I couldn't tell you the score of most of those games now, but I remember the feeling of them. The parents, even at the college level, clustered together. The groan that went up all at once when someone missed wide. That was collective joy before I had a name for it.

And now I'm the one on the sideline again, except this time it's my own son out there, who loves this sport with his whole chest. In his short life, he’s played several seasons of soccer, some more competitively than others. He knows player stats I've never heard of. He has Opinions about formations. Watching him watch the World Cup, completely lit up, narrating every play like he's part of the broadcast, has been its own kind of joy this summer, a full-circle one.

It's (almost) July 4th again. America is 250 years old, and I find myself in the same place I have been the last several years on this day: deeply, fiercely proud, and equally, concerned about the state of our country. Both things. Always both things. If you've been here a while, you know that about me. So grab your coffee, settle in, and let's talk Hamilton again. Because honestly? The musical keeps giving.

But here's the thing about chaos: you find your footing eventually. Not through a complete life overhaul, but through a weird, specific, deeply personal collection of small things that just work.

So here it is. Just the honest, slightly unhinged list of what's actually getting me through this summer…

 I meditate. I move my body before 6am voluntarily. I read actual, physical books. I have a loose but functional routine that makes me feel like I'm finally, finally, finally giving that Main Character Energy. 

Spoiler: It is now (checks calendar) June 8, aka Summer. And I have not become her.

In a world that often tells women to quietly step aside and make room, this movie had something very different to say about that. Noted. Bookmarked. Framed on my metaphorical wall. 

You have notes. You have highlighters. You have a coffee in a travel mug that you are gripping like it is the only thing tethering you to this earth. You pull your coffee a bit closer as the first acronymed person (AP, LLSP, ARD Facilitator, OT, the list goes on) calls the meeting to order.

Welcome to IEP season, friend. Pull up a chair.

Leaning into uncertainty with absolutely no guarantee that things will work out…other than a steadfast belief that this was the right path. And at every turn, the door kept being flung wide open. While we’re certainly still in a season of transition and change, I do know that by leaning into my courage and truly embracing the new journey our entire family is on, we all are stronger and better because of it.

As a Mom of neurodiverse children, I remember the first time that I read his definition and research. Something clicked. I sat back and thought, “this is it. This is that feeling that I can’t put into words when people ask me how I do (FITB) when it comes to parenting and fighting for what my kids need and what feels like endless meltdowns. THIS is the hope that I feel.”

When I am struggling the most and feel like I am literally drowning in responsibility, tasks, the weight of leadership, advocating, navigating grief, and the list can go on - this statement grounds me so much. It’s the reminder that no matter what, the tide always comes in. There is still order to be found in this life, as disordered as it may feel at times.

My Grandpa enjoyed ice cream - he loved it in fact! He worked everyday outside in his workshop and around the acres that he lived on until he died in 2018 and almost every night, he’d have a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream.

The holidays are here, which means joy, twinkle lights, matching pajamas…and also sensory overload, packed suitcases, delayed flights, Great Aunt Judy asking why your child still won’t eat her famous casserole, and your stress levels sitting somewhere near the North Pole. It’s just really magical, isn’t?! Traveling with neurodiverse kids, whether by road or by plane, isn’t just about packing the right snacks or entertainment. It’s about planning for regulation: your child’s and yours. Because your energy sets the tone. And if your nervous system is fried, well, your child will feel it.

Music has the power to change the mood in a room with the drop of a note. It can take you from feeling glum to joyful to reflective to just plain happy. Music is almost always one of the things that is saving my life…along with coffee, of course. 

However, for me, that way of celebrating the holidays does not necessarily bring me joy. In fact, as I have gotten older with more work responsibilities, running a part time business, and the kids are getting a bit older (I.e. the Older one wants to be a YouTuber for Halloween which requires ZERO costume prep for me so rock on, my dude), it feels like there’s more pressure on Moms to make the holiday magic even MORE. And friends, I for one, am just not buying that message anymore.

One of the points that stuck with me the most was how important collective joy is essential to our wellness. In a society and nation that feels more and more divided, I couldn’t agree more. So, as we headed into the fall season, I decided to really lean into cultivating experiences full of collective joy. 

And because you know I always keep it really, really real over here, there are some days where finding the glimmers are super hard. Yesterday was one of them. It was the suckiest of days. And since I’m still working on not “gratituding” everything, I know it’s okay to say that out loud. Some days are just sucky and really hard. On those days I try to be extra gentle with myself and my family because I think we all need it. And on those days when I can’t find glimmers…

Before I step foot onto my child’s campus, I remind myself of one of my favorite sayings: “Do no harm. Take no bull.” The truth of these words grounds me and reminds me of a few things. It’s easy for parents and schools to feel like they’re on opposite sides of the table. But here’s the truth: most educators want to help—they’re just bound by systems, time, and resources.

When Taylor Swift said, “You should think of your energy as if it’s expensive…”, I literally stopped what I was doing — not because of the words themselves, but because the sentiment hits home for anyone who's ever felt stretched thin. Especially moms.

This week was our son’s final basketball game for his summer league and while his team was warming up, I had a few minutes to reflect. Not Forever isn’t just about taking a deep breath to remind myself not to lose my crap with my kids and husband. It’s not just about reminding myself that I won’t always feel so exhausted as we near the end of yet another season and I just want to cry because my mental load is so heavy. It is about those things and so much more. But this week I also found myself remembering that the idea of “Not Forever” is also about savoring the moments like the basketball game.