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!
Monday, October 15, 2018
Wednesday, September 19, 2018
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.
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.
Thursday, August 30, 2018
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.
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.
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