Sporty Girl

My little C has always taken herself so seriously. She is so passionate. Her eyes flash anger as quickly as they brighten with laughter. As a baby, she didn't give her glorious, illuminating smile away to just anyone. She was highly selective of whom she allowed to enter her world, but once someone was allowed in, she practially smothered with affection and fierce loyalty.

From a young age, C has demonstrated natural athletic ability, especially sports of the hand/eye coordination variety. She has also expressed an interest in being involved in recreational activities other than swim team, so she plays soccer in the fall and this year has added softball. Because she is so physical, people have, in all innocence and good intentions, called her a tomboy. This is a misnomer. C loves lacquered nails, high heels, purses, make-up, jewelry, elaborate and ornate girly things. She just also happens to not give a rip about her clothes and prefers jeans to chinos, denim skirts to dresses, and shorts to anything else. The easier the shoes come off, the happier she is. She cares not for dusty toes, dirty hands, and smudged cheeks. The fact that the seat of her cutoffs is coated with a mixture of grass stains, today's lunch, chalk dust, and something completely unidentifiable doesn't faze her a bit. The second time someone called her a tomboy, we got proactive and came up with something better: Sporty Girl.

She was the best goalie on her soccer team last year. During a game, she was focused, but could also laugh with a teammate in a lighter moment. However, if she missed a ball, it took everything we had to help her remember the six others she had blocked. When she plays piano, it must be a perfect execution of the piece or she sees herself as a complete failure. In swimming for the Summer Games or in her league conference she must be first or she kicks herself all the way to the locker room. She cannot see improvement of times and places from the previous year or even meet as accomplishments. She lives very much in the moment and quickly forgets what isn't right before her eyes.

This morning during an individual piano competition C played two pieces that she has worked hard to master. She made one mistake in the first, and none in the second. After playing, she bowed and stomped over to the seat next to me. I made a very small and discreet attempt to let her know she played very well, but she sensed it was coming and moved to the next chair over. After all the other students had completed their performances, the judges handed each child a certificate. C received the highest score and rating a child can receive. Still, she wasn't pleased with her playing.

The drive home gave her ample brooding time. It didn't take long for the dark clouds to pass. As soon as we were home, the required accoutrements discarded to the laundry basket, jeans and t-shirt donned and appropriately decorated with snack material, the mistakes were forgotten.

To impart to her to be prepared; to do her best; to be humble in accepting help; to be honest in evaluating her effort and to accept the outcome, not with smugness or complacency, but with the satisfaction that comes from hard work and playing hard, this is our challenge in rearing our strong, smart, talented, lovely, loyal, impetuous C.