Daphne

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Daphne Turns Nine

Nine.

Somehow, impossibly, beautifully… nine.

There is something about this age that feels different from the years before it. It feels like the beginning of becoming. Like watching someone slowly unfold into who they were always meant to be. It’s a weird thing to be a mom where you are so proud of their growth and the person they are, but also realizing you never get to be with this age again. There is mourning and celebration with each passing year.

This year asked a lot of you, Daphie girl.

A new school. New experiences. New teachers. New friendships. New expectations. The year was packed full of things that kept you busy.

And yet, you kept going.

You walked into unfamiliar places and kept trying anyway. You raised your hand for things that would have felt scary to many people. You qualified for two academic competitions, and it was amazing to see you shine in those moments even when I know it was out of your comfort zone. You tried basketball for the first time. You stretched yourself in ways that would have been easy to avoid. And even when you doubted yourself, you kept showing up.

That quiet courage is one of the things I admire most about you.

Sometimes I wonder if being sandwiched between two brothers who naturally take up so much space has caused you to shrink yourself a little smaller than you should. The world around you can be loud. Fast. Busy. Full of people talking over one another.

But there is something powerful about people who observe first. Who think deeply. Who notice details others miss.

That’s you.

You have one of the most creative minds I have ever seen. Your brain is constantly moving, imagining, creating, experimenting. There are science experiments scattered across your room, drawings on notebooks and scraps of paper and sometimes things that probably were not intended to be drawn on at all. You are always building something, imagining something, wondering something.

You are endlessly full of ideas.

And what I love most is how your mind works. You don’t just color outside the lines. Half the time you’re inventing an entirely different picture altogether. You see things differently, and I hope you never lose that. You are constantly teaching yourself new things whether it is the periodic table, random facts about space or penguins, how to shade in pencil drawings, or how to make your own slideshow in different apps.

This year I also watched you build your confidence in dance. There’s been something really special about seeing you settle into lyrical and tap, seeing moments where you stop overthinking and simply move. We really saw that come out when you did the stage show “High School Musical.” Those moments feel like little windows into who you really are underneath the uncertainty.

And I wish you could see what everyone else sees so clearly.

Because the truth is: there is so much greatness inside of you.

Not the loud kind. Not the kind that demands attention every time it enters a room. But the steady kind. The thoughtful kind. The creative kind. The kind that changes the people around it quietly and deeply.

You are constantly reading the room to fill in the holes. Whether that is something physical to brighten the room up, or emotionally telling when someone needs extra attention or care. You are the everlasting helper. Your empathy is one of my favorite qualities you have, and you are someone who is always making sure that those around you feel included and seen.

My biggest wish for you at nine is that you begin to believe in yourself the way the people who love you already do.

I hope you find your voice in all the noise.

I hope you learn that your thoughts are worth sharing, your ideas are worth hearing, and your presence is worth noticing.

And more than anything, I hope you continue leaning fully into the wonderfully out-of-the-box way you see the world. Because that part of you, the imaginative, curious, creative, beautifully kind part, is how you put your mark on this world.

The world does not need you to become more like everyone else.

It needs more of exactly who you already are.

Happy ninth birthday, sweet girl. I can’t wait to see what this year brings you.

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Coaching Her First Season

Basketball has always been my favorite sport. Growing up, I spent so much of my time in the gym as my dad coached at our high school so we were often around to see the game. Then I spent years on my own teams learning the positions and the ups and downs of the sport. Hearing the bounce of the ball, the squeak of shoes, the rhythm of the game, it was something I loved and brought me so much.

When Daphne signed up for her first season this year, a part of me was so excited for her to experience that joy too. But another part of me didn’t want her to feel like she had to love it just because it was mine. I wanted to share something I love without making it feel like an obligation. I didn’t want my passion to accidentally become pressure.

I had to find the balance between my own excitement and giving her the space to love the game in her own way. That meant reminding myself not to immediately point out what she could get better at and sometimes she just needed to hear, “That was awesome.”

Watching her try something new is always such a gift. Some days were beautiful and light where she smiled, she hustled, she had fun. Other days were harder. She saw other kids who were more confident, more skilled, more sure of themselves, and she compared herself to them. She wondered why they “never” passed to her. And as her coach (and her mom), that part was tough to watch.

But those moments became opportunities, not to correct her, but to encourage her. To help her see that trying something new isn’t about being perfect. It’s about showing up, challenging yourself, and learning as you go.

As a coach, it’s easy to see mechanics and missed opportunities. As a mom, I had to make sure to see her first. I had to practice pausing. I had to ask myself, “Is this about her growth or my expectations?”

I know from experience how early comparison creeps in. It is part of the reason I stopped playing after my sophomore year. How quickly kids can measure themselves against someone else’s strengths can be something. And I learned that my job wasn’t to eliminate that feeling, it was to help her build the resilience to move through it.

What made me the proudest wasn’t how she dribbled down the court or her stats, it was her heart.

She was always the first one down the court when possessions changed over. She hustled. She encouraged her teammates. Even on the tough days, the ones where she felt discouraged or compared herself, she came back the next practice ready to try again. She didn’t give up. She listened. She worked. She grew.

And watching her grow forced me to grow too.

I learned (again) that my role isn’t to smooth every hard moment for her. It’s to sit beside her in it. To remind her who she is when the scoreboard feels louder than her confidence. To model steadiness. To cheer effort. To let her story be hers.

She learned so much this season, about basketball, and about herself. She learned that hard things are worth trying, that effort counts, and that being a teammate is about more than making baskets.

And I learned (again) that success looks different when you’re a parent. It’s quieter. It’s deeper. It’s less about outcomes and more about character.

This might be the only season she and I do together. Right now she says she wants to come back, but we’ll see what the year brings. And that’s okay if not because this season was a dream in itself.

When I was in middle school, my dad coached my basketball team. (See below, I am number 6, and my dad is the tall one.) It was the only team that he was officially my coach, but he was always supportive of the sport he loved as well. I didn’t fully appreciate it then, but now I look back and see what a gift it was, the time, the encouragement, the belief he had in me. Standing on the sideline with Daphne this season, I finally understand that dream in a whole new way.

Maybe she’ll keep playing. Maybe her path will lead somewhere else. Either way, what we gained this season was so much more than wins or losses.

It was connection. It was courage. It was growth.

And if this was our only season together, it was awesome.

Daphne Year Eight
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Daphne Year Eight

This year Daphne has been insistent that she is going to space one day, and that she will be one of the first people to Mars. She is inquisitive about what it will take to get there, and from those details, she has created a plan. And if space doesn’t work she wants to be a Air Force pilot; and if that doesn’t work she will be an actress. It is precise and big, and entirely her.

Today is Daphne’s birthday. She is eight, and thinking about all the things. Another year older, a little taller, and somehow even more full of wonder than the year before.

She’s always been a big dreamer — the kind who sees possibilities in places most of us overlook. But here’s something else I deeply admire about her: she gets scared. She worries about trying new things. Whether it’s speaking up in class, learning to climb a rope, or joining a new activity like trying out for a musical— the fear is real. I see it in her eyes.

But then… she tries anyway.

And that’s what makes her brave. Not the absence of fear, but her choice to move forward in spite of it. Her dreams aren’t just floating ideas — they’re fuel. They carry her over the bumps, push her past the nerves, and inspire her to step into the unknown with wide eyes and a steady heart. Watching her dream and be determined to chase them is one of my favorite things.

As adults, we often fall into the trap of practicality. We trade wonder for what’s “realistic,” and over time, the dreams we once had quietly shrink. We have been talking a lot about dreams in our house, and I have to thank Daph for some of the reflection I have been doing lately. Watching her, especially today, reminds me how vital dreaming is — not just for children, but for all of us.

Dreaming gives us vision. It gives us hope. It sparks creativity, innovation, and joy. Daphne doesn’t yet know what’s impossible — and honestly, I hope she never fully believes anything is. Even when she is scared or doubts her ability, she still goes out on a limb and tries. She is shooting for the stars in so much of what she does. While her astronaut dreams may be cute memory in a decade, I hope she never loses this sense of dreaming and trying.

So this is a little birthday love letter to her — and to every child (and adult) who still dares to dream big. Let’s not quiet that voice. Let’s fan the flame. Let’s encourage curiosity, imagination, and the wild kind of belief that makes going to Mars feel absolutely possible.

Here’s to the dreamers — may we raise them, may we nurture them, and may we remember that we are them too.

Happy birthday to my BIG dreamer! Daphne, you are a wonder.

Daphne Year Seven
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Daphne Year Seven

This sweet girl of ours is turning seven today. As I look back on the last year, she has grown so much. I am so proud of who she is becoming.

In honor of year lucky seven, here are seven things I love about Daphne Christine.

She has an incredible ability to tune into other people’s needs. She is so observant to how people are feeling and their interests. She picks up so easily how to fill other people’s cup. Her kindness shines through how she cares for other people and making their day is her specialty. She really pays attention to make sure people feel seen and taken care of.

    She loves to learn. She is always asking questions and trying to piece together explanations. Her reading level has skyrocketed this year. We cannot keep enough books around her that she hasn’t read. And she loves sharing what she has learned. She is always sharing facts and stories of things she has picked up. And it is like a glow coming off her when she is soaking in or sharing information.

    Her imagination is magical. She can concoct these fantastical worlds around her in such great detail. She easily slips into play, and it is so fun to see her weave stories together. The creativity that pours out of her never ceases to amaze me.

    Her deep belly laughs are like medicine to your soul. She giggles with her whole body, and it warms my whole being to be in her joyful presence.

    Her attention to detail is unmatched. She has always been particular to even the smallest point. When she was little she use to make these maps that were so intricate. Now she does it as she creates different stations and organization in her room. She plans things out to the most miniscule detail with great thought and attention. And if you get her started talking about fairies or Pokemon, get ready for an insane amount of detail that you never knew existed.

    Her fierce love for her brothers is one of my favorite things about her. She corrals them with such tenacity. She is always wanting to keep up with George, and loves to dive into his interests to gain connection. And she is ever Wally’s protector and is the Wally whisperer. She is the perfect sister to them both. She can weave between their ages effortlessly and gives each of them what they need. She loves being a sister and will always be the bond that keeps this sibling trio in balance.

    Her determination and strong-will is unmatched. While she can be cautious to start new things, once she has her mind set she is unstoppable. She can hold fast like no one I have ever seen.

      She is my little mini-me, and I can’t wait to see how she moves through life. I pray every day that she leans into her kindness, strength, and positivity. My hope is that her journey is filled with joy, learning, and countless blessings. May she grow into a compassionate, resilient, and confident individual, shining bright with her unique gifts. Happy birthday my dearest daughter, and may this special day be filled with love, surprises, and obviously McDonald’s. Here’s to another year of growth, adventure, and beautiful memories ahead!

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      Daphne Year Six

      How are we here? Today my dearest daughter is six years old.

      SIX Years with this sweet Doodlebug.

      This year, I wanted to memorialize all the ways our family loves this girl, and then hear from her a few fun six year old thoughts.

      I asked everyone what their favorite thing to do with Daphne was:

      • George-I like playing games with her.
      • Wally-I play legos with Sissy.
      • Daddy-On my days off work, I love to pick her up on the days George has run club to go get ice cream and play at the park together.
      • Mommy-I love to go flower shopping with her and picking out our favorite colors.

      Here is what everyone said about their favorite trait of Daphne’s:

      • George-Everything she does makes me happy, but I love the faces she makes.
      • Wally-She shares.
      • Daddy-She loves her brothers so much. I never imagined having kids who love their siblings so much.
      • Mommy-I love how she fills others’ cups up. She is so intentional about paying attention to others’ interests and needs and tries to make people feel seen.

      Here is how Daphne feels now as the six year old.

      • Who is your favorite person in the world? Mommy
      • What is your favorite color? Magenta
      • What is your favorite T.V. show? My first favorite was Pokemon, then it switched to Abby Hatcher, then back to Pokemon. Now it is Spidey Friends.
      • What do you like to wear? Dresses
      • What is your favorite song? Meghan Trainor, Me Too
      • What is your favorite food? Pancakes
      • Who is your best friend? Harrison
      • What do you want to be when you grow up? A singer, I am good at singing.
      • What is your favorite book? The rhyming books (the phonic readers from Usborne)
      • What is something you are good at? Building Legos
      • Where do you want to go on vacation? Florida, I love it there.
      • What is your favorite memory? Summer School, I will always remember it.
      • Who is your hero? Daddy…my family actually.
      • What is your goal this year? Get better at cartwheels
      • What is your favorite part of school? Choice time with the little shapes.
      • What are you scared of? That things will fall and break on me, and the dark.
      • If you were an animal, what would you be? Allicorn
      • What is something you are thankful for? My family
      • What makes you happy when sad? Music and hugs
      • What is your favorite holiday? Christmas. No one’s birthday is a holiday, except for God and Grandma who have the same birthday.
      • What is the best thing about being a kid? You don’t have to go to work, and the worst is that you have to do what grown ups say.
      • What are you excited about being six? That I am going to be taller.

      Daphne is such a sweet young lady. She is so smart and kind. She has rocked kindergarten, loves going to school, and knows how to read well above her grade level. She is so observant. She feels her emotions fully, and she interprets others feelings just as deeply. She likes to warm up to new things, but I am so proud of her bravery for trying new things this year even though she is scared. She is one of those people that just warms your heart by just being in her presence.

      She really is amazingly lovely.