Teen

Unstoppable

Posted on by Lauren

Don’t doubt me. 

Don’t you for a second Count. Me. Out. 

You only fuel my drive to prove you wrong. 

So lives the soul of my second daughter. 

Walking at 11 months, this child has been intent on besting her big sister from the start.

She has had something to prove since she was born.

She puts in the work and shames those who don’t. 

Harper has a drive I, her mother, envy. 

She wants it bad and she will do whatever it takes. 

Cautiously, I calm her intensity. 

Reminding her that she has an entire life, she cannot imagine, ahead of her. 

Yes, you can. 

No, you don’t HAVE to. 

You can, but you don’t HAVE to in order to survive. 

If you want it bad enough, there’s no doubt: its yours to claim. 

But never to prove anyone else. 

Only for yourself. 

You are unstoppable. 

LOUD

Posted on by Lauren

“Be quiet!” 

“Shhh, you’ll wake the baby.” 

We grow up with family. 

We mature in school.

We share rooms and apartments with college friends. 

Then a home with our children. 

How often are we ever alone?

And what do we do when we are?

I wonder, what if we live a LOUD life?

Unafraid of our noise disturbing others. 

How do we teach our students to be quiet in the classroom

But LOUD in life?

Camille Vaughan Photography

Matter

Posted on by Lauren

I am not a winning Coach.

The loss this weekend shattered me when, with good intention, my husband commented of the other team, “They were coached well.” 

They were. It was the God’s-to-honest truth. 

Their coach was intentional, level-minded and strategic. 

His girls performed to his expectations without much fanfare. 

Meanwhile, I’m looking my worst player in her eyes and telling her I see her. 

I see her insecurities, worry and anxiety. 

I know she doesn’t feel good enough and at the end of the day, I want her to feel, she’s more than good-enough. She’s her best. 

It’s me. 

I see me. 

I was never good enough and all I ever wanted was for someone to tell me I was.

I am not a winning coach. 

But to someone, I matter. 

They matter.

Listen

Posted on by Lauren

“You’re not LISTENING to me!” she exclaimed. 

The light switch went off. 

I remember feeling that way, too, when I was her age. 

Misunderstood.

Her father and I reviewed our game plan and saw no error. 

And yet, that’s the funny thing about plans. 

They’re just that. 

Plans. 

We had good intentions. 

But so is the path to hell. 

I showed my hands. 

“Ok.”  I said. 

“Really?” she replied, in disbelief. 

“Yea. We’re just here to support you.” 

And maybe that’s all we ever need to hear. 

Camille Vaughan Photography