O's Kickball game, D's past life

Well, D was tired and needed to get to bed early, and so D& O's mom made a last minute plan for a friend to take O to the aforementioned kickball game, so that I could stay home and put D to bed. Olivia came home in a good mood, but the team had lost the game. She was a little bummed about that, but she admitted that they other team had "strategy" and some good kickers. Besides, O's team had beat them the last time they faced off, so she figured it was just kind of like taking turns.
Before the game, a couple of other teammates were at the house, playing on the trampoline in the backyard with D & O. The subject of the team they were going to face came up, especially the "big kicker", a tall-for-her-age 1st grader opponent, who aparently has good timing and power in her legs. The girls all groaned and wailed and imagined horrible scenarios in which the big kicker knocked it out of the park, or into one of our heroine's teeth. I talked a little about visualization, and asked them if they thought it would affect their game if they instead intentionally imagined themselves as a big kicker, or zipping around the bases, light as air. I explained that imagining all these horrible big kicker storylines was called "psyching yourself out" and asked if they thought that might effect their game. It was pretty cool. They did seem to think that they would be better off not thinking about imagined situations that hadn't even happened yet, when they could be spending their time making up cheers for their own team, or even just playing kickball! They were really open to the idea, and even tried the visualizations, for about 2 seconds, before resuming their tumbling and bouncing on the trampoline.
When O got home, she did mention a couple things that I found interesting. She wished that the other team just wasn't very good, that all the other teams weren't very good, so they could just beat them all the time. I told her that I feel that way, too, in general, but have found that the only times I get better at something is when I'm around people who are better at it than I am, or challenged to do better than I already do. I talked about how if there were never any challenges, then she might not be very good at anything, because there would be no reason to ever try harder, and grow. O really got this concept, and embraced it. She spent the rest of the night telling me about times she had been challenged, and had overcome it, or not. She did say that the times you're challenged and it whups you are the times that were easiest to think of. I have to agree, on most days.
She also made a pretty quick and dirty analysis of the skills of the team, and while she assessed herself as a pretty fast runner with the ability to do some quick footwork to avoid close calls, she put herself in the bottom two kickers on the team. She wasn't embarrassed or even very critical of herself. She said it with a shrug. She even knows that its a technique issue, and she needs to work on it. I suggested that once she gets a few good kicks she should try to remember how it felt, and replicate that feeling as much as she could. She said she just needs to kick with her foot in a different position. Heh.
I told her that one of the things that was so cool about babysitting her is that it was a lot like just hanging out with a friend, and not so much like _babysitting_ at all. She paused for minute, smirked at herself, smiled at me, and gave me a big hug. Then while she had me by the neck, she pulled me down to her level for a bounce-off-my-face, big smack of a kiss. She said her friends had noticed that I'm the only one who ever calls her by a nickname, but it was okay, because that's just how I am, and she didn't mind that. She told them to call her by her full name.
While O was at the game, I pushed D on the swing for a little bit before dinner and bath and story and bedtime. She launched into a story in a very condescending, lectury manner, as though I may not understand, about her "other mother, the one up in the clouds" who she says she speaks to, who used to take care of her, and was her mother "a very long time ago before she was born". Curious, especially if you believe in ANYTHING supernatural. (I admit, I do) I asked if it was a different mommy than her mommy now, who I named. She assured me it was a different mommy, who used to be her mommy. I always speak pretty acceptingly, especially during imaginary play. Sometimes kids will end up laughing at you if you take them seriously when they are putting you on, but she was just as matter-of-fact as I. She swung in silence for a while, and then decided that we should go and play some music together.
She hooted and wheezed and heaved minor chords out of her harmonica, I slowly plunked out a new song from her sister's piano lesson books. Then, she danced, while I played her favorite waltz from an old piano lesson book from my childhood. I have stashed my old book in their bench, so I have some familiar material when they demand a concert.