Pure love

We used to live on Love Lane in a tennis community. I hated saying that I lived on Love Lane. I tried to refer to it as 3300 North but the Post Office wouldn't go for that. I always felt like I had to explain love, as in a tennis community. But then I would reference the other streets to try to make sense of it all and Backhand Court just sounds like domestic violence. But I love tennis. Even though it means I am behind in the set, my favorite score to call out is Love-1, Love All. Get it? Love one, love all. Tennis is for sure a celestial sport. We have been playing doubles with Nana and Papa lately and the babies play in the park next to us. And then they charge the court and demand, "Feed me!" And I ask forehand or backhand? And they choose and set up and hit most of the feeds. When they miss it can usually be blamed on the feeder. Then they pick up all the balls and we go for the next round. 

Tonight we were at the yellow park and the babies were ecstatic when the gentlemen playing hit a ball over the fence so they could run it down and return it to the players. We got out some of our balls and Evelyn was throwing some around and asked me in complete earnest,"Mama, is it okay if I throw these and they get stuck in the clouds?" 

Love, love, love that girl. I think I am so happy because I feel so fulfilled being a mother. No doubt, it is an endurance sport and it is painful lots of times and taxing but I love those magical moments when babies say something amazing. I feel like a good person and a good mother providing awesome experiences for short people practicing how to be humans. Families rock. Thanks for sharing the parenting experience with us, Heavenly Father. It is humbling and inspiring and challenging and awesome.