Dear Colin Kaepernick,
    We know this weekend you'll have your first game of the season, as the 49ers take on the Packers.  You have a little fan who has been waiting all year long.
    Our son Ethan is eight years old and can't wait to see you play.  He watches every game, tries to copy all of your moves and even begged to play football this Fall - to try and learn how to be like you.
    Each night as he falls asleep, he holds his football and asks..."How long do I have to wait until I can try out for the Niners?  I want to be on Colin's team."
    Ethan had his first official game yesterday and was beyond thrilled to hear the whistles blow.  There were no words to describe his face as he turned to wave at us when they called his name.  My heart swelled as he ran to take the field, wearing his favorite number...seven.  
    As one of the smaller kids on his team, he surprised us all with his intensity.  He seems to have a heart and a passion that is all but palpable.  
    Running to the kitchen today, he sat with a pencil and paper to write a letter to you.  He was so excited to tell you about his game and how he couldn't wait to see yours.      
     So Colin, we want to wish you the best of luck this Sunday.  We will be rooting for you from afar, as a boy and his brothers run around cheering with their Dad...like many families will do.  
    It's hard for me to imagine though, that you'll have a bigger fan out there, than one special eight year old boy, named Ethan.

     No matter how long our boys live in this house, I don't know if or when I'll ever be able to figure them out.  There's a strange mix of simplicity and complexity that goes along in the mind of a boy.  There are no rule books...just everyday training.   
     Here, let me give you some examples...  
     While at the grocery store, our eight year old stops dead in his tracks as we pass by the toothpaste section.  "MOM!  I saw this on TV!  Can we GET IT?!"  
     If you've ever taken kids into a grocery store with you, you know that in almost every section of every aisle they're going to find something that they want to get...but toothpaste?  
     Feeling a sense of pride in the new found awareness that my son was thoughtful about his hygiene, I smiled at the fact that we were raising him well. 
     "Buddy, we don't need toothpaste today.  We have plenty.  Let's go."
     "But MOOOOM!  This stuff is new and it's really cool!  Look.  It says right here, whiter teeth in one week.  ONE WEEK MOM!"
     Stopping the cart, a series of questions shot through my mind.  (Why is he interested in whiter teeth?  He's eight!  Has the bombardment of advertisements already started to affect his sense of self?  His self esteem?  His little personality?)
     "Ethan, why do you want to have whiter teeth in a week buddy?  Your teeth are perfectly fine."
     Again, remember, we're dealing with boys here...
     "No mom!  It MEANS that you don't have to brush your teeth for a WHOLE WEEK and they stay clean and white!  A WHOLE WEEK mom!  That's AWESOME!"
     (Seriously?)
     Then you have our ten year old son.  This summer I pulled him into the kitchen with me, kicking and screaming.  I made him learn how to cook, read instructions and follow the measurements of recipes as we made dinners together.  He hated every minute of it but I promised him that one day when
he was older, the chicks would dig it.  
     Fast forward to yesterday, he yelled upstairs to ask if he could have a snack.  Again...feeling the pride in the sense of independence and knowledge that I've instilled in our boys, I yelled back down that it was fine.
    A few minutes later, I wanted to check on him and see how he was doing.  As I walked into the kitchen, I found him leaning against the fridge.
    "Did you eat your snack?"
    "No.  I'm still waiting on it."
    "Waiting on it?  What are you waiting on?"
    "The salsa.  I'm going to have chips and salsa but I have to wait."
    "Christian, I don't understand why you need to wait on salsa?  What do you mean?"
    Raising his hands, he looked at me with surprise.  "Mom, you're the one who told me I had to read everything to learn how to make it...and well...the salsa said, refrigerate after opening.  I just opened it soooo now it's in the fridge." 
    Aaaaand there you have it.  There's nothing quite like the mind of a boy and I don't know if I'll ever be able to figure them out.  Like I said before though, I'll have to
remember that there are no rule books...just everyday training...with lots and lots of toothpaste and salsa.
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     Preston had his very first football scrimmage.  It was a beautiful day with the smell of popcorn in the air.  Whistles blew and parents gathered in the stands.
     There was an equal mix of excitement and nerves swirling around my stomach as I watched him warm up with his team.  More than anything, I wanted him to have fun.  He's six years old and it's only flag football, but it was his first game ever.
     When the coach called his name and he took the field, my heart pounded. 

    Every parent knows that feeling of wanting to protect their child.  Even though I knew there would be no hitting or contact in the game, it's hard not to let your mind wander with any number of possibilities. 
    But something happened.  When the team clicked into their places, a different look came over Preston's face.  I've heard about this look from his teacher last year but next to never get to see it.  His teacher told us that when Preston works on a project or has to focus on something, an intensity comes over him.     
    The Preston we know is nothing short of a goof ball.  He's the baby brother to his two older brothers and he's usually hot dogging around with them to make them laugh...or to simply get away from them to save his life. 
    You see, for almost six years now, little Pret has been less of a kid brother, and more of a target for Christian and Ethan.  Preston's learned the art of being either really funny to distract them, or when that doesn't work, he's learned to be ridiculously fast.  Those have been about his only two options for survival.  
     "Funny" Preston was not on this field...  

     During each play, he focused on the game and made each move with intention.  My eyes widened as I watched his face...his eyes.  He was not my "baby" by any means. 
     As soon as the whistle blew and he came off the field, it surprised me even more how he switched from his "game face", to having the best time with his buddies. 
    They were kids...having a ball. 

      When the game was over, one of the coaches approached me and laughed.  "You know, your son is such a little guy, but he's so full of intensity.  That kid has an instinct to move in a way that surprises me."
      I had to shake my head and laugh too.  Preston does have an instinct about him.  It's been a fine art skill that's been honed for years now.   
     ...And who would have thought that it would come in so handy on a perfectly beautiful day of football.  

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     My Dad grew up in the Navy.  He lived from place to place and spent a lot of his childhood in Europe.  As amazing as his upbringing was, it was important to him that my brother and I had roots.  My parents wanted us to have lifelong friends and a place to call home. 
     They found a small town in Ohio that had around 5,000 people.  It was a good place where everyone knew everyone and they looked out for each other.
     Luckily, that's where my parents settled and my brother and I had the best time growing up.  
     Looking back, one of my favorite things from home was that every year there was a festival.  Everyone gathered around the town square where endless amounts of food, rides, games and fun, were all topped off with a huge parade.  It marked the beginning of fall, acting almost as a Band-Aid for those of us in school who mourned the carefree days of Summer.  
     I still miss those days.  It kills my soul that my kids don't have a hometown.  We live in a great neighborhood, we love our church, love their school, but there's no true town square or hometown feel.  I didn't know to appreciate how rare that was when I was a child. 
     Knowing that the festival was coming up, a sudden urge came over me to take the kids back home.  Friday after work, I smiled as big as I could at my husband Adam.  Shaking his head, he knew I was serious. 
    "You have lost your mind.  You want to drive all the way to Ohio?"        
     "I really want to take them home.  We can run up tomorrow, catch the parade at 6:00, let them ride rides and eat cotton candy, then shoot back in the morning." 
     "Shoot back in the morning."
     "Yes!  It will be fun!"
     "Beatty, the boys start school on Monday.  We need to get ready for that.  We're in North Carolina.  We can't go to Ohio.  That's crazy." 
      I guess this is the part where I should mention that he's the analytical, responsible and rational one...and I'm...well, not.  
      Getting in the car on Saturday morning, Adam shot me a look and I knew exactly what it meant.  I suddenly began to hope that my memories held true and the kids would have as much fun as I did growing up.  
      Shooting texts back and forth with my best friends from home and my Sister in law, it looked like everyone was going to meet at the parade.  I crossed my fingers that Adam and the kids would enjoy it as much as I hoped they would.
      The drive was actually a lot better than we had expected.  The West Virginia mountains were beautiful and we found ourselves with our noses pressed against the windows as we drove through the clouds and the tunnels.
      As we approached my hometown, excitement filled the car.  The kids began to yell when they saw the tops of rides peeking over the roofs of buildings.  Adam gave me an annoyed grin as he shook his head.  We took a turn onto the first road that wasn't blocked off for the parade route and happened to see my best friend Sissy walking on the sidewalk.  
     Screaming, I jumped out of the car and she turned and screamed too.  We ran and hugged each other laughing and carrying on. 
      Running back to the car, Adam's eyes were wide as Sissy and I jumped into the car.  
      Finding a spot to park, we found our other best friends Tricia and Amy.  Their families were gathered together next to our old Jr. High and it was hard to believe how much their kids had grown.  Mackenzie is Tricia's daughter and was the cutest flower girl for our wedding.  This adorable little girl was now grown and beautiful.  Amy's daughter Riley was a baby just a minute ago and now she was tall and gorgeous.  It reminded me that time goes too quickly.  
     I suddenly had an overwhelming sense of relief that we did this.  Seeing the two girls made me realize that in no time, my kids would be grown too.  
     Realizing that we hadn't found my brother David and his wife Heather yet, I couldn't wait to surprise the kids.  We didn't tell them that their little cousins Charlie and Fiona would be there so I knew they were about to flip out.  Turning the corner of the parade route towards our church, there they were.  All six cousins saw each other and began jumping and giving hugs.  They immediately got to work gathering candy being thrown at them from the parade.
    The night was filled with family, friends, food and fun.  The kids played games, rode rides and ate ridiculously delicious food.      
    Laughing and having the best time, I caught a glimpse of my husband.  He looked towards me and whispered, "I don't know what I'd ever do without you."
    I felt the exact same way.  He is the best thing that ever happened to me.  
    The night was perfect and it was fun to take a break from the real world.  Life is short and it's meant to be lived.  You have to work hard but you also need to enjoy the good times too.
    When it all comes down to it, faith, family, friends and love are really the only things that matter.  It sure is nice to have a great place to call home and some cotton candy to sweeten the deal though.  Until next year... 

     The three boys began school this week.  Christian and Ethan already knew the drill but little Preston began his first year at their school in the Kindergarten class.  He was so excited he could hardly stand it. 

     His backpack was ready and his lunchbox was set.  He had never eaten lunch at school before so he carefully chose what to take. 
     After explaining to him that popsicles weren't an option, he was ready for the day.  His best friend from preschool named Davin happened to be in his Kindergarten class, so Preston was looking forward to seeing him.  
     Getting ready to go, Preston ran out the door.  I wondered all day how he was doing.  For years now, he has waited to go to school with his two big brothers.  It was hard to believe the day had finally come.
     That night at dinner, Preston was quiet.  Looking down, he said, "I cried three times today."  
     Adam and I glanced at each other then turned to Preston.  "Why Buddy?  What happened?" 
     "Well, the first time, I missed Daddy, the second time, I missed Mommy and the third time, I wanted to find Christian and Ethan but I couldn't.  You said that we would be in school together but they weren't there.  I looked everywhere." 
     My heart sank.  We tried to explain how his big brothers really were with him, just in different parts of the school.  
     Preston seemed to be a little better as he took bites of his spaghetti.  He informed us though, that he definitely didn't want to go to school the next day. 
    Making a "First day of school" cake, little Preston seemed to forget about everything else.

    The next day after school, I was so nervous picking him up.  My stomach filled with knots as I waited to see his face.  When I caught a glimpse of him, he began to run towards me...smiling from ear to ear. 
    "It was GREAT!  I LOVE it!"  Was all that he said as he climbed in the car.  He was wearing some type of hat they made in school and he wouldn't take it off.  
    "I can't wait for tomorrow Mommy."  A smiled filled my soul.  
    "I'm so glad to hear that Little Man.  I'm happy you had fun today."  
    "Yep!"
    And that was it.  It was all that I needed to hear. 
    I know how quickly time will pass so I'll cherish every minute.  No matter how old he gets though, I'll never forget him on his first day of Kindergarten.  That little boy sitting there eating spaghetti and worrying about his day.  Even as he leaves for college, that little one will always be in my heart.    
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     With his back bent with age, he sat beside her and held her hand...refusing to leave her side.  I watched as he softly rubbed the warm skin of her knuckles and noticed her bones and veins resembling a map of their lives.
     "I fell in love with her when she was so young."  He whispered. 
     "Sir?  Are you ready?  Your ride is here."
     Sitting up a little straighter, the weathered man raised his eyes to study the young intruder in the doorway.  He had come to steal him away from his wife. 
      Glancing back in my direction, he redirected his attention to his wife, lifting her hand to his cheek.  She slept peacefully in her hospital bed. 
     Shutting his eyes he softly said, "When you've spent over 70 years with the same person, how can you spend a single day apart?"
     Not knowing if it was a question or statement, I stood and put my hand on his shoulder.  
     "What would you like to do?"  I quietly asked.
     "I need to stay.  I'm not leaving her."
     Glancing at the person in the doorway, I motioned to go out to the hall.  "Is there anyway he can stay a little longer?  He really wants to be with her." 
     The employee from the retirement home where the man lived shook his head.  "I really need to get him back Ma'am."  Scratching his head, he continued, "If it was my wife in that bed though, I wouldn't want to leave her either.  I'll see what I can do."  
    Giving me a quick wink, he turned to walk down the long white hall. 
    As I reentered the patient's room, she had shuffled in her bed a little which made her watchful husband more alert.  "I don't want her to fall.  Since her stroke she's unaware of herself."  
      He was right.  She had lost the ability to control her left side and gave reasonable concern to worry.  
      She slowly opened her eyes and frowned to focus on her protector.  Her expression changed from confusion to peace.  She was relieved to see him and her eyes softened.  He smiled at her.
     "I'm right here.  You're okay."
     I could see her small right hand squeeze tightly onto his.  She was a young 93 to his 97 years.  
     Stepping out of her room into the hallway, I leaned against the cold hard wall with my clipboard and tried to hold in the tears.  It was useless.  To see this lifelong love had an effect.  The most overwhelming sense of happiness and heart crushing sadness filled my chest.
     Every week when I go to work now, I see him, watching over his wife.  She is getting better and stronger but he never wants to leave her side. 
     It's a blessing and a curse to work with people in the end stages of their lives.  I learn more than one could possibly imagine from the knowledge and history of the past 100 years.  More than anything they have taught me is that life is too short.  The happiest of those in the end know that faith, love and friendship far outweigh money, power and greed.  
    I will go to work next week and walk down the hall in hopes to see her there.  More than that though, I'll hope to see the smile in her eyes as she holds onto him, refusing to let him go.    
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     Have you ever had one of those days where you take a minute to sit back and look around?  You know...the kind of day where you wonder, "Is this what I thought my life would be?  Did I picture myself living like this?" 
     Sometimes it's hard to even find a minute to reflect because things seem to be going at you at a thousand miles per hour...like macaroni and cheese.  Let me go back...   
     Last week, Amy, my best friend and roommate from graduate school brought her kids to visit.  Her husband, Dominic had a cool trip to climb Mt. Rainier so Amy and her cute three year old little girl Ava and sweet baby boy Greyson, hopped on a plane.
    I say that mind you, with tongue in cheek because if you've ever traveled by yourself with two small children, there is no simple "hopping" onto anything.  
    Amy came through the airport just as cute as she could be with her two kids, luggage, backpack, diaper bag, stuffed animals, blankets, stroller...you get the idea.  
    If I took you back to our days in school, sure we were busy.  Sure we seemed to have a ton of things to do and we stressed about our classes, assignments, etc.  Graduate school was hard.  It was a lot of work and we pushed through.  We always had the future to look forward to though.  We had dreams of what would come.  
    As we loaded the car between the two of us, we had to giggle at how things have changed.  Gone were the days of going out on Friday nights and sleeping in Saturday mornings.  The days of studying in our pajamas were behind us.  Life was chaotic now.  Oh we were still in our pajamas, but it wasn't because of studying anymore.  
     Amy and her two little ones were settled in and our week was a blast.  My husband Adam went off to work in the mornings and Amy and I had fun with the six kids between the two of us throughout the days. 
     One afternoon during lunch, a mandarin orange and some macaroni and cheese flew by our heads and it took all that we had not to fall over laughing.  Amy looked at me with every ounce of sincerity and said, "I used to wear cute matching bras and underwear."
     She was right.  That one simple sentence summed up our lives as we knew it.  Kids, flying food, days of chaos mixed in with the inability of having one thirty minute period of time for peace and quiet, have all but replaced the days of cute and matching bras and underwear.           
     Looking back on it all though, wondering if this is how two young girls thought it would all turn out...I'd hope to answer yes.  Most definitely, yes. 
     After all, life is hard.  It's a lot of work and we push 
through.  We always have the future to look forward to though and we have dreams of what will come.  
    Miss and Love You Aim, Ava and Greyson!  Can't wait to see you again SOON!  XOXO
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     It's not everyday that you get to take a step back in time.  I recently got to do just that. 
     My best friend from college and I were inseparable.  Her name is Pam and we were in the same classes, same clubs and organizations, we cheered together and all but finished each others sentences. 
     The strangest thing about us though was that we were complete and total opposites from head to toe.  She's blonde with brown eyes, I'm brunette with blue.  Her favorite color is black, mine is pink.  She loves country music while I love any single type of music in the world...as long as it's not country.
     Pam is very smart and analytical where I'm a dreamer.  You would think that we couldn't or shouldn't get along, but for whatever reason, we did.
     Her husband Chris wanted to surprise her for her birthday by bringing me home to see her.  Pam and I haven't seen each other in years so I was excited when he called.  He booked the flight, set the party for his family's lake home in Pennsylvania  
...and I was off.  
    I landed in Pittsburgh (that's a whole different story for another day) and Chris's little sister Megan picked me up.  That's where the time warp began.  I knew Megan when she was a kid.  Here she was grown and beautiful with two children of her own.  
    Megan took me to the lake and everything felt exactly the same.  I had gone to this house for years as a teen and young 20's.  There were endless amounts of laughter and memories made there.  Chris's family owned the house and his parents Shari and Charlie continued to keep the house full of beauty and charm.  
    When I got out of the car, Pammy was standing in the driveway.  It was as though time fell away and there she was.  She looked exactly the same and we ran towards each other to hug and then cry. 
    Over the next two days I was lucky enough to take a glimpse into her life and the fabulous family and friends she was surrounded by.
    It was so nice to take a step back in time and remember the love and friendship of truly good people.  I miss them and hope that it won't be long until we see them again.
    Thank you for your wonderful and generous hospitality Shari, Charlie and Megan and THANK YOU for getting me home Christopher Robert.  Happy, Happy Birthday Best Friend Pammy Sue!  Miss and Love You More than words!   
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     Time goes by so quickly.  Before we turn around, another year has passed.  When our first son was born, we used to take family pictures with him all the time...I'm talking, like every three months.  We were crazy I know, but I wanted to capture every change that he had. 
     Now that our fourth and final little one is here, we almost never have pictures taken.  Life is too busy and we don't make the effort.  We SHOULD, but we don't.
     I know that before we turn around, the kids will be grown and gone and I'll regret not taking more photos when they were young.  
     With that being said, we were lucky to be introduced to a beautiful and wonderful photographer named Julia.  She was kind (and brave) enough to meet us at a park and capture these...

    She let the kids play and have fun.  It was easy and relaxing.  She even had them go for a game of "Duck, Duck, Goose". 

     She found loving moments and precious memories...

     It was a fun summer day.  We really should be better at taking family photos but I'm so thankful that we met Julia. She was kind and gifted while her ability to use the light was incredible.  She made it such a great time for the whole family and we can't wait to spend the day with her again.   
     Thanks again Julia!  You really are the Best!  
     You can contact Julia on her Facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/juliachristinephotography 

     Our son Christian turned 10 yesterday.  Ten years old.  I really can't believe how fast the decade went.
     He asked for a Pokémon cake for his big double digits day.  Calling around to different grocery stores and a bakery or two, it was hard to find a Pokémon themed cake.  
     With the greatest of sincerity, Christian asked, "Hey mom.  Why can't you just make it?"  (insert laugh here)
     "Ummmm, well...Buddy, I could try but it probably wouldn't turn out that well."
     "You can do it Mom."
     For whatever reason, a spark of inspiration came over me.  (I CAN do it!  I'll make that cake and it will be the BEST 10 year old birthday Pokémon cake EVER!) 
     I remembered a cake mold we have for sports that's two half spheres.  You bake each side then put them together to form a ball.  If you happen to know anything about Pokémon, you know there's a ball thingy that's a part of the game. 
     I would make the prized confection perfection then smile as the kids sang praises of their amazing and talented mother who should have been a cake decorator.      
     Baking both halves in the oven, the house smelled like Heaven.  I could hardly wait for the fun part of putting the whole thing together.  When the two halves came out perfectly, I could already imagine the hugs and adoration from my son as he blew out the candles on his amazing cake.  
     Aaaaaand that's when fantasy finally met reality. 
     Putting icing on the bottom half, everything actually looked great.  Both sides were cooled and ready to be put together.  When I carefully placed the top half on the bottom, it started to crack.  The crack became a split, then the split began to cave in altogether so that it looked like one big pile of cake destruction.    
     My best friend from home is visiting and in between screams, we frantically called any bakery number we could find.  I tried to shove chop sticks down into the collapsing sections to save them but it was too late. 
     I began to make the icing for the top in attempts to cover the mess.  The top of a Pokémon ball is supposed to be red, but no matter how hard I tried, the icing was pink.  Yes, pink.  It was a complete and total nightmare with pink icing on top. 
     I failed my son and was going to give him the worst 10 year old birthday cake ever.
     Trying to put some Pokémon toys around it to mask the disaster, I called him in to see the sad and sorry results.  
     "Baby, I tried.  I'm sorry, but it's awful.  Maybe we can go get a cake that's already made at the store."
     Looking at the cake, Christian shrugged his shoulders.  "It's okay Mom.  It looks alright.  Besides, it all tastes the same."
     Have I ever mentioned that I love this child?
     Christian's birthday turned out to be a ball (no pun intended) and nobody really seemed to care about the cake other than to get a good laugh or two out of it. 
     I'll know from now to never EVER try to make a birthday cake from scratch again and I have the utmost respect for the people who do.  
     Happy 10th Birthday Christian.  We love you more than all the cake in the world...even the ones that don't look like this.