7:05 p.m.

Up the hill we walk, stepping into the incline of the Boulevard, increasing-breathing harder, exchanging smiles and glances. Her white tails flip back and forth in her cadence. Her hair pulled back, hair pinned again and again leaving no questions regarding a single strand.

Tae Kwon Do is less than an eighth of a mile, perhaps even less, we walk together tonight since the rare occasion of not needing to be at home is an option. She steps slightly ahead of me, enough to give my viewing of her an advantage of full sight, pulling forward, small comment, waving back and forth, stepping into the night's activities, making comments. She is almost as tall as I and anyone who knows me knows that this is no small feet and as much filling these shoes, she steadies herself, quietly pausing, however anxious to lead. Since leaving the screaming of the coaching of Club Soccer, of the whining, but loosing the team, the group, the belonging, she has chosen the singular Focus, kicking the shit out a poor instructors hands, gloved, but not enough for velocity that comes from the hinge of those hips, and comes home face flushed-blistered, empowered by her own space, carved out of our conjoined lives, as her own, knowing she is yet stronger still.

She wishes for the ball. But is happy to have respite. She focuses on improvements and knows that the more she comes to it, the more IT will come to her. As always in the unspoken ways, I am in Awe of her. I wish I could take credit for her creation, but that is a lie. It is she who creates herself and creates MORE of me. And bouncing, strapped to her back, a small pink dot across the intersection as I watch her walk away, the gentle rise and fall, rise and fall, "Choose to Matter" she has taken it to her heart and I know, I will see it more and more to come, in the blossoming of my beautiful daughter.

Schooler

With her braid like pig tails, she charges out the door, stabbing the street with every step, plaid skirt swaying towards 8th grade. She is alive and vibrant, plated and bejeweled subtly so not to distract the morning's lessons. My girl, my love, my baby soon to be a high schooler and me, in my my mind in grad. school-perpetually. All the prayers I have for her unfold and she smiles and quips and spins and jokes and I have to stop and BE with her and sit in consciousness to notice that it is happening, she is here, she is so lovely and I am hopelessly in love with her. Her touch, her sweet ness, the spark of her woman-hood shrouds her and sits in the shadow creeping ever closer and my own light casting it's shadow still strong and my resolve ever vigilant. My heart expands and my life enriched as she breathes another day and makes silly faces and forgets to brush her teeth and sets my world a wonder and for her I am truly grateful.

Multi-tasking

When your bulk size laundry detergent falls on top of your party-size pack of ribs, it's considered tenderizing