin had been asked to try out for one local swim team and after two sessions, which she enjoyed immensely, we began to realize how tricky getting to the other side of town was going to be during rush hour traffic for a 6pm evening practice. Tonight, she went to the practice of the swim team that meets at Université de Moncton’s CEPS building. It is a bilingual swim team, but much of the coaching and instructions are done completely in French. She was determined to try swimming tonight even though she was still tired from camping this weekend so that she could have a second session with them on Wednesday night before we leave on Saturday to visit Quebec. By the time we get back, the pool will be closed for cleaning and the coach’s evaluation would have to wait.
I doubt I could explain how I felt tonight to anyone who has never been part of raising a child or watching one grow. I looked down at Erin trying her hardest in a new and challenging situation and felt this wave of admiration and astonishment. I felt a bit like a bird peering at the Mockingbird chick that hatched from the egg in the nest. Could this child who is constantly running, jumping and now hauling herself through the water in all kinds of strokes really be the child of someone who was always picked last for every team? I have only fallen in love with physical activity in the past 5 years. Before that, I always wanted to sit and read, draw or stitch.
I have two daughters that constantly amaze and enchant me. I hope I am always able to give them both roots and wings. I hope I can support them in their wild and crazy dreams, encourage them to at least try a new challenge to see if they like it and comfort them or help pick up the pieces when something truly becomes impossible or unreachable.
I’m still chasing new dreams in this my 40th year...
OK! This is getting too philosophical. Time for this dragon to head to bed!
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