Take a Picture

My morning today started early.  We had a swim meet so up and at um girls we are outtie.  We love swim meets.  I love the community, excitement, and basically anything with a timer really is the bees knees in my opinion.  (Race the machine...)

Being a Durhamite I always see someone I know from the past.  But today was a great day.  We chose to sit in the shade in the lawn.  And because we are a part of Durham's biggest swim team, we all camped out together outside the gates since we were visitors.  (That is the closest I will get my husband to camping.  Surprised?  Help me convince him it's a good idea.  Please.)

It was made of small beautiful moments.  Nothing substantial.  But I looked around as I sat and waited.  I took mental pictures.  I saw a mom give her precious, adopted and dripping wet girl an Eskimo kiss as she got out of the pool and did her best.  She then had thoughtfully packed healthy snacks and handed her one.  (Let's not judge, but that definitely beat my Cheetos and sugar drink snack bar run.  Cutting up fruit was not on my agenda this am.) Another mom carefully applied sunscreen to her child three times, squinting to make sure it was all rubbed in.  An older woman beside me and I started up a conversation about Old Durham and people we knew.  She was there to watch her grandson swim, and she kept checking during our talk to make sure she didn't miss anything.

I threw back my head in laughter at a friend telling me the story of the day she leaned to bop her kid in the head (with love) getting her to behave in swim practice.  And then she summersaulted in with the team.  The coach not seeing the fall acting all confused as how she got in there.  My friend equally embarrassed.  Her husband there to lift her out and she sat there sopping wet until they got home.  My other college friend locked her keys in her car, we drove her home, and reminisced about a funny college story I might have to blog about later, involving one of our classmates who is with Jesus now, precious friend he was.  Glad to have that extra time with her.

I chatted with my older daughter's homeschool enrichment teacher about our story, and we agreed it's important to do what's best for our kids whatever that looks like, public, private, or homeschool. Dads were there volunteering on their Saturdays off.  One dad used his own watch to time his little girl.  (I should add he did this behind the two timers already timing her.)  I loved the look on his face when he realized she had a personal record.  I saw another mom who volunteers had purchased a special bag in our team colors just because.  I cheered on our neighbor who won her heat.  I gave her mom a thumbs up afterwards and felt a little teary as I remembered her as a baby.

I overheard a dad say to my friend that her little girls reminded him of when his little girls were small.  His kids are well past swim team age but he still volunteers since she's a coach now.  How he missed those days.

And I'm sitting here, sore throat from cheering (screaming) for my little girl.  My little swimmer who dove right in to swim team, never really swimming before, to a group of which she knew no one, and thriving.  And I'm proud of her courage and strength.  I'm proud of myself for pushing her and demonstrating nothing different than diving right in and doing it if you love it.  Don't look around you just swim.  And I'm proud I'm old enough to know that you can be proud of yourself as a mom, as long as credit is given to our Creator.  We moms do good things.  Claim it and press on.  

And I'm looking back on my morning.  My half day made of small moments.  I saw care and compassion all around me.  I saw mommies and daddies lined up to video and take pictures of their kids trying their dang best to swim from one end of the pool to the next.  Sometimes watching them struggle across to the finish, out of breath with them.  Congratulating the ones who finished way last place.  But they finished.  And they did their very best.

And I'm remembering that we are all in this race together.  All these insignificant small moments really add up.  All of these mamas and daddies and friends cheering for our children, really just wanting the best for them, in a world where it seems like things are falling apart sometimes.  And where we leave the swim meet and we're all reminded that there are children and families in much worse places and we pray, and hope, Lord make it right.  Use me to help.

And I'm thankful.  Thankful for healthy children who run and swim and laugh and drive me to my knees.  I'm loving having a voice to cheer on my kids, alongside other families doing the same.

I'm reminded some of us are faster, some are slower, but we all get there in the end.  I just hope we're all taking pictures as we go.