Volleyball
Month: August 2019
First Game
Tonight, the Girl had her first game as a member of her middle school volleyball team. She tried out last year, but she didn’t make the cut. That was not going to cut it. She worked and practiced for the last year and this year, her first year, she’s actually a starter.
How did she do? She showed an awareness of the game that was impressive; she was a good sport and supportive team member; she cheered her team enthusiastically when she was on the bench; she smiled a lot.
I sat with K and the Boy and cheered. And felt a fair amount of frustration about the fact that I’d forgotten to take a camera with me to school…
Sunday Afternoon
Sometimes, all the kids really need is a little attention. L won’t often admit it, but of course, she does — we all need it. The Boy, though, will just ask for it.
“Daddy, can we have some E-Daddy time this afternoon?”
Today, we got out the birthday bb gun and began shooting at our normal target: a magnolia tree in the middle of our yard with a lot of trees and undergrowth in the area across the creek to stop any stray rounds and the nearest house a few hundred feet away. Today, though, we began shooting at other things: Clover’s ball (an old volleyball that she’s stripped bare), which moved a little every time we hit it; the Boy’s old dump truck, which, made of metal, returned a satisfying ping every time we hit it.
Afterward, a bit of swinging while I snapped pictures and kicked the ball for the dog.
Another perfect Sunday afternoon.
First Day 2019
The Girl started seventh grade today, the Boy began second grade. The Boy, in his multi-age classroom, is now an “older friend” as opposed to a “younger friend.” “I know my teachers,” he explained when I asked why he was so confident about going to second grade. There’s a lot to be said for the continuity of having the same teachers for a couple of years.
The Girl starts algebra this year, and she’s on the school volleyball team, and she makes her own breakfast and packs her own lunch. Our little girl is no more; she’s a young lady, looking more and more like her maternal grandmother every day.
I began, I believe, my 20th or 21st year of teaching. I could count it up, I suppose, but what’s the point? More or less is more or less enough. Taking all I’ve learned from teaching, I began all classes with very little worry, very little concern: I know what works for an opening day; I know what doesn’t work. I filled the day with the former and successfully avoided even a hint of the latter. The kids are sufficiently assured that I can be as tough as I need to be and adequately convinced that my class can even be — dare I say it — amusing and fun at times.
Final Sunday
The last Sunday before I head back to school; the kids have one more week.
Thus ends summer 2019.
Lake Jocassee 2019
Just a little over a year ago, we went camping for the first time at Lake Jocassee — not our first visit, but our first time camping there — and we knew that we would have to go back. Again. And again. This year, we returned, taking our same camp site — our beloved Site 20 — and going to the same places, doing the same things. With one difference: K, finishing up a course, stayed home.
“I can study better for the final without you all anyway,” she rationalized, but of course we all wanted her to go with us as much as she wanted to be there.
Still, it created a new dynamic as I explored an adventure with the Boy and the Girl. There’s a difference in fun in threes that makes us rely on each other a little more and realize — for the millionth time — just how much K brings to our family.
For one thing, we’re much more relaxed about getting started in the morning. If it were not for K, I don’t think we’d get half the things done we usually get done. K is the early riser in the family, and even when we’re on vacation, she makes sure we’re up and eating at a decent out, out for our first adventure, ready for our second well before lunch. Without her, we managed breakfast by 9:00, usually making it to the water an hour later as we went to get ice for the cooler, to drop off the trash, and to accomplish various meaningless tasks.
Part of that might have been the inability to split tasks due to having only one adult present, but honestly, we just got up a lot later than we would have earlier.
It’s tempting to say that everything else was the same, but how could it be? Everyone’s a year older, a year wiser. The Boy made a friend and spend a good bit of time on his own with his friend J, in sight but most decidedly independent. The Girl floated out to an isolated area and lived in her own world at times. The Dog wanted — actually begged — to get in the water.
The next day was more of the same, but with a major change: the rock we discovered last year that was simply a lovely spot to go and watch the sunrise and do some fishing, became a jumping platform. The Girl, seeing me and others do it, leapt into the water without much hesitation at all. The Boy? Well, J his new friend was there, jumping off with abandon. The Boy didn’t wait: off he went after a quick check to make sure I was in the water to help him if needed.
Tackling the Leylands
