The True Vyne

If you could see her now. She's tucked the spotted stuffed bunny her dear friend Anna gave her and puffy pink Olivia from her sweet friends Leesa and El under one tiny little arm. Her other hand cradles her perfect little girl face. She's snuggled and completely zonked under the rosy quilt on my bed, at least until daddy gets home and moves her to her own little pink palace.

Precious. A pearl. Glorious. My little girly.

It was Pooh Bear's very first soccer practice ever this evening, and she's plum tuckered out. She had to wear the entire game day outfit even though game day is next Saturday. It took her half an hour to get dressed. The shorts, the smallest AYSO has to offer, are far and away too large, so we gathered the waist to half it's size with a draw string. It took two tries to get the neon orange socks as long as the Amazon River to fit just right in her new pink soccer shoes. The shin guards velcroed around and met at the back of skinny her calves. I stood amazed at practice as she jumped at every command of her terrific coaches like the best dog in obedience school.
Pooh Bear shares the team with another splendid tough girl and some very aggressive real little boys, but she's hanging right in there. Personally, I'm not sure how I'd handle four pint sized monsters stomping around my legs, but she plowed her own way through the mob like the boy in Where the Wild Things Are.

There's probably nothing much more humorous or spellbinding than a hive of familiar five year olds buzzing around a ball.

I can go to bed now. I've documented another first on my blog for her. I get a hint of melancholy realizing she's my last chance at firsts. Time's a swirling away and I'm running after his old coat tails...