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Where the sound of babyfeet are heard at this here blog
Today we have Kim of Baby Feet, who graced this here blog last year. If you don’t know Kim, you really should – her writing is a constant reminder that sometimes things might be perfect, but, more often than not, they’re far away from perfection. Alas, lack of perfection doesn’t matter – as long as you’re looking to do the best for yourself & your loved ones . . . and, just maybe, are willing to cry or laugh through the adventure.
Thank you, Kim, for sharing a bit of yourself here
I can’t remember when I started reading John’s blog – but I do know it was back when it was named something like, “John’s Get Healthy Plan.” I fell in love with him and his family – for obvious reasons (uhm, they’re awesome. You all know this, right?). And his commitment to running encouraged me to run my first 5k. I’m not going to lie, when he asked me if I’d guest post I got all teary eyed because I think so much of him and his blog. So, John, thank you very much for letting me inhabit your amazing corner of the web for a few moments – you rock.
I spent July 5 at the beach, watching my kids play in the waves and build lopsided sand castles.
I watched them run screaming into the ocean as fast as their tanned, strong, perfectly muscled legs could take them.
I watched my children play together as a unit. Watching out for and encouraging each other. I watched it all with a huge smile on my face.
I watched Sarah excel at body surfing, watched this totally anger Violet and then spur her to try harder. I watched John go from playing in the wet sand to throwing himself in the waves in his own personal attempt at body surfing.
And I was so proud. They were perfect, these children of mine. All strong limbs and wide toothy grins, tan lines and salty hair.
Then John refused to drink any water in the 98* heat. And had a nice little tantrum in front of the entire beach.
And Violet refused to wear goggles so she kept yelling about the salt water in her eyes.
And Sarah grunted and whined when it was time to go.
So yes, my children are perfect. Perfectly mine.