Dork

In one of those Dorky Mom moments, I headed over to the middle school with the camera during afternoon athletics practice. The track was dotted with 7th and 8th grade runners, but my attention was drawn to the protective cage set out in a field between the tennis courts and the track. There a familiar gray and blue dot with windblown hair was throwing a speck. Having just missed KT's throw, I discovered the camera had no memory card. Ugh.
Back at the house, I quickly popped the card out of the computer and into the slot in the camera before racing back over to the school. Sure enough, the second arrival coincided with KT's turn again. As the lens focused on her, I heard, "Oh! That's my Mom! I can't throw with my Mom watching--- and she has the camera!" Yeah, yeah. Whatever. She did throw, but the Mom Factor was distracting, and it was not a great result. She cringed, went to see what the throw measured, and slunk back into line hiding behind a friend.
The coach had no such qualms with an audience. He called out offering a better vantage point from which to grossly embarrass photograph the soon-to-be teen during discus practice. Ever obliging, I walked over to snap shots from the closer location. KT swung her arm back while twisting her body and loosening her shoulder before swinging around to release the wooden disc. The disc, in response, went gliding across the field for a new best distance topping 60 feet to qualify for the third (and final) available slot on the team headed for the district meet.
And.I.was.there. Better. I caught her throwing in a vaguely blurred image. It was SOOOOO worth being the Dorky Mom. Even more worth it was seeing her smile when the coach gave her the news about the district meet, and having the opportunity to celebrate her achievement in the moment.