Friday, May 28, 2010


Is there anything more spectacular than spending the early evening on the floor watching the Lakers in the Western Conference Finals with the two most adorable little girls in the world climbing all over you? If you can find something that compares I'd love to know, and then argue with you that you are wrong. Dead wrong. Because there is nothing better. Growing up my father was a huuuuuggee basketball fan. He watched every Laker game, post season or summer league. But my dad was also a crazy person. Screaming at the TV as though the coaches had a two way and were seriously taking his suggestions into the huddle. I actually remember a neighbor calling the cops on us. Not because the TV volume but because my dad was screaming so loudly they were convinced it was a domestic violence situation. I'm not at all like my dad when it comes to sports spectating, and the rule in our house is we only watch playoff sports - cause let's face, there's a lot more to life then watching a game live. And as far as "passion" in watching. ... we never watched games with my dad. It was too tense, too terrifying. And I think he missed out. There is something so incredible about having your kids near to you. And when you're watching a game you're stationary - so much of the time we're running around like mad trying to fix dinner or wash clothes or clean up some unidentifiable mark on the floor - and being still allows the girls to implement your body into their exploration. They pull on your arm or prop themselves up on your leg. Genevieve lays back onto your lap, Arianna leans against your side, each constantly glancing up at you as if to make sure you've not left and then flashing you a big grin as if to say "thanks". It's moving. ... I don't know if I can describe it any better. It seems like such a simple scene, but the subtext is amazing. It's truly joyous. ... despite what ever outcome the game might bring.

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