Little Skater Boy

Woodloch Pines has an ice rink.

Well - it isn't real ice. It is some sort of plant-based plastic, which is why we were able to skate on it at the end of June during 90 heat. 

Since he could walk, Nick has shown a love for any and all sports - but hockey is most particularly his favorite. My little buddy gets so excited when "HA" comes on the TV. He has his very own stick, and we often catch him stick handling in the family room, setting up "goals" with two toy cars and shooting one of his rubber balls through. He even celebrates and yells "goal" when he shoots one through successfully.

It just so happened that our hockey-loving baby and an ice rink were in the same place at the same time, so we did what any hockey parents would do - we put our Bubs on skates! 

I wish I had been able to capture his excitement when he saw me walk towards him with a pair of skates. "Kate! Kate!" My little guy, who struggles with so many of his words, found the words to express his excitement. 

We took all four of them skating at young age. Rosie went for the first time on her second birthday. RJ and Angelina for their third. All three of them struggled with even walking on skates. Not Nicky Blue Eyes. He got those skates on his feet and confidently strode in the direction of the door. He was ready! 

Unlike his siblings before him, Nick took to the ice like a natural. He had no problem staying upright and moving around with confidence. In fact, he was so capable in the skates themselves, we handed him his stick:

He was in heaven!

Nick needed hardly any coaching - and was even able stop a puck with his stick and shoot it at Uncle Billy.

I'm so grateful to have shared this moment with my parents, brother and sister-in-law! 

Unbiological Sisters

On Saturday night, we took the stage and closed our 2017-2018 Dance season. It was a whirlwind of recitals over a span of 26 hours - but as always, it was loads of fun.

Our little family had a special moment to close the Saturday night performance. Back in February, we were asked to be part of a mother-daughter dance. My first thought was "but I have more than one daughter - how will this work?" Once that question was answered, my next thought was "it feels weird to be doing this without Emma."

Yes - she is someone else's daughter. She isn't mine. I didn't birth her - but I love her with all of my heart and soul. Her DNA and biological makeup means nothing - because she is a piece of my heart. Of course, she was away at school, so participation wasn't possible.

We met with three other families several times over the next few months - and Karen Daniels put together a piece that tugged at the heart strings and pretty much made me cry at every rehearsal. We selected dresses in a variety of colors and each family had our own color. We performed on Friday and Saturday during the matinee - and the whole time, there was just something missing for me.

I asked Karen if Emma could join us for just the end of the piece - she was already dressed in a color-coordinating outfit and we knew how to bring her in. Karen said she would discuss it with the staff - who know Emma, her father, our story and me all so very well - so they voted to have her join us.

The result was a moment I will never forget.

She joined us just for the last few seconds of the song - Rosie's outstretched hand reached for her, and Emma took it and joined us, smiling all the way. For a moment, the audience was lost in the lights and I swear I saw her father's smile.

Unbiological sister.

It is a term Rosie coined regarding Emma during our rehearsal process. She and Angelina both questioned Emma's exclusion from rehearsals. School got in the way, but once she was home, not having her in our routine felt just as weird for her too.

Biology is only part of a bond between sisters. Love, devotion, friendship and trust cover far more ground than DNA - and we are blessed in this house to have a combination of both biology and "unbiology" to form our happy family.

Unbiological. Family by choice.

It explains us so well.