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!

Peachtree Proud

I've had to wait since July 4th to brag on this guy, and that's a long time for such a big accomplishment. Coach K. And I secured our Peachtree numbers way in advance, so when Tanners all-star baseball team clinched the district championship and headed to the state tournament, we had to drop back and punt.
During the summers, football Coach Kirk does double duty and wears the hat of baseball coach, so there was no way he was running a race and not a team on that Friday morning. By the way, who in Atlanta schedules anything at the same time as the world's largest 10K??

So the question then was, what do we do with our extra number? Peachtree Road Race numbers are coveted things, so I knew we could find someone to step in last minute. Tucker had a better idea- he wanted to run. I wasn't so sure at first. I mean the kid had never even done a 5K let alone a full 6.2 miles of heat, hills, and humidity through the streets of Atlant; But he really wanted to run the race, so early July 4th Tucker and I headed to the ATL to find a parking spot, a Marta station, and our corrals.

We started off strong, hoping to finish the race, head to Woodstock, and catch the last of Tanner's first game. Mile one came and went and we were strong. He was making me proud. Mile 2 he said he might walk a little. "You go on and I'll catch up with you," he said. HA! yeah right, like I'm going to leave you in the middle of Atlanta with 65,000 other runners and hope to see you at the finish. Let's go, Buddy! and with that we ran, walked, and jogged our way to Piedmont Park and all the goodies that awaited us.

I couldn't then and still can't begin to tell him how proud I am of him. I think he was pretty proud of himself, too. And who wouldn't be? You don't just get a PRR t-shirt for signing up and paying your money. You have to earn it and earn it he did, with a time of 1:08 on his first EVER 10K!

We ran together the whole way and I may have lost my spot in the B group for next year, but I am ok with that.

Because everyone needs a picture like this:

The Friendly Coach

Once upon a time, a coach was criticized by a parent, a die-hard, win-at-all-costs parent, for being "too friendly" with the players. "Friendly doesn't win ball games," he said. Friendly doesn't motivate and drive. Friendly doesn't get you anywhere. Sports teaches all kinds of valuable lessons-- I don't know if this is one of them.

Tonight as I type this, a young man is downstairs sleeping on our couch. Before he went to bed he had a hot supper, a warm shower, a fresh toothbrush, and a request for what kind of lunch he'd like for tomorrow. He also had a 5 year old wanting him to "sleepover."

Friendly may not win ball games, but it will take a homeless boy off the streets for a night.

Friendly may not get you the job and unfortunately the respect of some folks, but there are bigger folks we aim to please.

Tomorrow is Friday. Football games will be played and plenty of coaches will go home with a win. Names in the paper for how hard they coach; how hard they push; how far they will go this season. And it IS exciting and builds character.

But 4 years passes quickly and boys on the field become the men of the world. The things we accomplish as a "hard" coach will be forgotten: scores, tackles, bad calls. The things we accomplish as the "too friendly" coach will endure: love, kindness, and hope.

For our guest tonight, I hope he meets hundreds of other "too friendly" coaches along his way. I hope he always believes that another coach will come along when needed. And, of course, I hope one day he will BE that "too friendly" coach to another in need.


And I hope last night was the last night he will ever sleep in a baseball dugout to keep safe from the rain and storms.

But most of all, I hope he finds a home.


Lessons are learned every day on the field. A lot of them take place off the field, as well.