How our parents let us do this, I'll never know.  We were all 15 and 16 years old when we piled into one car and danced our way to the Ohio State Fair to see the New Kids on the Block.  I have a 15 year old now and could never imagine letting him do this, but as they say, it was a different time. 
    Over an hour on the roads to Columbus, Ohio with no cell phones, no GPS, just a group of girls singing  with anticipation for an actual glimpse of our future husbands.  Most of my friends loved Joey, I was a Donnie girl myself, but no matter.  We were young without a care in the world and we were about to see our first concert ever.
     We had a plan.  We'd get there when the gates to the fair opened, find the best seats possible and wait it out until that evening, taking turns throughout the day to find food for each other and use the restroom. 
   We'd heard the singer, Tiffany would be opening for NKOTB and could hardly believe our luck.  Could life get any better?   
     Evidently, it could.  Little did we know how long an actual entire summer day in an open arena could be.  The initial excitement settled as the  muggy heat began to  rise.  Our faces flushed with pink, then red, only to be relieved by unexpected clouds and thunderstorms that followed.
     Determined, we stuck it out in the lightning and pouring rain, just knowing if we survived, it would be worth it in the end - and worth it, it was.
    Tiffany appeared after a lifetime of waiting.  We were sunburned, soaked then dried with crazy hair, but we didn't care.  She was amazing, making it almost impossible to believe it was all really happening.  Belting the words to, "I Saw Him Standing There," had us in awe that she was actually in front of us. 
       It was surreal and we couldn't imagine what it would be like when they appeared. 
     The first note of their song filled the air and the crowd went wild.  Images of old TV shows from "Elvis" concerts or the "Beatles" came to mind as hundreds of girls around us began screaming and literally crying tears of anticipation.  In front of us was a chain linked fence and everyone from behind began to push forward, forcing us against the metal and taking our breath.  Quickly scanning for my friends, we instinctively began to push back to force them off.  
​      Just then, Jonathan, Jordan, Danny, Joey...and yes (give me a minute) Donnie appeared like magic.  Arms waving to musical explosions through seas of screams and tears.  It would've been pandemonium if it weren't so perfect.  Crowds of girls knew every word and began backing off as they took in the performance.
     Song after song, the night was like a dream.  It couldn't have been better and I smiled knowing we would remember it for the rest of our lives.
     Driving home, we were blissfully exhausted.  It was a day we'd never forget and I drifted into a nap knowing these would be my best friends for life.  I've never known a time without them since our days of elementary school and nothing would break that bond.
      Nearly thirty years later - we're still together.
    As fate often smiles, New Kids on the Block are back on tour and as luck would have it, Tiffany is with them, too.  This weekend we girls are gathering  together again from Texas, Carolina and Ohio to relive the fun. 
     We're all married now and will have to wave to Joey and Donnie from afar, but it's okay.  To be able to spend a night with best friends, our sisterhood, will be the greatest gift on earth.
     And better yet?  This time rain or shine, the concert will be inside and we even have tickets and actual seats. 
    Something tells me though, when that first song hits, we won't be using them much.                   

     At the end of an incredible year,  the team our daughter competes with made it to  the most amazing national competition called, The Summit which is held at the ESPN center in Disney World.
      It was a wonderful experience with friends and family we'll always hold close and we're looking forward to years to come...  

       It's a debate cheerleaders have dealt with for decades.   When it comes to cheer, is it or is it not a sport?  
      I could begin with the obvious by stating the purest definition of a sport which indicates "A sport is an athletic activity requiring skill or physical exertion in which an individual or team competes against another". 
      hmmmm…seems pretty cut and dry.  
     Believe it or not however, you'll still have your doubters.  Let me go back a few years to prove my point.
     Growing up, I cheered.  Our high school team was wonderful due to phenomenal coaches, (Thank You, Libby) amazing hometown support and an  awesome group of girls.  We competed in Nationals year after year, went to Europe to cheer...   

​...even went on to colleges to continue into career paths involved in cheer.

       Most of my best friends to this day are the girls I cheered with.  We are godmothers to each others children,  forever confidants and a constant support due to the experiences and bonds we formed through cheer.  
        Why does this matter or is it even fair to compare this to any other sport?  Absolutely. I need to mention that growing up I also played basketball, volleyball and ran track, yet nothing compared to the requirements or demands of cheer.  
       Nothing.
     I believe the debate exists due to the stereotypical concept of what a cheerleader is - someone who leads a crowd during a football or basketball game and is there to support a team.  That is one element of cheer and it's a wonderful aspect, however beginning around the 80's cheer began to take on a whole different role.  The pure athleticism evolved as competitions began to take place, elevating cheer to a whole new level...and when I say a different level...what this year has involved opened my eyes even more.  
      Our daughter entered the world of extreme cheer.  She joined a gym which again has phenomenal coaches,  (Thank You, Kelly, Liz, DP and Shane) amazing hometown support  and an Awesome group of girls.
    As an elementary student, she just returned from a national competition called, "The Summit" held at the ESPN sports complex in Disney World where the best of the best in the country compete.  After seeing the girls work through days, weeks and months of blood sweat and tears being poured into their routine, it was surreal to see how the world disappeared when their team hit the floor.  When your child is under the lights in front of the judges, no one on this earth can tell you it's not a sport or competition.  The athleticism it takes alone to pull off what these kids did is simply mind blowing.  The team has put more time and effort into this one season, than all three of our sons combined have put into any sport they've been a part of...and as a parent...your heart stops beating once they take the floor.              

       There's nothing you can do but grip your hands and watch, pray, try to keep your heart and your stomach from overtaking your throat as you hold on to every move, every single motion the team makes, hoping it's exact. 

         Then you see their smile.  You see their eyes light up and the joy they have knowing it all comes down to this.  Everything  else melts away and you realize this is what makes it all worth it.  The experiences they'll have, the highs and lows.  
     As wonderfully as the team did, they didn't place this year, however several of the teams from their gym went on to win it all.  Their learning experience made for an intangible  result and the  coaches' words following the competition  provided determination for next year.
      In the end, there is no other conclusion in my mind to the question of whether or not cheer is a sport.  Not only is the answer a resounding yes, it's much more than that.   It's an opportunity where the physical demands, competitive requirements, levels of body and mental endurance combine to result in incredible victories both on and off the floor...all while creating the greatest of lifelong friends, future godmothers to each others children,  forever confidants and a constant support due to the experiences and bonds that will undoubtedly be formed through the sport of cheer. 

           Having four kids over the past 15 years - it's the phone call you never want to get. 
           Sitting at my desk at work,  I glanced at my cell with a raised brow upon noticing the message left by their school.  We next to never calls from them, but when we do, it's typically not for something good.  
           My mind raced between which of the kids it could  be versus  what  they did or who was sick.
          I wasn't prepared for  the message  I heard.
       It was the school nurse's voice (ugh,  somebody's sick) but I listened with confusion since they  all seemed to be fine this morning.
         It wasn't until her message began to explain how our youngest son, Preston had fallen at recess and we needed to come to the school, stating how his arm concerned her.
        Having never experienced the possibility of a broken bone in one of our children, my mind went into two different directions.  The first, "There's no way it's broken" and the second, "I need to get to him, NOW".
      Calling the school back and speaking with the nurse, the second direction kicked in and I turned into some form of crazy focused, (or maybe just crazy) mom.  
        Our beautiful office manager at the front desk where I work must have thought I'd lost my mind as I blasted through the building with my car keys flying.  
        It's a 30 to 40 minute drive from work to the kids on a good day.  I wanted to get to him in like, five.
     Calling my husband Adam, I  began to explain when he  interrupted, "They called me too, I'm already on my way".
         Every Grandpa driver in the world was in front of me on the back Carolina country roads.  I wanted to scream,  taking deep breaths holding in tears as I pictured Preston pushing his arm against his chest in pain for another half an hour, by himself.
        "MOVE!"  I  yelled at an old white pick up truck crawling five miles per hour under the speed limit on the back two lane.  
       Calling my best friend from home,  I've known Tricia since we were both three years old.   Realizing something was wrong the second she heard my voice, she began to  try and calm me down.  "What good are you going to be  if you get in a car wreck or get pulled over right now?"
         She was right, even though I didn't want to admit it.
       In what seemed like an eternity, I was almost there when Adam called.  "I've got him, go home so we can take a look at him.  He's got an ice pack on his arm."
         I Dukes of Hazarded my way around to head home and we took him together from there.  
         Preston was surprisingly calm but worried while Adam and I put our game faces on... 
"Is it broken?" 
"We hope not, Buddy." 
"Will I have to get a cast?" 
"We don't know, Little Man.  They'll do x-rays and let us know." 
"Do x-rays hurt?"
"No, Pret.  It's just like taking a picture, except it takes a picture of your bones."
"Will I get a shot?"
"Not for an x-ray."
"Do killer bees really kill you?"
"Wait. What?"
"Will I still be able to play lacrosse?"
"Depends on what the doctor says."
"FORTNITE?!"
        The glance Adam and I shot to him let him know how little concern we had about his future Fortnite capabilities.  
        Getting to  urgent care,  we waited.     

       Calling us back, it wasn't long until they carried him away for x-rays.   Looking at his wrist, I assumed the results, but was hoping  for the best.

       Sure enough, his wrist was fractured.  Two kind nurses came to wrap him up and we couldn't tell if he was strangely excited about the idea of it all or completely bummed.   Probably both. 

       His lacrosse (and Fortnite) days are on hold for a little, but he's going to be completely fine.  He's learning how to do things  he'd never thought about before like, putting socks and shoes on, cutting his food, brushing his teeth...all with his opposite hand.  Try as he might, there's no getting out of homework or tests, but it was a good effort.
     It won't be long until summer and by then he should be good to go.  
     Until that time, I'll be perfectly fine to get no more phone calls, God willing.  In the end though, I'm not going to lie about being happy about the Fortnite.  :) 

   I have a friend named Karie.  We met at a park years ago when our boys were only three.  There she was with her son, wearing a Michigan shirt.  Being born, bred and raised in the great state of Ohio, you can imagine our initial reaction to each other, but as fate often laughs - we turned out to be the fastest friends.
    What's amazing about Karie, is she has one of the most kind and generous souls I've ever met.  To give you a perfect example, a few months ago she called with an idea before Christmas. 
    During the day I work as a therapist with children and in the evenings I switch over to work with geriatric patients.  I take a lot of emotions and thoughts home with me as I consider what I've listened to from these amazing people ranging from the beginning of life to the end.
    Karie knows this and wanted to see if she could be a part of the holidays for a few of the little ones.  She asked to choose a couple boys and girls so she could get a few gifts.
    Little did I know, she had connections with the North Pole.  Bringing her daughter, Emily, her son, Grant and my son, Ethan, the four of them came right before Christmas break with baskets overflowing with gifts.  One by one, we brought the little ones in as their eyes lit up with disbelief.  Beautifully wrapped gifts with shiny paper and bags were never ending as the children carefully opened each one, painstakingly careful not to rip the paper.
     They couldn't conceive of such an experience while we stood in wonder of their overall reactions.  Toy after toy and gift after gift, they didn't tear through them like our kids would.  They marveled at each and every one, seemingly cherishing every moment. 
     One little girl in particular received toys and games, but what she became most excited about was a package of socks and a new pair of shoes.  Barely containing her joy, she pulled her boots off and tugged her new socks on, then her shoes.  She jumped, she ran...and then she danced.  Full on dancing as though she were a ballerina in the Nutcracker.  Spinning and twirling she smiled.  "They're perfect," she giggled - and she hasn't stopped.  
    It's been months now and her wonderful teacher came to tell me what a difference there's been.  It's as though she's a different student through and through with a light that comes from feeling special.
    Karie doesn't see the effect she made on those students, but it's there.  They wear the warm winter clothes she gave them and always tell me how much they play with their dinosaurs, cars and dolls she brought.
    Her light brought love that they'll hold forever and it's a gift to know people like Karie are out there, who secretly do selfless acts of kindness.  She didn't do one bit of it to be acknowledged in anyway...she doesn't even know I'm writing this post.
    Everyday I see the kids though, especially the adorable little dancer and I smile knowing what a difference she made.  It may have been a simple act to Karie, but for those little ones, even a tiny pair of shoes can change this entirely big world.                  

    If you've been around sports, you know the pulse of the team comes typically from the heart of the coach.  As a player, a coach can stay with you for a lifetime, good or bad...but as a parent?  It's surprising how the impressions you have of the coach of your child can be.
     We've all experienced it.  Coaches we've loved, coaches we've...well...but what makes a good coach?  Growing up playing sports and now having kids of our own, we've come across more than we can count between the years.  There are the typical categories every parent has become accustomed to - the always present, "Dad Coach", you know the one.  The head coach who has one purpose in life - to guarantee their child will be the quarterback, point guard, center of the universe and most assuredly attain fame one day solely because of their efforts as a coach...all while every other player on the team wonders why they're there.
    You have the "We will win at all costs" coach, who cares about little else other than the scoreboard.  Character, development, integrity...all pretty much go out the window if it means getting in the way of victory.
    But what about the good ones?  The ones who you can hear even throughout your adulthood?  Coaching words of wisdom in the best and worst of times.
    My hometown had one of these and our two older boys have been lucky enough to play for one as well.  Their school's football coach has been an integral part in their middle school years in finding the meaning of what it takes to be on a team.  He focuses on coaching the heart of a player, their thoughts, actions, intentions.  He can be heard stating how he's coaching future men, not just boys on a team and how each practice, each game should be filled with work, heart, integrity...and heaven forbid, fun.  His motto is, "We're here to play football, not work football" and play they do.  Our oldest son has been on a conference championship team each year and was taken aback handing his helmet in for the last time.  We've heard our boys speak of very few coaches the way they have in regards to him and nothing on earth can replace that.
    So to the coaches who coach.  Really coach, not just your son or daughter, not just for the win, but for the true heart of the player and of the team.  To our son's coach.  The lessons you instilled of personal strength as well as in the imperative importance of the team with a fight so strong you can feel it, Thank You.  Their lives will forever be changed because of you.   

   It was a fun night with family and friends and a beautiful evening for Trick or Treating.  Hope you had a wild ride on this Happy Halloween! 

   If you know me, you know I pretty much geek out around the holidays, starting especially with Halloween.  Pumpkins, fall leaves, bonfires and Trick or Treating provided a childhood of the best memories - which I only hope will hold true for generations to come. 
    These are some costumes we've donned from years past, making me excited to ride into 2018 with a scream... 

   We can't wait to put our costumes on this year and race around for all the fun.  We hope you and yours have a Spooky and Spectacular Halloween!!! XOXO