Thursday, September 13, 2012

Lucky 13

 Holy Hannah, would you lookit this: we got ourselves a teeanager! She just gets older each passing year. I know: super deep.
The irony at being consistently surprised by an annual event never ceases to amaze: I do it for each of the offspring's birthdays, every summer break, every Christmas. I'm reasonably intelligent, good at patterns. But I just never see it coming, the milestones that take her from my baby girl to my young woman. They accumulate, and wham! Who's THAT girl?
 Always eager to accommodate, my Eve. Take this Rockies game, for instance. Just so I'll continue to acknowledge her (i.e., laugh and talk with her, drive her around, buy her Aeropostale), she wears the grey Rockies T. For daddy, who bankrolls our lives and takes baseball uber seriously, the vintage A's cap. A builder of bridges, a peacemaker. Always has been.
 Also a swimmer. Which means more than the fact that she's water safe. Like most sports, a whole shorthand of behaviors and characteristics is implied but never explicitly stated: Determined. Dedicated. Consistent. Encouraging. Supportive. Level-headed. Reliable. Driven. A time manager. A planner. Prone to sacrifice. And when you hold the beautiful infant in your arms for the first time, you may never consider how important you find those characteristics in others and how many of them you want that child to possess. We just count ourselves blessed that she came to earth this way, and that we found, relatively early on, what she loves and what will help shape her into the gal she needs to be. 
 Eve's never been a huge reader - I would spend literally hours reading to her throughout the day when she was small - but reading for her own enjoyment and enlightenment never held much priority until I brought home Suzanne Collins' masterwork in the Hunger Games series. Eve was in from the first sentence, just devoured them. And now she branches out into like-minded books, reading hours a day, ON HER OWN. I never expected her to be just like me, and, truthfully, wouldn't wish that on her, but to share that love of reading, well, I can feel good about that wish coming true.
 And we celebrate all things Eve with a rowdy sleepover...Eve's always been an easy laugher. Most times, I think, less because you're actually funny than because she's so delighted to be sharing happiness with you.
 Like I said, they were rowdy. But so great. A roving pack of screaming gigglers.
And so, my cross-eyed little beauty...many happy returns. We bless the day you came along and rearranged everything so splendidly, endlessly grateful for every day since. 

Thursday, September 6, 2012

These Are But Two of our Favorite Things...

 Some of you may not know. So I'm here to tell ya. The Denver Broncos have procured the services of one Peyton Manning at the quarterback position.
We're excited about that.
Now that the Broncos hold Training Camp sessions in the south Denver metro area (technically Englewood), attending is much more convenient than it was back in the day when Dad and I trekked in Greeley to watch Elway break the fingers of unsuspecting receivers...it's so convenient, in fact, and folks are so excited over the prospect of this fella taking snaps in the Mile High City, that the daily attendance at training camp numbered into the thousands. On opening day there were 4,000-something; on our second day, about 10 days later, we were among the over 5,000. We waited for loaves and fishes...I can't even finish that sentence. Too sacreligious. 
 Some of you may not know that we swim, either. We do. A lot. This particular shot captures the bliss of a twilight swim at Gilbert Pool in Castle Rock, when the park was closed to residents for a private party for the brave souls (and their families) who coach youth sports for the Rec League. We're continually grateful Matt devotes such a large chunk of his time to his own kids and those in the community - walkin' the talk, that boy.
 Did I mention we attended Broncos Training Camp? I did? Huh.
 Has it been sufficiently illustrated, the degree to which our little family appreciates the on- and off-the-field talents of one Peyton Manning? Grace didn't think so, and took it upon herself to illustrate some more.
 Swimming. Or, rather, splashing and squealing.
Evie and Gracie. Neither swimming or Peyton-ing. But it was cute.
Our summer was a scorcher, nigh unbearable, and I'm a little incredulous that Grace found occasion to wear a cardigan, quite frankly.