To Commit or Not to Commit Early

We are a baseball family. It runs in our blood- Well, not mine- I was kinda afraid of the ball- but I did fall in love with a boy in tight white pants that played Division 1 baseball at our college.  We spend our weekends praying for sunny skies and good weather, loading up a wagon, schlepping to the fields, buying sidewalk chalk and hoping it entertains our youngest so we don't miss too much of a game, eating at way too many concession stands, and loving every minute of it.

I have spent my last month reading every online article I could find about early commitments to college and wishing baseball had the same rules as NCAA softball which prevents college recruiting until a student's Junior year. I've read the statistics about early commitments being risky and not coming to fruition. My hubby has made charts about every college that interests our son and how many commits they have for each year. He has had lunch and dinner with people he trusts to gain knowledge and advice.

Our son has made calls, visits, attended showcase events, camps and everything in between to hopefully "get noticed" and hopefully land on a coach's radar to achieve his goal of playing college baseball. And somewhere along the line, it became stressful, exhausting, and more of a job than something kids dream of. The fact of the matter is recruiting starts younger and younger and until rules and regs are passed, it is what it is.

Last night, before ever playing a high school baseball game, our son committed to play Division 1 college baseball at a team currently ranked #15 in the country. We couldn't be more proud. Am I here to say that our son is some stud that is going to make millions one day?  Nope. Far from it.  As a mother and his biggest fan, I am here to say that my son is a kid. He is a kid that is going to strikeout more times than you can count, slump, make boneheaded plays that leave me in the stands thinking, "Good Golly son, what in the heck are you doing?" He wasn't offered a scholarship for being this great standout, but rather for the potential that he is projecting. It's a gamble. As parents, we are just like any others-  We have even told him not to wear his high school baseball team's gear until he makes sure he makes the team because that is not a given. He is a kid that is going to make mistakes, live, and learn. And he is a kid that wants to be just that, a normal kid.

Trust me, we know that a verbal commitment means nothing and can be extremely one sided. We know coaches can leave a school (and we aren't dumb- We are well aware the amazing coach he will hopefully one day get to play for played at Clemson, was a coach there, and could very well end up leaving the school he is at to return to his alma mater). We get that. We have already seen a coach unfollow him and drop interest in him thirty minutes after he announced his commitment so we know with this decision colleges won't take notice of him. We agree we think it's crazy to commit to a school when our son doesn't even know what he wants to major in- Although might I point out I had no clue when I was 18 and went to college either.

So with all of these negatives and red flags, why in the world did we make such a huge decision?  I guess, we have realized what the stress of college recruiting can do. Yes, this may not work out- but this decision is just like life. If our son chooses not to work hard, then things will change and he knows that. He has what he dreamnt of- OPPORTUNITY.

Chris may drive us batty, but from the beginning, he has been very clear about things. We raised him to be a Hokie. He was dressed in orange and maroon the day he was born and we have attended games his entire life trying to brainwash him to see how amazing "our school" is. When he had the guts to look at my husband and I and say, "I like Tech, but I just don't want to walk in your footsteps. I want to do my own thing," we were crushed. We were also SO proud that he felt comfortable enough to say that.

After visiting a huge school, being treated to the full schmoozing of seeing their amazing facilities, for real being escorted by a girl to the team locker room, getting a uniform, seeing everything down to the "athlete's only barber shop" he could use at any time, he said to us, I just don't want to be that far from home. It was very apparent, he knows what he wants, and doesn't need the excitement of recruiting visits and being catered to.

So, long story short. We weighed options. We are in a situation where if all the stars align, with the scholarship we agreed to, the cost of college will not be a burden.  He will be at a school where the head recruiter does his job well and has formed an amazing relationship with him- with whom he feels happy and content. He's at a school that is close enough where if we want to make the drive for the day to watch a game it is close enough where our daughter's aren't tortured. We can go to games this summer with a little more ease and not be tense  thinking, "Oh my gosh there is a college coach here. Please don't mess up. Please notice him."

So many more reasons weighed into our decision. It may backfire and we may be scurrying and attending every showcase and camp in two years because things fall through. He may end up liking football more, have an injury, or just not want to play anything in college. And that is okay. But for now, we made a decision that is what suits our family best. The ball is in our son's hand and what he chooses to do with it is up to him.

We are a baseball family. We are a family where we try and instill in our kids that hard work pays off. We are a family that knows failure is a part of life and that this decision may end up coming back to bite us. But we are also a family that wants a kid that is not stressed out. We want a kid that is playing for the love of the game and only if he wants to. We are a family that knows we only have our son for a few more short years and we want his free time to be filled with kid things and not big life decisions. Go to the dance, hangout at McDonald's, go to games and cheer against your rival. We can't wait to travel to tournaments this summer with our amazing travel team and watch the boys play. We are a baseball family and we are so thankful that our son has been given this opportunity. And let me tell ya- watch out Kohl's because this is a Mama that is so excited to add some blue and gold to our wardrobe and to learn to cheer Let's Gooooooooo Mountaineers.

We are a baseball family. But above all that, we are just a normal family and the day that baseball comes to an end, we will still be cheering for our boy and be his biggest fans.

PS- We also value education. His college offers merit scholarships so don't you worry- We'll be nagging him about his grades now more than ever. :)

Don't Let Gamechanger Change the Game

I grew up playing baseball. Yep, Little League with the boys. That right there is me pitching on Loudoun South's Lion's Field. And that team photo has three girls in it because in our little town of Arcola there was no softball. Although you may not even be able to find me because I was such a tomboy.  And don't hate on our jeans. They made great baseball pants and if we had an awesome slide that tore our knees, our Mamas would slap a patch on those bad boys. I mean look at my pitching form. Impeccable- Or maybe I should just say my Daddy was so happy there was a five run limit or I never would have gotten us out of an inning.  I only pitched when desperate times called for desperate measures. And let's just say I never had thousands spent on lessons- If I wanted to learn, I learned from my Daddy out in our field.

Back in the day, baseball brought a town together. Kids pitched a million pitches in games because they weren't being shuttled off to a showcase or a weekend travel tournament. We had team gear. A bat was a bat and ya didn't get pissed off if a kid borrowed or dented your new $300 composite bat. Hell, in Arcola I remember we even had a team cup- and if you played catcher you'd shove that bad boy down your pants and then knock on it to show the coaches you were ready to go. For fundraising it wasn't up to your parents to post on social media to buy your bracket pools, but you walked door to door talking to your neighbors and sold them a big 'ole candy bar for $2. That chocolate was a hot commodity. I would live for the weekend where we would play at Waxpool because Mr. Parcell had built those famous underground dugouts. Parents would yell, whoop and holler, and if they got on their kid they weren't accused of being a psycho parent scarring their kid for life.

I can still remember the sound of gravel under our tires pulling up to the field and boy do I miss those days. So bad. Don't get me wrong, I still love the game and my favorite place to be is on a field watching my kids play. But it annoys me when numbers and stats, the pressure, and lately the technology behind the game get in the way.  And when I write blogs, trust me I'm not a know it all parent with all the answers... It is more me writing to myself because I see me being guilty of these behaviors and I'm just trying to get in check. There are so many times I need to remember that this is just a game with a stick and a ball and it's for F-U-N.

Within the last few years, there has been an app that is my BFF. Gamechanger. It's amazing. It allows me to follow along to games when I'm with one kid and my hubby is with another. I don't miss out. My phone will ding with a text saying "Great hit"... or other times "He's gonna walk him. Ya need to pull him off the mound," and I smile because I know grandparents are following from afar. We've even set up my hubby's 90 year old GiGi with the app and she cheers on our kids. The app has made improvments and recently added a voice play by play and I can listen rather than almost kill my kids while driving glancing at a close game.

But let me tell ya. Just like most technology, this app comes with a downside... and if any of these apply to you consider checking yourself...

• GC gives you an out.   My friends will tell you I'm crazy. I hate missing my kids games. But since Gamechanger has been around, I'm so less likely to be right there. Sure, I may be in the car within view. But if it's raining or cold, it is so much comfier to be in my car nice and toasty watching and following along on my app. Or if it requires us taking two cars and a lot of work, I may choose to lay on the couch and catch the game listening to it.  Lately, I've been trying to remind myself that sure, there are times when I'm not able to be there. But if I am, I will pack a blanket, carry an umbrella and "be" there. I will be present. Saying you are watching doesn't compare to your kid looking up in the stands and witnessing it themselves.

•  GC is not the big picture. While GC gives the rundown of the game, it leaves sooooo much out. You don't know about the kid that made the crazy, unreal slide into home to tie up he game. You don't know how a kid's curveball was moving. You don't hear about how a kid was absolutely robbed of a hit and how the second basemen made a catch that belonged on ESPN. You don't hear how a kid got in a pickle and made it safe. It doesn't show how a kid missed a sign. It doesn't show a kid who was playing sick or a kid that was toughing it out after being beamed by a pitch. And sometimes things are just entered wrong. My hubby jokes to look up defensive indifference and it's never used right. And though I've seen that scored a hundred times, I have no clue what that is but I just go with it.

• GC doesn't show Hustle and Heart.  GC leaves out a whole bunch. It doesn't show the kid that pops up off the bench to warm up left field without being asked. It doesn't show the kid picking up his team in the dugout and getting everyone fired up- and sometimes that kid is even more important than the kids making all-star plays on the field. It doesn't show the kid that gets to the game early and stays late. It doesn't show which kid stayed to put away the bases after the game or grabbed a mask and voluntarily warmed up  pitcher. Baseball is so much more than hitting, throwing, and catching... and sometimes it's those players that work hard and have the will that surpass those natural talents.

• GC doesn't show attitude. GC doesn't show a huge part of the game. It doesn't show a kid eye rolling at the umpire's call. It doesn't show a kid talking back to a coach, yelling at his Dad or even worse his teammate. GC doesn't show how a kid didn't run out a hit and take off after a dropped third strike because they were pissed. Attitude is everything.

• GC allows you to stalk. I'm guilty and it's not a good thing and I've had to stop. GC allows you to type in any team and see how other teams and kids are doing. With as competitive as the sport has become this can eat away at you. Guess what?  If Johnny pitched 140 pitches this weekend and you have looked it up and are now saying how he may need Tommy John surgery in the future- It's none of your business. Nunya. If you are looking up another kid's outing and making conclusions- maybe you are over the top and need to stay in your lane. If you are checking stats and worrying about the "future" of your kid and if they are keeping up, guess what- YOU may be the problem. It's a game. The best thing to do is to quiet the noise and as we tell our own children- Don't worry about what everyone else is doing!

• GC is an amazing tool but don't forget the good stuff. Yes, if you've made it this far reading this blog, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you are a crazy baseball/softball fan just like I am. GC is a godsend to us when you use it in the right way. But at the end of the day let's remember why we all do this. GC doesn't tell us the important things. Like, "Remember, this field has that BBQ joint with the best food we've ever had." That field sells the funnel cake fries. Oh man, remember that tournament when we all stayed up until 3am and went to karaoke and were dragging the next day. Remember that game where the coach got ejected and the umpire went nuts?  Awwww, that was the field when all the little siblings got covered in mud and we lost them.  Not sure about you. But stuff like that is the meaning of life. I look at the picture of me on the mound up above and I can't tell you a single play I made in that game, but I sure can remember my parents being there cheering to high heavans no matter how I did- and those memories will forever be in my mind- not the numbers or stats. It's the good stuff and why I love this game so much.

Here’s to 2019!

This. This right here is what we want people to see. A happy, put together family ready to set sail on a fabulous vacation. And if you are anything like me at first you are happy for us and then you might yell to your hubby, “Did you see the so and so’s are off on a Disney cruise?” And he may reply, “Must be nice to be the so and so’s.” Or maybe that's just me every time I see people off on an adventure. I wonder what the hell we are doing wrong- living in Northern Virginia trying not to live above our means, making more money than we ever imagined and it still not being enough. LOL.

But let me tell you about reality. This is a family that loves and loves hard. This is a trip admittedly so our littlest gets to experience Disney like our older kids did five hundred times before her big brother starts high school next year and puts an end to our during the school year trips.

This is also a family who has had the hardest year of their lives. Well, maybe not the whole family, but the Mama Bear. A year where she watched her Dad wither away as he battled cancer and eventually lost the fight. A year that her husband was diagnosed with Graves Disease and made marriage trying to say the least putting that through sickness and health vow to the test. I mean when your hubby is a pilot and can’t fly for six months due to his health, things get a little stressful- especially when that’s what puts a roof over your heads. A year where she gained even more weight because queso momentarily solved her problems. A year where after being a stay at home mom for fourteen years and absolutely loving it-her youngest chick flew the coup and this left the mother questioning what her purpose in life was.

This is a Mom who finally had to ask for help and who is so thankful for friends and family that have supported her. Who have understood her moods, silences, flakiness, and battles and been nothing but encouraging and supportive.

This Mom is me. And before Christmas I walked into my primary care doctor and had a meltdown on the exam table. I cried and I said how I was dreading the holidays without my Dad. I cried I was upset with my weight and my health issues caused by it. And let me tell you how amazing my doctor was. He looked at me, offered me a box of tissues, and said, "Look, you are probably on social media and you see all these people saying how excited they are for the holidays and how perfect their lives are. I treat half the ladies around here. Lies. It's all lies. You don't know how many people are miserable." Ahhhhhhhhhh just the right words when I really, really needed them. He did then also look at me and say, "It looks like your get up and go has just gotten up and left," which was also true.

So why am I sharing?  Because I am the woman you see in this picture. I am happy. I love my life, I love my familiy with all of my heart and soul, and sometimes- believe it or not- I do have it all put together.  And this past year has made me realize that sometimes, it's just OK to not be OK.  It's simply OK.

Sometimes the best thing to do is to ask for help and to silence the noise. I logged off Facebook all through Christmas because I just didn't want to see a bunch of happiness. I know- crazy, but I'm back in a good place and am trusting that 2019 can't possibly be worse than 2018.

So if you took the time to read this, know that yes, we suck as we head off to warmth. The cruise is paid for because that stinkin' hubby has this whole excel budget thing that annoys the crap out of me  and yes, I might be headed back to work after fifteen years of staying at home to pay for some of the kid's crap. Man, I should have thrown that retirement party years ago. Also know that the rest of this cruise it will be a constant fight about dressing nice, having table manners, who gets the top bunk, and this list goes on and on.... because though I may post pictures of our perfect life, behind it all we are a hot mess and it doesn't have to be perfect to be perfect.

To those that are ok with being real- You are my people.

Bon Voyage!

Fit 4 Sport LLC

I'm a mom. Like a straight up mom- just over here trying to get through the day, keep my kids alive, my house in order, and make sure we have enough matching socks to make it through the day- and it helps if the socks are clean because my family has a problem with stinky feet. Woo Wee.


Sometimes friends ask me to blog. I always say no because I really don't do this professionally. I mean I'm the queen of run on sentenaces, bad grammar, and foul language. But, a friend recently asked, and I'm happy to write for her because she is a lady that serves our community and helps me in life more than she knows.


Meet Lee Ann Skinner, owner of Fit 4 Sport LLC. She's often on the sidelines of Upper Loudoun Football games, rehabbing Western Loudoun athletes, and watching her own rugrats compete. She's a sports Mama and "gets it".


Our kids are accident prone. Three broken arms, a stress fracture in the foot, sprained ankles galore, broken bone in the hand, Osgood Schlatter's, a shoulder throwing injury, and most recently a broken hip- We've had our fair share of injuries. I mean I'm not even including the bruises and kinks my borderline hypochondriac daughter has had where she thought she was dying or the hospital visits for real growing pains requiring x-rays. I should buy stock in the orthopedic industry. I should, but all my money goes to kid's activities. In fact, my daughter has been complaining of a thumb injury for two weeks now, but I'm being the bad mom yelling, "You have to ice it and take advil," and saying silent prayers it heals up on its own because right now I just can't even. Do you ever think to yourself, "Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away." I hope I'm not the only one.


Sooooo... all these things led us to Lee Ann. She's our doctor, physical therapist, psychologist, sounding board, and friend.  She knows her craft and is good at what she does. I mean when I tell my kids to ice and stretch, they look at me like I have three heads, but if Ms. Lee Ann says that they listen.


When one of our kids needed PT, it was going to be a huge hassle. Missing school to attend appointments- And that meant cutting into Mama's alone time and lunching with friends... I mean that meant missing valuable learning time... and it was a pain. Lee Ann works with clients around school and practice schedules. She sends reports that are so smart sounding it's scary- The woman is as intelligent as they come, and then she also "dumbs" it down and puts things into Layman's terms so we can understand.


Above all else, Lee Ann is invested in her families and clients. When my son was in excruciating pain and I just couldn't deal, she didn't kill me when I crossed the patient/provider relationship and messaged her at midnight begging for her to tell me it was going to be okay. And when my son just had to talk to Ms. Lee Ann, she let us call her... for him to say, "Ms Skinner, when I lay down it hurts."  I guess telling mom wasn't good enough and he just needed another Mama to reassure him it was going to be okay.  LOL.


Fit for Sport LLC has done so much for our family. When we're not sure if we need to get an x-ray, Lee Ann will say, "Swing by my house and I'll let ya know if you need to go in."  And when we want to slack on PT because we feel injuries are heeled, she'll have sessions with our kids and give detailed programs for them to follow on their own- allowing us to cheap out- I mean save money. And when our kids are legitimately hurt, we trust her for the most professional and quality care. We value her opinion, will listen when she says "Don't play" because we respect her expertise, and know that our kids are in good hands and will be on the field in no time with her rehab treatments. And let's be real. She welcomes my children into her home for care, gets them sweaty, and puts up with those stanky McCullers feet.


The next time your kid has an injury, make sure you check out Fit 4 Sport LLC- but don't do it too much and take my time slot!

Midlife Meltdown

2018 has not been my year. I'm soooo ready to ring in 2019, like yesterday. I mean, my dad passed away from cancer, my hubby was diagnosed with Graves Disease and couldn't fly for months (ummmm hello, our source of income), our daughter was injured, our son just fractured his hip, I sent my baby off to kindergarten, and I turned 40. The big 4-0 and it was like overnight I had gray hair and crows feet. Ugh.

It sucks. I went from being this frazzled, always a hot mess and running around, never showered, stay at home mom with little kids to this hot mess, never showered woman that has no idea what she wants to be in life. I don't have kids hanging off me all day. I'm not filling up Ziploc bags with cheerios and goldfish for snack bags, or waking up to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and by golly I miss it.  Where did the time go?

Now, I have these three humans that are capable... but not capable enough and I think they think my occupation in life is to be a nag. "Did you put your face medicine on? Did you hang up your bookbag? Did you put on deoderent Do you have homework? Did you scrub your butt? Like I mean for real, did you get up in that crack and scrub?"  Yep, I'm a nag. And I worry. Have I done enough to give these hoodlums a good heart and strong values. Are they kind? Are they little shits? Is the Good Lord telling up to slow down? Oh, I worry.

So today, for one of the first times in my life, I felt myself going in a dark hole. Sure, I have grumpy, blue, mean mugging PMS'ing days... but I've been fortunate to never battle serious depression. When I shut myself in the basement to binge watch Wicked Tuna, not respond to the sweetest texts from friends, cry about my weight and life, I realized I need to get it together. Winter is coming and it would be real easy for me to scarf down two burgers and a plate of fries and pass that 200lb mark and go into a real tailspin and that's not gonna happen folks. I need to get my groove back.

Don't you worry, Brendan's not going to come home to find out I bought a car, or have had a midlife crisis... although he may find a new front door... I kid, I kid. He may have to deal with me blogging again and pulling myself out of this rut. 2019 is too far away for a new start, it needs to happen now. And if you happen to want to follow along, I'll be oversharing- I mean blogging- again. This middle aged mama is about to take flight.

Mama brain dump...

Sports are our life. Our kids love them, we love them, and yes, we are one of those over the top obsessed families. There is nothing better than a weekend with beautiful weather, loading up the car with wagons and coolers, and heading off to a tourney at a new ballfield. It's bliss. Oh- and don't forget the sunscreen. Ya know, the sunscreen that always seems to cause a fight.  I mean, my kids know I'm going to make them wear it, so why put up the fight... every.single.weekend.

Some of our favorite people in the world are friends that have become like family through the sporting world. They know our day to day life, what we order at a restaurant, and all our little idiosyncrasies that make the world go 'round. So many of my favorite memories were made on a field or at a team hotel where we weren't "really" watching our kids- but that could be a whole different blog.

But I'm tired. So tired. While I still love youth sports with my whole heart and soul, they are bringing a whole different "keeping up with the Joneses" aspect to our culture and it sucks. It sucks the life out of kids, parents, and bank accounts.

I remember the day so clearly. I was in California with my daughter who plays 10u softball. Yes, you read that correctly. We traveled across the freaking country for a softball tournament for our 11 year old daughter. Nuts, right?  A little- though the memories were pretty priceless. Back to the story. That night, I was sitting on my hotel bed while my daughter was off running around the hotel with her teammates and I was scrolling through Facebook (as my hubby often says I do too often.) I came across a picture that stabbed me in my heart. Right in front of me, my entire family was throwing shells into the ocean on our annual family beach trip to honor my dad that had just passed away. My family beach week- the week I have gone to the beach with my entire big ass, loud family my entire life for... and here I was skipping it to watch my daughter play ball. What the hell was I thinking?

After that tournament, we hopped on a red eye and flew to Atlanta to see my son play in a baseball tournament. And after the 13 hour drive from hell home, I knew I had to hit the reset button.

How could some of the most priceless moments of watching my kids do what they love become so stressful.  I'll tell you how... After a disappointing season for my son we were in panic mode. Does he need to be weightlifting? Does he need his eyes checked? Does he need a sports psychiatrist for when he's on the mound? Does he need yoga before games?  You laugh, but these thoughts went through our head. Insane. I agree. So what did we do?

We pulled our daughter from the most amazing softball team ever and we signed our son up for football.

Sometimes in life, you just need to step away. Not because you don't love what you are doing, but because you just need fresh air. You need to come up for a breath. You need to NOT think about what is wrong and just have fun.  Because at the end of the day, that is what we all do this for, right? Fun.

Our son's hitting coach once said, "What is your goal?"  And then his advice was this:  "Your goal shouldn't be to be the best ten year old or best 13 year old out there. Your goal should be to work hard and be good when you are a junior or senior or beyond and only if you love it."

The most refreshing thing ever came from a dad this fall at football practice. His son will be playing division 1 baseball in the spring- if he's not drafted... He said, "My son never played fall baseball. It was always football in the fall, baseball in the spring." Guess what, just like the "olden days" when I grew up, and I'd that kid is on to something.

So true. And after a step away from it all, I've realized my goal as a mother is to raise good kids. Good at heart. Kids that are good at what they want to do.  And the funny thing is, the second we took a step back from it all, at night I'm hearing the ball pound the wall in the basement more than ever from our son hitting off a tee. I'm able to put dinner on the table because practices are closer. Ok, not every night, but a few. And this weekend, we will be loading up the car to drive to a field. To guest play with a team full of kids our son adores. And this Mama isn't going to stress, because I've got to learn it is what it is. And I'll promise you one thing... I won't forget the sunscreen.

Thankful. So very Thankful.

People that know me know that I'm fragile right now. I'm on the struggle bus. I mean, let's face it, I've never been a strong woman in the first place. I mean I cry at the drop of a hat. Lately I feel like I should tell the folks at preschool that I'm not hungover and I don't have a problem because I know I look rough when I walk into dropoff. It just seems that every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday on the way to take Ellie to Preschool that just seems to be my time to "lose it." I don't know what it is, but something triggers me to cry then... and when I reach the 7-eleven I have to give myself a big pep talk and say, "Shelley, we're about to come into town, pull yourself together girl and get a grip."  There's just no way around it. Cancer sucks.

It makes you question everything. I stay up at night googling treatment options and what chemo does, and then every night I'm just cursing whoever invented google because I just need to stay far, far away from it. I worry about what my dad is thinking and how scared he must be and I stress about my mom. And the list goes on. And the horrible thing is... the one and only thing I crave is normalcy. Life before the c word existed.

But today is Thanksgiving.  And I'm going to be Thankful.

Today I'm thankful for friends that have reached out to me. Friends that send random texts checking in on him. Friends that have dropped off dinners or offered to take my kids when I needed it. Friends that listen. Friends that send cards, mailed surprises, messaged me and made me smile, and friends that force this homebody to get out of the house to do things- even when I don't want to.  I'm thankful for friends that message me about diets, meet me for walks, and friends that make me register for races and hold me accountable- friends that believe I can do things even when I don't. Oh, and friends that meet me for queso. I love me some queso.

Today I'm thankful for family. I'm thankful for in-laws that are amazing. I'm thankful for aunts, uncles, cousins- and all of the other blood relatives beyond that I just refer to as cousins because our family is so close and I don't know what you are so I just say cousin. Family is everything.

I'm especially thankful for this crazy crew that was up in freezing temps to cheer for me this morning. They are my heart and soul, my everything.

And today, though we may be fighting this ugly beast of cancer and it's never far from our minds, I am so, very thankful for the gift of time. I am thankful for precious moments and the unconditional love that my parents have always given me- even during that 6 or 7 year stint when I was a mean teenager. Sorry about that. :)

And most of all, I'm thankful for a Dad that always, no matter what, has always kept his promises.

 

I did it. Thanks for always being there Mom and Dad and for being my biggest cheerleaders. I love you.