Pride

She scored a podium finish at her first short course swim meet. I'm proud of her. Not for her performance in the event itself, but to see her rewarded for persistence and training. She spent many years in swim lessons working on stroke mechanics. She swam long course over the summer, building up her endurance and perfecting her technique to avoid disqualification. Since starting short course earlier this month, she's spent more time in the pool doing both sprint and endurance training. There's no doubt that running cross country, playing soccer and taking dance lessons have helped with her athleticism (I'll not call it physicality or explosiveness) in the pool. But in 6 months training, she's gone from never having swum competitively to a podium finish. The pride I feel in her isn't in her finish, as much as it is in the strong start to her journey.

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

She's developed an eye for vintage, quirky signs from watching American Pickers.

And, in the process, she's found a way to clutter her bedroom walls as she has the floor.

11 Is Not the New 8

She's a much different person today than she was just 3 years ago.

I can't pick her up as easily. I certainly can't throw her as far in the lake, or flip her while holding her by her arms.

Clothing holds her attention now. American Girl dolls don't.

She's less interested in Bugs Bunny and more interested in The Simpsons.

In her extra-curriculars, the gap between kids who are "casual" versus "committed" participants is blatant.

Interaction ("help me do this, daddy") gave way to observation ("watch me do this, daddy"), which has given way to awareness ("I'll be with my friends, dad").

Of course, I should expect nothing less. She's much closer to being a teenager than she was last an infant. It wasn't dramatic or sudden, and not everything about her has changed. Nor am I the same person I was just a few years ago. Plus, our relationship has to change if we're to stay interesting to each other, and not merely dependent and obliged to one another. And I'm looking forward to the next voyage of discovery, and curious to know who she'll become.

Still, I can't help but miss that little person I got to know.

Location, location, location

As a newborn, I carried her in my arms.

As an infant, I held her hand.

As a child, we walked side-by-side.

As a pre-teen, I have no idea where she is at any given moment.

Redshirt

In a few years, "redshirt" will apply to freshman athletes at the school she goes to.

But for now, after watching enough Star Trek TOS reruns, "redshirt" means a person for whom tomorrow may not come.

...and another generational bridge is built.

Unintended Lessons

I expected her first swim meet would be a learning experience for her: how it all works, where to find your results, getting a taste for competition, and above all else making sure not to miss an event.

But her biggest learning experience? How to function at a swim meet at 8a after staying up until 2a at a friend's slumber party. That will come in handy throughout her life.

All For One

Her final swim lesson was the same as all of her other lessons. Streamlined kicks. Freestyle laps. One-armed backstroke. An IM. And dad on the sidelines giving her signals (kick! big arms! reach!) and smiles (jazz hands! thumbs up!)

It was like all the other lessons, but for the fact that it was her final swim lesson. She needs to move on to a team - endurance and meets - to develop further.

It is time. For both of us.