Saturday, September 10, 2011

First Tennis Lesson

I woke up to gloom and thunder which made me ridiculously giddy this morning. After having a couple of pretty stinking hot days I was especially happy to get a taste of fall! The gloom ended up burning off around lunch time. Oh well!
I'm crazy about this little guy!!!
My mom reading some Dr. Seuss (one of their favorite authors of course) to the girls.
Check out the look on HQ's face. She gets very into the story!
Izzy was very excited about her tennis lesson today. She actually wanted to wear he tennis outfit to bed last night. She settled for being able to put it on early today.

Ready for tennis lessons!

She was bummed she couldn't fit into the car. Especially since it matched her outfit.
Izzy was the only kid in her age range today so she got a private lesson. She didn't mind. Her coach was a lot fun, but she does look forward to having some kids with her next time. She LOVED practicing the backhand the most. It came the most natural to her. She was already hitting the ball over the net with very little trouble within the first 20 minutes.
I thought this was cool. As I was taking this pic my phone rang, causing the waves.
Looking quite proud of herself at the end of her lesson.
"Oh, Mom! Tennis is so fun and easy! Well, maybe it will be harder when I am playing with someone for real."

HQ and Locke stayed home with Ty while Izzy and I went to tennis. When we came home we walked in on HQ and Ty singing along with Hello Kitty.
Oh, HQ. 
Tonight Izzy asked me if we could work out together. I don't ever push her to "work out". She knows I like to, so it's more of a bonding thing I suppose. She usually just likes to play around with the small free weights (and dance in the mirror) or sit on the rowing machine playing 20 questions while I do my thing. Tonight she wanted to give the treadmill a try. She really enjoyed it. "Wow! This is almost like real walking. Well.. except you don't have to get muddy!" 

Workin' out in her gymnastics outfit.

No comments:

Post a Comment