It all started with a book for Amanda Fitzsimmons.
That book led her to her first crystal. Let’s pause here. How many of us have hit an intersection in life at which we know we’re not in the right spot but we’re open to avenues to get there?
That’s where Amanda found herself, and the book, and the crystal.
That turned into more books, more crystals, and a realization of her healing power. Today’s #GirlsRock interview is of a different sort. She went from rock-star dreams as a little one to rocks that hold power.
Suddenly, we were friends on social media. Just a dad, with a blog. Just a woman, with a budding modeling career.
And a background in the National Guard. What’s more — what makes her an incredible choice for #GirlsRock and a perfect voice to support — is wisdom and drive that defy her age. No, that’s not right … drive and wisdom aren’t exclusive to the aged.
Rather, it’s for those who both have it within them, and seek to discover where the combination can lead them in life.
Bots. Bots would qualify in a post about the letter B. Dancing bots are a bonus. (Bonus, B too.)
Ever struggle to come up with a gratitude list? I have.
It doesn’t make you an ingrate. It’s tough sometimes to get creative, so I hope this A to Z Challenge will bring a little spark out in me. For Day 2, the letter, as you might predict, is B.
Let me explain. I’d been feeling as if the Coach Daddy name didn’t fit anymore. Like, I’d cycled out of it.
I’m still a coach.
I’m still a daddy.
I’m just not … Coach Daddy.
I drove to the restaurant where Camdyn works to pick her up after her shift one night. I pulled my flashy gray Hyundai into a parking space and texted her, as I do when picking up any of my girls: I’m here little one.
(They love when I do this.)
And I waited. There were tables to wipe down, or she forgot the Coke Zero (no ice) she always gives me for picking her up. And three boisterous women approached my car.
Well, one did – the other stayed back.
Are you our Uber? she asked in that too-loud voice that often accompanies a night of Bud Light tallboys. I laughed. Nah, I’m just a dad, I said.
Are you our Uber? she asked in that too-loud voice that often accompanies a night of. Bud Light tallboys. I laughed. Nah, I’m just a dad, I said.
I explained that I was there to pick up my daughter, who works there. You can all the way out here late at night to give your daughter a ride? She asked, swaying only a little now, because this was serious.
THAT IS SOOO SWEET!
You know when things are extra – funny, sad, anger-inducing, delicious, whatever – when we drink? Well, to her, this simple act of picking up a kid after a dinner shift felt like Dad O The Year material.
She smiled at me sweetly in that loving way that many of us do after the second margarita.
YOUR DAD IS SOOO SWEET! The lady told Camdyn as she walked to my car. Dad, those girls were SO drunk, Camdyn muttered after waving and smiling.
She’s right, you know, I told my kid. We drove off and they waved.
She has no idea she had just renamed my blog.
I am just a dad now, and that’s fine. I didn’t want to stop being my kids’ coach, but some things are out of our control. I coach a group of boys and girls who feel like my kids. But my teams always do.
As Just a Dad, I do cool shit. I drive my oldest to California … in three days … in a beat-up Subaru … with a cat in the backseat.
As Just a Dad, I’ll go to my middle daughter’s match in the middle of the week and get easily talked into Mexican food afterward. (Enchiladas = ❤️)
And I can pick up my daughter at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night. What else would I be doing? And if a tipsy chick wants to think that’s pretty all right, well … I’m good with that, too.
I’m hopping back into the #AtoZChallenge despite an overloaded schedule. I can do this. I need to do this.
I’ll start with “A – a new name.” Coach Daddy doesn’t fit any more. I’m still a coach, and I’m still a daddy … but there’s a new phase in life for me now.
I’ll keep this short and sweet. I look forward to telling you more, and writing more, and posting more, and talking to you in comments more. Also, to reading all the wonderful blogs in this challenge. The fun starts April 1.
What’s your name? Who’s your daddy? Is he rich like me? Has he taken any time to show you what you need to live?
What a way to follow up nostalgia – with more nostalgia.
After bringing back the 6 Words post on Monday, I’m digging out the Go Ask Daddy feature that used to be a fixture here. What’s next – terrariums and mustaches?
I keep a list of questions my kids have asked for – oh, the past couple of decades – and try to answer them every week.
Expect both the sacred and the profane. Or something about football rules or the human gut. It’s all fair game when it comes to Go Ask Daddy.
I’m watching Cobra Kai, and wow, do the memories come rushing back. I was a big Ali fan back then, in Karate Kid. Now, I kind of have a thing for Shannon, Robbie’s mom.
Here’s some more nostalgia: 6 words on Coach Daddy.
Remember these? I ask a friend, stranger, blogger, or strange blogger friend to answer a prompt in six words. Then, I publish everyone’s answers here in a post with a link to their blogs.
I encourage all participants to visit the blogs above and below their links. We tend to share this one a bunch, so we get more exposure, and exposure to more blogs. It’s like a co-op for writers.
“Tell everybody I’m on my way. New friends and new places to see. With blue skies ahead, yes I’m on my way.” — Phil Collins
Instagram feeds with global adventures often fuel a dream or two.
We see them, especially during a pandemic, and the wanderlust kicks in. Remember when we could? Thinking about how we would? But, lovely as they are, those are images only.
Today’s guest has a beautiful way of showing and telling about the adventures we miss – or long to experience.
Give a warm welcome to my friend Stephanie Miller, thelatest #GirlsRock interview. She’s the mind behind The Scenic Suitcase, a wonderful blog for travel. She delights in teaching readers to travel like an expert and experience the world like a local. Especially on cold, rainy, COVID-19 days like we’re having here today, a getaway is words away.
I says to myself tonight, I says … why don’t you write on your blog anymore?
You know, it’s the same thing … no time, I’m just so busy. Hell, I used to stay up until 3 a.m. to stay on a blog schedule. I once spent a morning in a donut shop near Fort Bragg with internet as strong as the coffee (not very) just to stay on a gosh-danged blogging schedule.
And now? If this blog was a goldfish bowl, it’d … well, all the goldfish would be dead.
So I’m grateful for the self-help kick in my own damned ass today to get going on a gratitude blog post. Just like that, it seems, you can go from ingrate to not-ingrate just by writing a damned blog post. Who knew? Not me, apparently.
Just a dad ... 