Brooke loves to drive it off the tee! Before playing, she always puts on “sunscreen and stretches. During the round she drinks plenty of water and has a healthy snack, like an apple. When she’s not on the golf course, Brooke enjoys volunteering at the local animal shelter and hiking.”
My recent post about my daughter’s decision to NOT ask for Monster High dolls for Christmas sparked an online conversation with the makers of Go! Go! Sports Girls–a line of dolls developed to deliver a fun and educational way to promote self-appreciation and the benefits of daily exercise, healthy eating and sleeping habits, self-esteem and overall healthy life-skills for girls ages 3-12. Because of my interest and advocacy for healthy media images for girls, the Dream Big …
Blustery. It’s about the only word to describe the weather this morning. And it’s one of my dad’s favorite kinds of weather. Gray skies, crisp temperatures…perfect for driving the dirt roads and capturing raw Kansas beauty. Despite the teeth-rattling winds, we headed out this morning, Sony CyberShots in hand, and completely enjoyed a dad-daughter photo outing. My dad is no stranger to the lens, having served as Navy photographer back in the 60s, and then as a (mainly) commercial photographer for years after that. I spent many an afternoon with him in our at-home darkroom, waiting patiently for the magical images to appear on the page. If I close my eyes and focus, I can still smell the chemicals and hear the paper being swished in the pan.
His heart is strong.
His hands are rough.
When it comes to his girls,
he gives more than enough.
He can build with timber.
He can build with blocks.
When his girls need love,
his heart he unlocks.
If it’s broken, he fixes.
If it’s damaged, he mends.
His girls are his world.
His love knows no end.
Happy Father’s Day My Love!
Today, I took my daughter fishing. For the first time in her short three years on earth, she threw a line into the water, and watched with giddy anticipation as the bobber floated and danced. While I realize a child’s first fishing trip is usually a right of passage reserved for fathers or grandfathers, I felt it was my motherly duty to take her down to the creek.
After all, I’d like fishing to be “our” thing. Something for the girls, an opportunity to bond over waiting and watching. While we may enjoy side by side mani-pedis someday (that sounds pretty good about now), I’d like our quality time to have, well, a little more quality. She’ll learn patience, persistence and most importantly, how to be stronger woman than her mother. …
She is sunlight streaming through glistening Cottonwood leaves.
She is the tinkle of wind chimes on a summer evening.
She is a tepid breeze that lifts the hair off your neck.
She is the sweet smell of sun-warmed yellow roses.
She is my daughter.
Believe it or not, this is actually a prayer I’ve offered for my daughters. Strange? Maybe. Genius? Definitely.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish for them to be permanently awkward (although I would love them no less). Rather, one of my greatest hopes for them is to suffer through a few awkward years, and survive. The key word there is survive. I don’t want them to be scarred, or cope with their awkwardness through immoral, illegal, or otherwise dangerous behavior.
Let’s face it, life is easier for pretty people. Right or wrong, those with symmetrical faces, straight teeth and lustrous hair seem to sail through life a bit more easily. Studies have even proven that …