I’d Rather Been Hit by a Volleyball…

Saturday volleyball tournaments mean early mornings, lots of snacks and an onslaught of flying volleyballs sure to smack you in the head when you least expect it. But this past Saturday, I was knocked off my feet not by a volleyball, but by a host of old hurts, suppressed feelings and long-standing anger. As my…

Who Am I?

I had just climbed bleachers to watch my daughter’s volleyball practice when I experienced an identity crisis. As crises go it was mild, but as far as questioning the purpose of one’s existence it was intense. First of all, if you’re a mom and your kids plays sports or participate in any other extra-curricular activities,…