life lessons.

Well, it happened.

It was only a matter of time…

but it happened.

A kid in Hadley's gymnastics class told her she was 'the worst one.'

And she's right…

but that's besides the point.

So, when Hadley told me after gymnastics, one sunny Tuesday afternoon, that Ava said she was the 'worst one in class', I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.  And Hadley looked like her little world had been a little shaken.

So I said, 'well that's insane!  What did you say back?'

Hads:  'I told her I am definitely not the worst one.  I told her that was a really mean thing to say.  And then I told the teacher'.

Me:  'What did Miss Kara say (Miss Kara who is all of 17 or 18 years old)?' 

Hads:  'Miss Kara said that I am not the worst one either, and let me do the trampoline three more times just to prove it.'

Me:  'So did you prove it?'

Hads:  'Well no, because I didn't need to prove it, because I am not the worst one.'

I loved that.

But, I hated the fact that my little gal is growing up, even though she's only seven, and I hate that this is part of life, and I hate that I was probably that kid.

Then we took advantage of this little opportunity and had a heart to heart about how it makes people feel when you say mean things to them, and that they're just kids and everyones learning, and that some things you're just better at and some things other people are better at.  But it all evens out in the end.  And we hugged, kissed, and high fived.

And then I told her if Ava ever said anything like that to her again she was getting curb stomped.

well i'll be darned.

Smart sure looks good on him.

So does quiet.

So does sitting still.

easter.

Easter morning.

Hadley was as excited as if it were Christmas morning.

And she got her brother equally pumped.

The gal lurves herself a holiday.

Especially a holiday involving candy and presents.

Which is pretty much all of them.

And after breakfast…we were off to see Uncle Easter Bunny.

A tradition.

A tradition that has brought tears to our holiday loving gal each year.

Now that she's seven, I told her it was time to toughen up, time to ditch the tears, time to trust the bunny…I also told her if she cried I was taking her easter basket away.

It worked.

There actually wasn't a tear in the whole bunch.

Record setting year.

Too many Cadbury eggs.

making eggs.

I hate these types of projects.

But Hadley loves them.

And I love Hadley.

(the sacrifices I make).

Oh, and the ones with the shrink wrap plastic…

they are my enemy.

cruz bishop.

Me:  "Heath, I feel like I barely even know Cruz."

Heath:  "Nobody knows him.  He's my little secret."

And I don't blame her.

I would keep him all to myself too.

A huge thank you to the Conniff's for continuing to have children so I can get my baby fix.

Better you than us.

Can you have one more around the time of his second birthday?

I mean once you have three, what's one more?

Ready.  Set.  Go.

have teeth. will brush.

I use to have to pin him down to brush those pearly whites.

Now I only have to threaten to throw away all of his Legos.

The boy is growing up.

the gymnast.

My niece Lauren is quite the athlete.

And she's quite the gymnast.

And she had a little meet (or a 'show', as she called it, so she wouldn't be nervous).

And she was awesome.

And as proud as I was of her while she was performing on the beam, the uneven bars, the vault, and nailing her floor routine (big, huge, barely able to see through my camera lens, tears), I have never been prouder than when she politely and noticeably nudged (slightly pushed) her way up to the top of the podium so she was the only one standing in the winners spot.

That's the difference between mediocrity and excellence…that extra 'push'.

And she's got it.

And she's a pretty big deal

And I am pretty darn proud of her.