Then, when she wanted to sit in the lodge and warm up, I didn't leave her to go ski by myself, I stayed to keep her company and listen to her stories. That was fine. I'll ski a billion more times in my life, but my little girl will not be little forever.
Last Wednesday we all went to dinner at the fanciest yacht club I've ever been to. The St. Francis along the San Francisco city front with views to die for is where my youngest daughter goes for sailing lessons. They've got a wonderful program to get kids into sailing in a very fun way. My youngest likes it there. After sailing, she likes to go to the locker room for a steam. How cute is that?
The yacht club had a youth sailing dinner to honor the junior sailors in their program. Because my youngest was in their program, she was invited and the rest of the family went as her guests, since we do not belong to that club. We ate very bland pasta and my kids ate nothing, as usual, since they're incredibly picky eaters, but otherwise, the night was very enjoyable.
As we're listening to all the winners called up to the podium for recognition, we were overjoyed to hear our youngest daughter's name called up for Most Improved Sailor in the fall program. The look of pride on her face brought me near to tears. Really. Tears were just on the verge of coming down.
What meant so much to me was just seeing my little baby shine. It was such a pleasure to see her reluctantly get into something and do well enough at it to gain recognition. To see her beam with happiness for her own accomplishment was payback enough for anytime I gave my last bite of dessert to one of my kids, or to take off my sweater so one of them wouldn't be cold. Or forgo time on the slopes on the last day of skiing so that I could keep one of them company. I couldn't be any prouder. And not proud of the award, but proud of her.