But look at these pictures, taken several years ago...I don't even recall how old she was here. Probably 5. You'll see why I had my doubts:
But over the years, she worked her tail off. She cheered every single year. She was blessed with amazing coaches as well as a very supportive family. I can't begin to count the amount of hours spent by her grandparents, aunts, and us (sometimes sweating, sometimes freezing, but always waiting on games running at least an hour behind) at the ball fields watching her cheer her little uncoordinated heart out. She was always proud. She was always confident. She was never aware just how adorably terrible she was. She learned the techniques of her passion. Never giving up.
Thursday was THE DAY. The day that we had been waiting 6 long years for. Middle school cheer leading tryouts. She came out of tryouts feeling great about what she had done. She told me she couldn't have done any better. I assured her that even if she didn't make the squad, it was okay. Because you can't do any better than your best. So we came home to wait the 3 longest hours of our lives before results were posted. She asked us to wait in the van as she nervously went to read the names posted on door. I stood anxiously waiting. And she turned to me. She ran as fast as her feet would take her, yet they never hit the ground. My sweet girl leaped into my arms and sobbed. I put her down. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, "I did it".
Of course you did, baby. Because you said you would.