Arrow

Kahlil Gibran says of parents, "You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth." And, I mean, yes. Yes, of course. But I guess it never occurred to me that he meant it quite literally, too.

This weekend the child was off and moving so fast that he was more blur than person.

First, on Friday, we had his Tae Kwon Do belt test (orange to green), where he broke two planks of wood with his elbow. With. His. Elbow. (Here he's with his Baba after the test.)

Then we dragged our asses out of bed on Saturday morning in order to be at his last football game of the season by 8:30.

He decided to use the opportunity to show everyone what his jukes look like.

Then he got a trophy & a cupcake. So, good morning overall.

After a quick trip to Target for some Dodgers gear because we are THOSE parents (Note to future Dash: you will inevitably have moments of frustration with your dad. You will occasionally feel misunderstood & under-appreciated by him. In those moments, just remember this: The man put on a Dodgers hat for you. There is no greater love than that.), we headed to yet another park for his first game of coach pitch baseball.

Where the cuteness didn't let up for even a second.

(GIRLS WITH PIGTAIL BRAIDS PLAYING BASEBALL I AM DEAD FROM THIS!)

And he continued to prove that Josh's genes are more powerful than mine by swinging at balls rather than flinching away from them.