On Saturday, Zoe's volleyball team played in their first tournament. It was a varsity tournament, but Zoe's team did not have their varsity players there. In fact, their entire team was made up of junior varsity girls, and they did awesome! They went undefeated until the semi-finals, where they lost one game out of three. In the end, they won second place, and although they were disappointed, they were all shocked that they had actually gotten that far.
I was particularly proud of Baby Girl. She is so confident on the court, and I marvel at how calm and level-headed she remains even when things are not going well for her team. She was playing against girls three years older and at least a foot taller, but that didn't intimidate her. She went out on that court and got to work. I was most impressed with the fact that even though Zoe can not do an overhand serve yet, her coaches still encouraged her to try in the game, and she would stand there fearlessly and give it her best shot. She is so close, and I know it won't be long before she is sending that ball clear over the net.
While Mr. Level-Headed and I were cheering the team on, I kept leaning over to him and saying how proud I am of our girl and how thrilled I am that she is playing high school sports. Even though she is knee deep in the trenches of teenage-hood and all the drama that surrounds that most difficult time in a person's life, she has managed to remain focused and firmly attached to who she is and what she wants. Sheesh . . . it took me a good thirty years to get to that point. What a kid!
But it wasn't until later that night, after Zoe returned home from a babysitting gig and was safely tucked in her bed, that the full magnitude of the day hit me. This was the first sporting event that Zoe has played in since she became sick last fall, and it was only three months ago that she was spending up to four hours a day receiving medicine intravenously. She was too weak to go to school or to play sports. She spent day after day watching television on the laptop and napping. I remember watching her play last fall during the soccer season and only noticing how weak she was becoming and fearing that she may be pushing herself too hard. She could only take quick spurts out on the field, and spent the majority of the time sitting on the bench feeling frustrated and disappointed. It broke my heart.
On Saturday, however, that sick girl was no where in sight, and like I said before, the thought never even crossed my mind. She played hard, she hit hard, and she laughed hard. Baby Girl is back and she is on fire!
Don't you love the socks! Her mama found those in Portland.
Unfortunately, none of my action shots turned out. :(
Here they are clapping for the winning team. They look so impressed . . . tee hee!