You've Come a Long Way, Baby!

Thirteen years ago, this precious little package arrived weighing about the same as a loaf of bread. Who knew what to expect? He seems to be attempting a smile here, decked out in a crocheted hat to maintain his body temperature, a feeding tube which allowed him nourishment since his stomach wasn't ready to handle real food, and, of course, his breathing tube that connected him to the ventilator because his little lungs weren't quite ready to breathe on their own 100% of the time. Bradycardia was a term I quickly learned!

So we held our breath for 17 weeks and learned the real meaning of "one step forward, two steps back." My house phone (the only phone we had at the time)was on speed dial to the Kennestone NICU, and the nurses knew my voice as soon as they picked up. We held our breath and waited for little bits of progress, little bits of hope, all the while reminded by those wise folks not to get too excited-- the road ahead was still a long one.

But that road ended, thankfully, and they let us take him home. So we began a journey down another road, which meant we were in charge! No more nurses watching his vital signs, bathing his tiny body, or starting him breathing again when, while sucking and swallowing his bottle, he forgot to breathe! But we learned and so did he. He grew and so did we, in confidence, faith, and so much more.

And he grew, and grew, and grew some more into a teenager today who makes me so proud I can't put it into words. Thirteen years ago a very kind doctor gave me some statistics about babies who are born 15 weeks too early. He wanted to prepare me for whatever challenges or obstacles Tanner might face. I still have the sheet of paper where I frantically jotted down whatever my mind could take in at the time. I was ready for anything-- I just wanted to be able to take him home from the hospital. I knew we could handle whatever God threw at us, statistics and all.

This is what He threw our way:

I'm so proud of this boy sometimes I think my heart will burst. He makes good grades, loves his sports, hangs around with some awesome friends, babysits like a champ. This fragile preemie i couldn't believe they let me bring home with an oxygen machine, an O2 monitor, and a heart rate monitor plays linebacker! He fishes and rides bikes, and spends the night at friends' houses. He never looks back.

I guess that's what you learn when you spend 17 weeks staring out the windows of a hospital room. Life is precious. Life is fun. Life is meant to be enjoyed and laughed at and lived full force. It may have taken him almost four and a half months, but once he made it out he's made every minute matter. That's what he's taught me.

Life is a gift, and I'm so glad God gave me you!

Oh, how I love this guy! Look at that passion, that intensity, and it's 12u football! He loves those boys in front of him, knows where each one's strength lies, and in his spare time plots ways to make them better as individuals and as a team.

Um, yes, if you've been on the sidelines you know he yells, but he's also the first to pat a back, wrap up in a hug, and wrap an ankle or a knee when needed.

And he's proud of them. Every day. Every game. Every practice that they work, learn, prepare, repair, and build. He's so proud of them, and this will be his last season to coach them. Next year he will try to be a spectator only as they move from Saturday afternoons to Thursday games after school. But what a great season we've had with great boys, coaches, cheerleaders, parents, and exciting games when we won and lost.


I can't think of a better way to spend my Saturday than watching these Blue Dragons:

Thanks to Mike Mingus and Judy Nelms for ALWAYS capturing the best pictures!

Tuesday Night Lights

Several years ago I started this little blog in an attempt to capture all the fun and fabulous moments that came with being a family of five. Along the way we added another little guy and this blog still exists to highlight all the fun and fabulous things that come from being a family of six! When I pondered what to name this online project of mine, well, it seemed obvious. We are definitely a football family and will always be one. With four boys in the house, do I really have a choice? Good thing I love it.

Three of my four boys currently don the traditional gear several nights a week in an effort to get better, enjoy being part of a team, and entertain me. And entertain they do! I love watching them improve their skills, grow in confidence, and even handle some rough life lessons. They win, they lose, they know how to watch film! They have learned to be humble when called for, resilient after a tough loss, and encouraging to a player needing a pat on the back.

They learn to trust their coaches and trust themselves. They have learned that to get better requires work- and no one else can do it for them. They get so much more than exercise when they step on that field, whether it's the practice field or the game field; Whether the stands are packed or they're performing for no one.

I hope they play forever. I hope they remember every minute of every practice, every game, every pep talk, every teammate, every banner they break through. I hope they look back and remember every tackle they made, every touchdown they scored, every pass they caught. I hope they don't need pictures to remember, but if they do Coach Sorrow has given us all a perfect one. Most of all, when they remember, I hope they remember a hundred glorious nights just like Tuesday night. I know I will.

Two big pieces of my heart are out there; but that's a picture of a team with a whole lot of heart.

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You're the One that I Want, you are the One I want, ooh ooh ooh!

I saw a Facebook post today of all days that urged folks to make realistic anniversary and wedding announcements rather than the mushy, gushy, sappy ones Hallmark sells. Their example:

Ha! Well, thankfully, we're not in debt, so a few realistic words from my heart to his, on this, our 16th year as husband and wife.


You're the one I want grilling my steaks on Saturday nights.

You're the one I want at the finish line of all my races.

You're the one I want to tell each kid, "go ask your Dad."

You're the one I want changing the oil in my van.

You're the one I peel potatoes for, even though Ore-Ida has already done it for us in the frozen food section.

You're the one I want coaching my kids, whether it's on the sidelines or at third base.

You're the one I want to share my bank accounts with.

You're the one I want to share my passwords with. Two brains are better than one when it comes to I-tunes, Suntrust, etc.

You're the one I want to play, er lose, tennis with on lazy Sundays when you'd rather be watching golf.

You're the one I want to laugh with, because you still know what makes me chuckle.

You're the one I want to steal a quick dinner with now that we have a pretty reliable babysitter in the house.

You're my date to Home Depot, my secret- holder, my frustration release, my pinterest guinea pig.

You are my husband and my best friend and the world's greatest dad and the hardest working man I know.

You're the one I call mine, yesterday, today, tomorrow, and forever.

And I love you, Coach Kirk!

Short shorts and all!

14 years of Tucker

Fourteen years ago, I gave birth to an 8 pound 4 ounce bundle of boy. I changed a few diapers, tossed a few footballs, read a TON of books, blinked and this guy:

Became this guy:

He's taller than me, knows way more about World War II than me, pitches better than me, and knows just how to push his Daddy's buttons😉.

He loves sports,

Loves his brothers,

And has a sweet tooth that I'm ashamed to say comes honestly.


Fourteen years ago, I left my night class at MC and headed home to packed bags, boxes of baby accessories, and nervous jitters.

I had no idea what to expect, but I love what I got. And though there are days you drive me crazy, I wouldn't change a thing.


I love you, Tucker William Kirk, and will forever be your biggest fan!

Tru Love

Tru love is 7 pounds, 8 ounces of baby boy on a cold January morning.

He checks in with me most mornings at 3 am, just to snuggle I guess.

Tru love is someone to share a popsicle with on a hot summer day.

. . . is another guy to hang out in the man cave.

Tru love is big blue eyes, curly blonde hair, and a crooked tooth from a spill with a dishwasher.

He says Daaady and Dada and Da before he ever utters Mommy :)

Tru love is someone to play trains with in the afternoon.

Tru love is three boys who love their new baby brother as much as I do, and still fight over him one year later.

Tru love is this guy, who surprised all 5 of us but in the best way possible.

So we're doing it all over again: first football and baseball practices, potty training, first day of school, sight words, learning to ride a bike, tying shoes, and all those things we thought were done.

Happy Birthday to our true love: Tru K!