After Cricket made a big volleyball team last fall, we started to get a glimpse of what our weekends were going to look like for the next eight years. Saturdays consisted of rushing off to tournaments before dawn only to enjoy concession stand popcorn for breakfast while sitting on the coldest aluminum bleachers known to the human bum. We quickly discovered the right level of gusto when cheering for our girl without embarrassing her (she is definitely a tween), and found ourselves beaming with pride enthusiastically after a good play even though we had been in the gym for what seemed like 36 hours straight. Yesterday, the latest match wasn’t going our way. Cricket had just gone through a series of tough misses and couldn’t seem to get the ball over the net. I had bitten through my nails and could barely watch. As she stepped up to serve, she rocketed one over for an ace. She turned around, caught my eye and gave a huge grin. In that one beautiful glance, I saw an unspoken thank you for being there to see that play and the countless others made so many weekends before. Whether it ends in victory or defeat, a sweet look over to Mom during the match will oftentimes make the game.