Dreams do come true.

This was just going to be a Facebook post, but then I realized it would be a really long Facebook post.  And, really, it was meant to be a blog post.  It all started with all the kindergarten postings. Those kindergarten postings make you start thinking about how far you’ve come.

Kindergarten Collage.jpg

This year is different.  I have a kid going to kindergarten and it means that I have a bunch of friends whose kids are going too.  When I looked at the many postings of the first day, I sat back and said thank you.  I also cried because I knew how much this day meant.  Most of these postings are from friends I have made along the motherhood path.

From infertility support groups to birthing classes to my first mothers group, all of the women in my Facebook feed have been a part of the tribe.  We compared breastfeeding notes, commiserated over nap transitions and discussed childcare options. We didn’t always agree, but we gave each other ideas.   None of us knew what were doing-and we still don’t.  Heck, I just learned yesterday that you can trade the toy in at Chick-Fil-A for an ice cream cone.

Seriously, some of the women I have never met in person.  Some we worked together briefly.  Some we still get together when we can-which gets harder every year with the increasing activity schedules.   Yet, I love reading their posts every single day because I understand that motherhood is complicated.  You may love your child one minute and want to send them away the next.

For some, we never thought we would have a child.   Every September I would walk the dog past the local elementary school and cry — cry for the child I didn’t have and thought I would never have.   For at least a dozen of my friends on Facebook, I know they had those same thoughts. Look at us now, we have kindergarteners!   And, in some twist of fate, my OB joined a new medical group and I was reminded of the many futile appointments that I once had.


It took us four years to have our first child.  Now that we are in the thick of parenting I forget about those days.   Mainly because I don’t have time, but also it doesn’t matter.  If you want to be a parent, there are so many ways today to achieve it–fostering, adoption, egg donor, IVF.    In my Facebook feed every one of those is represented.

For all of you gals who I’ve met along the way, thank you.  Thank you for the kindness, the inspiration and for being the amazing women you are.  I’m so glad we are traveling this road together.  I wouldn’t have it made it this far without you.

P.S. This post is  especially dedicated to one special friend, and she’ll know why just from the title.

P.P.S.  Now to really make her cry..

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what’s on the other side
Rainbows are visions
But only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide

So we’ve been told
And some choose to believe it
And I know they’re wrong, wait and see
Some day we’ll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me

And who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
And somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
And look what it’s done so far

What’s so amazing
That keeps us stargazing
And what do we think we might see
And someday we’ll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers, and me

All of us under its spell
We know that it’s probably magic

Have you been half asleep?
And have you heard voices?
And I’ve heard them calling my name
This is the sweet sound
That called the young sailors?
The voice might be one in the same

And I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it
It’s something that I’m supposed to be
Someday we’ll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

La da da di da da dum da
Someday we’ll find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

La da da di da da dum da
Duh da da di dum di da ohhh

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Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Walt Disney Music Company, Universal Music Publishing Group

Hockey All the Time

Back before kids, it was hockey all the time.  I met my husband while learning to play.  The only way to get better was to go skating, play pickup and be on as many teams as possible to get maximum ice time.  Our weekends were crazy, driving from one rink to another and hoping that the gear would dry on the way.

Now, if we are lucky,  we play together once or twice a month.  It’s definitely what we prefer.  We’ve been on the same line for thirteen years now.  He at center and me on right wing.  When one of us is not there, it just isn’t the same.   Our left wing has been with us just along.  When all three of us are actually on the ice at the same time, it is a thing of beauty.

Sometimes I question my sanity for still playing hockey.  Last night was one of those nights.  Thankfully it was an early game [715], though I often prefer games after the kids’ bedtimes to ease the guilt of taking time for myself.   It was a close game when one of my teammates [another gal] took an intentional hit and went down.  Mind you, this is beer league, aka non-checking league.  She came off the ice a bit shaken. She had hit her head and her tailbone.  The game continued much in the same vein.

I play co-ed hockey for a reason [a lot less drama and cliques], and the game is just more intense.  However, I am not playing to get hurt.   Most of the folks on the ice have jobs and families.    I was a bit more cautious for the rest of the game, still trying to make plays but trying to avoid unnecessary contact.  To me the only bad night of hockey is the one that ends up in the emergency room.

Driving home, after a quick beer, it was clear to me why I still play, even at the risk of injury. Hockey makes me feel alive.  The hour on the ice is a chance to be me.  It represents who I have become–someone willing to learn to play at the age of thirty-three and start writing a new chapter in her life.   I was newly divorced, looking to meet someone who liked hockey.     If it wasn’t for hockey and the San Jose Sharks, I wouldn’t have three kids and a dog named Zamboni.

With that, I’ll leave you with my hockey and relationship wisdom for the day.

Late night hockey is like sex. You may think you are tired, but the end game is always worth it.

P.S.  I may just skip the 11:30pm game on Friday–my husband can play that one.