Good growing baby, my OB said as she ran the measuring tape up my ever-growing belly. Suddenly her hand furiously jerked in response to the growth-cooperative baby's kicks. Busy baby, she added. You always have busy babies, don't you? she mused, while Heath monologued a one act play about the Osteoporotic bone sculpture display engaged in fistacuffs with a T-Rex (played by his left hand), and Stella took a stirrup's blood pressure.
Meanwhile, Stella is loving, and I do mean loving, her Tuesday morning ballet class at the local Y. When I tell her it's time to get ready for dance, she eagerly scampers off to her room, returning with her shiny purple leotard, pink tights, and beloved pink slippers.
It's also Heath's first venture into the art (or pain) of waiting for his sister while she engages in an activity that has nothing to do with him. He has made a co-waiter friend, an older brother of one of Stella's dance mates. They pass the time by playing with Lego Star Wars figures, obsessively checking out the soda machine in the waiting area, and watching the teenaged camp attendees come in from their outdoor activities. And when the fun of these pastimes is exhausted, Heath resorts to the old How much longer? I wanna go home stand-by.
Most recently, our dear Cali boys left after a two week adventure of pooling, playing, celebrating multiple birthdays, catching Cars 2 on opening day, and of course, mountaineering.
And while Heath patiently waits for his sister on Tuesday mornings, as of this week Stella finds herself in a familiar predicament while Heath has his soccer practice on Tuesday afternoon. Sure, she has more practice in watching Heath have all the fun, but she has grown less passive in the process. I was only able to take a few pictures of his first practice at a local park, because most of my time was spent keeping Stella out of the mix. Eventually she took solace in repeatedly racing across a neighboring baseball field.
Heath enjoyed the running, dribbling, and kicking drills, and even managed to keep an opponent from scoring in a very friendly first Lemon Team against Strawberry team scrimmage. Heath was a lemon. And if you ask him, the lemons won. Because they're better than the strawberries. And faster. And stronger. And did he mention better?
I encouraged some good sportsmanship by yammering on about always congratulating your opponent on a good game and the importance of recognizing their athletic abilities.
Yeah, he said, nodding his head enthusiastically, while I was feeling quite certain I had impressed upon him some excellent sense of being a good sport. And I kicked that ball right out from that strawberry and won the game.
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