Whitney

It's Festivus… for the rest of us!

I remember as though it was yesterday, me, so confident that the blessing I now call Riley was going to be a girl. A girl I could dress up in pink, bows, and animal print. One that I could take shopping and we'd just have a girlie old time together.

But, alas, he was to be a boy. I panicked. What in the WORLD would I do with a boy? I was soon comforted with the fact that everyone says little boys love their mama's and I felt that I could pass on my love for football and hockey to this little man.  What hockey loving mom doesn't want to have their very own Mike Modano, Brett Hull, Jere Lehtinen, or Sidney Crosby one day?

He had plans of his own. He has no interest in football except to gleefully and impishly cheer for any team playing the Giants or the Sooners (meanie). From an early age I took him ice skating and he refused to step on the ice. Scared, I forced him out there and pushed him while he dangled limp from my arms. He spent most of that time screaming to get him OFF the ice. Hearbroken, I've sat through ridiculously hot tee ball games in the middle of summer and pretended to be interested in 4 year old soccer games at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings, all the while dreaming that one day Riley would get the urge to jump on the ice and play.

Hallelujah, it has FINALLY happened. This morning, on the way to school, Riley said "Mama, I want to take ice skating lessons." I about passed out (luckily, however, I maintained control of the vehicle in the midst of my shock). "Umm, absolutely, I'll sign you up today" was my response. And you betcha I'm doing it. RIGHT NOW. And soon ... very soon ... I'll be wearing my crown of hockey mom. Yes, folks, I have experienced my very own Festivus miracle.