McKenzie has been doing volleyball this year. Club volleyball, to be specific, which is different than school volleyball, or rec volleyball, and while we're on the topic of there being many different kinds of volleyball teams out there, I'm feeling pretty proud of myself for increasing my fluency level in the language of sports lately.
I didn't do sports growing up... unless you count a season of tap dancing when I was six. Or my two years of track and field in high school. But I don't count either of those because the former was really more about the excitement of owning a pair of tap shoes, and the latter was all about trying to get out of having to run during practice. So, clearly, I missed the point of both of them.
But McKenzie is doing sports. And after a few trial and error sports, volleyball has hit and sunk into her heart. She loves it. And I love it for her.
She found it late in life, if you're going by the timeline of childhood sports, and came to me just two days before the high school tryouts last year to say, "Mom, I think I want to try out for the high school volleyball team."
I tried not to act surprised, but my eyebrows betrayed me by shooting way up into my hairline. "Oh!" I replied. And then, recovering from the fact that I'd never even seen her hit a volleyball before I continued, "Well that's cool. Do you know the rules?"
"No," she said. "But Kaitlyn does, so maybe I could go over to her house tomorrow to learn."
I've learned through the years that I need not be apprehensive when my kids want to try something new, so I gave her two thumbs up and a month later was cheering in the stands for her as she played for the freshman team of her high school. She was a natural and shortly earned herself a starting position for the front line. And after the school season was over, it became clear to me that we had found something special. She loves the game. She loves playing, she loves being on a team, she loves competing, she loves practicing... and I knew that if she wanted to continue on in this (which she does) we'd need to get her some real experience so she could catch up to the other girls her age who had been playing for years.
Enter, club volleyball. She tried out for several teams, and ended up making it onto one of them from the wait list. We were so proud of her!
Part of the club volleyball gig is that we get to travel to a few tournaments. And Arizona was first on the list. We left the boys home with friends and took the little lady along with us.
And a few of her closest friends.
Baby has been Eliza's sidekick ever since Christmas, and Lion and Monkey (we're really good at creative names over here as you now know) are currently close seconds. But as much as she loves her friends, they can't compete with a phone when there are pictures of herself all over the screen
I think she knows how cute she is.
Brian and Eliza were only able to stay for one of the three nights because church responsibilities called Brian back home for Sunday and he (and Carson) were kind enough to make the rest of the schedules work so that Eliza could go home too. As much as she loves staying confined in a giant gymnasium when there are a hundred volleyball games going on around her...
Right. So.
They left on Saturday after McKenzie's day of games and I stayed up way too late that night searching for some Ben and Jerry's and binge watching America's Got Talent. I know how to party y'all.
So when my alarm went off on Sunday morning, I should have jumped out of bed to get to McKenzie's hotel because the plan was that I was going to meet her there to take her with me for the day (it being the Sabbath and her keeping it holy), but instead, I snoozed it and woke up in a panic 5 minutes before I was supposed to be there. I jumped out of bed, put on my sweats and flip flops, poured water on my bedhead and flew out the door without even putting on a bra or brushing my teeth.
So, you can imagine the state of me when I got to the car and realized I had left the runner lights on all night long and that the battery was dead. D.e.a.d. Deeeeeeaaaaaaaaad. Not even a click.
I had to approach people in the parking lot with frog breath. And then I had to go inside and bug people in the lobby. And then I had to plead with the front desk for help...
Turns out that most people who are staying in a hotel don't pack jumper cables to stow in their rental cars, so it took a surprisingly long time to to find someone who was able and willing to help. Bless that kind hotel worker who had a million other things to do that morning but who spent the better part of an hour helping me get on my way. It took two cars and what seemed to me to be a rather intensive seek and find for the keys to the hotel van (which was eventually the only vehicle that could jump the curb in order to get into the proper position to be helpful). I was insanely grateful to him, and also apologetic to McKenzie's coaches who were a bit inconvenienced since I met McKenzie an hour and a half after I was supposed to. Still looking like I had just woken up.
Once back in the hotel lobby with McKenzie in tow, I realized that my hotel room key had not made the journey with me out of the room, so I had to - yet again - approach the front desk.
"Um, I'm sorry," I began. "I'm having a bit of a rough morning, apparently, and I locked my room key inside the room..."
The girl at the desk looked up at me and suppressed a laugh. "Wow," she said, "you really are having a rough morning. I'll print you another one. Did you get your car situation figured out?"
Kind of her to ask.
I took the room key in hand and minutes later tried to use it to pay for my breakfast, thinking it was my credit card. By this time, McKenzie was in hysterics, thankfully finding the whole thing humorous instead of humiliating, and when I finally put my key away in the perfect little pocket in my purse, I slid it down alongside my other room key.
Clearly, I had not forgotten it after all.
McKenzie's laughter was uncontrollable.
Thankfully the day turned around when I was finally able to brush my teeth, put a bra on and go to church.
Sunday night I made sure to go to bed much earlier.
Monday morning, McKenzie's tournament ended earlier than we were hoping (because they lost), and we decided that we weren't really ready to drive all the way home yet. So we looked up a local movie theater and killed some time in the parking lot with a picture scavenger hunt we created ourselves.
Take a picture with a handicapped sign:
Right. So.
They left on Saturday after McKenzie's day of games and I stayed up way too late that night searching for some Ben and Jerry's and binge watching America's Got Talent. I know how to party y'all.
So when my alarm went off on Sunday morning, I should have jumped out of bed to get to McKenzie's hotel because the plan was that I was going to meet her there to take her with me for the day (it being the Sabbath and her keeping it holy), but instead, I snoozed it and woke up in a panic 5 minutes before I was supposed to be there. I jumped out of bed, put on my sweats and flip flops, poured water on my bedhead and flew out the door without even putting on a bra or brushing my teeth.
So, you can imagine the state of me when I got to the car and realized I had left the runner lights on all night long and that the battery was dead. D.e.a.d. Deeeeeeaaaaaaaaad. Not even a click.
I had to approach people in the parking lot with frog breath. And then I had to go inside and bug people in the lobby. And then I had to plead with the front desk for help...
Turns out that most people who are staying in a hotel don't pack jumper cables to stow in their rental cars, so it took a surprisingly long time to to find someone who was able and willing to help. Bless that kind hotel worker who had a million other things to do that morning but who spent the better part of an hour helping me get on my way. It took two cars and what seemed to me to be a rather intensive seek and find for the keys to the hotel van (which was eventually the only vehicle that could jump the curb in order to get into the proper position to be helpful). I was insanely grateful to him, and also apologetic to McKenzie's coaches who were a bit inconvenienced since I met McKenzie an hour and a half after I was supposed to. Still looking like I had just woken up.
Once back in the hotel lobby with McKenzie in tow, I realized that my hotel room key had not made the journey with me out of the room, so I had to - yet again - approach the front desk.
"Um, I'm sorry," I began. "I'm having a bit of a rough morning, apparently, and I locked my room key inside the room..."
The girl at the desk looked up at me and suppressed a laugh. "Wow," she said, "you really are having a rough morning. I'll print you another one. Did you get your car situation figured out?"
Kind of her to ask.
I took the room key in hand and minutes later tried to use it to pay for my breakfast, thinking it was my credit card. By this time, McKenzie was in hysterics, thankfully finding the whole thing humorous instead of humiliating, and when I finally put my key away in the perfect little pocket in my purse, I slid it down alongside my other room key.
Clearly, I had not forgotten it after all.
McKenzie's laughter was uncontrollable.
Thankfully the day turned around when I was finally able to brush my teeth, put a bra on and go to church.
Sunday night I made sure to go to bed much earlier.
Monday morning, McKenzie's tournament ended earlier than we were hoping (because they lost), and we decided that we weren't really ready to drive all the way home yet. So we looked up a local movie theater and killed some time in the parking lot with a picture scavenger hunt we created ourselves.
Take a picture with a handicapped sign:
Of something symmetrical:
Of rocks:
Of you with a solid colored background:
You, upside down:
At the end of a line:
In a corner:
And, finally, in the theater, about to watch the movie:
I'm proud of this girl and all that she stands for. And I absolutely love spending time with her.
Thank you for making me laugh! I'm sorry about your rough hotel stay. And that's great that Kenz has found her "thing"! I'm still trying to help my kids find theirs.
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