We love puns and Cape Ann and being super. Welcome to our blog.
Tickets to the NHL playoffs. Romantic weekends away. Ok. Maybe not. I don’t think it works that way. Unless you are on the Bachelorette. So, I started thinking about how it would work if I wanted to start dating.
I was driving home from Ben’s baseball practice on Tuesday night and my phone rang. It was my dad. Weird. My dad never calls me. I knew when that phone rang that what he was going to say must be important.
For as long as I can remember Wednesday nights have been it. I’ll admit it. It isn’t really super convenient. Mid-week. Hump day. Work in the AM. But I’ll take it.
Do you know what one of my biggest fears was when I was pregnant with triplets? Group think. I was worried that these three little individual beings would lose their identity because they were “the triplets.” Worried they would be grouped into the same category. Worried that people wouldn’t bother learning their names because there are three of them! It kept me awake with anxiety some nights.
There is something magical about Opening Day in Boston. For me, it’s always been like a holiday.
We have a societal narrative that your own personal creativity should be marketable, have its own Instagram account, followers, sell prints, books, your creations should be consumed. But what about creating just because it brings you joy?
Ben’s hockey season officially ended when they lost the championship game a couple of weeks ago. But the real highlight of the season happened at the end of the year banquet earlier this week.
Every so often I go through moments in my life where I need to prove to myself that I am still me, Will, an individual and not just a provider for others. Simply not an organic robot going through the motions of life.
Fine. You got me. I’m not a good free-range parent. Like not even a little bit. I’ve even been called a helicopter mom.
Alright. I know you’ve thought it. At some point in learning that I have three children the same age and a child with extra needs, you’ve been curious about the day to day around here. (And if you’re just finding this out for the first time: hi, I have 8 year old triplets and a 5 year old with global delays, nice to meet you.)
I’m sure you’ve had that wish to be a fly on my wall at one point. Just a little peek into the potential craziness you’re imagining. I’ve got good news and bad news.
Summertime and the living's easy. Right? Ok Sublime. Not for everyone.
As a former Division 1 athlete, I feel like it’s okay for me to comment on the latest NCAA basketball scandal. In case you haven’t been paying attention, more than 20 of the nation’s top athletic programs were implicated in possibly breaking NCAA rules. Including my alma mater, Seton Hall. WTF. What an embarrassment.
Aaaah. February Vacation. Palm trees, toes in the sand, sunshine and drinking adult beverages out of a coconut. Insert record scratching here. Not for Team Scola. Our February break was filled with highways, hockey and hot coffee. The worst part being the hot coffee. Yuck.
Being a positive, grateful person takes work and practice. Gratitude is a feeling. By putting those feelings out into the universe, you open yourself up to other positive experiences like finding your half-orange.
We are Patriots fans and last year I did something that my 8-year-old son refuses to let me forget. I made him go to bed at halftime of Super Bowl LI. Yup. That Super Bowl. The one where the Patriots completed the greatest comeback in Super Bowl history.
