Last season, two of my boys went undefeated (like, didn’t lose a single game) and ended up winning the Tri-County Championship. Cue the victory laps, proud mum tears, and the delusional belief that I might be raising the next Connor McDavid.

Fast forward to this season, and let’s just say… the script has flipped. We’re learning the valuable art of losing gracefully… which, for the record, is a lot harder than it sounds. There’s been sighing, some stick-slamming, record-breaking penalty minutes and the occasional “the ref needs glasses” comment (from me, not them… allegedly). But honestly? This is the season that matters. Because life isn’t always undefeated, and I’m trying to raise kids who can handle the scoreboard when it’s not in their favour. Let’s just say, some are handling it better than others.

But first, we will rewind a bit. Somewhere between the dance studio with the $400 “winning” costume and the hockey rink that permanently smells like victory, sweat, and sadness, I made a quiet decision:

I’m not raising MVPs. I’m raising humans.

Messy, funny, hard-working, occasionally hormonal humans who know that showing up is half the battle. (Kristian and the 6am practices… pure joy).

Take Ryan, for example. My sweet little man made a select travel team this year… and do you know how? He just showed up to the tryout. No overthinking, no pressure, no expectation. He simply showed up, skated his heart out, and landed himself on a team surrounded by the most supportive coaches I’ve ever seen in my life. I counted six on the bench the other night. They’re pouring everything they have into these kids- teaching them discipline, teamwork, and how to carry themselves with pride, both on and off the ice.

They remind them constantly: You represent the Sabres wherever you go.

(Which, frankly, might be a message I need to have embroidered onto a pillow for Greyson. Just saying).

Then there’s Jai. My powerhouse who’s rediscovering her rhythm. After a little break, she’s back to dance and cheer, and realizing that yes, muscle memory is a thing… but it’s a slow, grumpy thing that doesn’t like being woken up after a long nap. She’s putting in the work, though, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that her grades have jumped right alongside her energy level. Turns out, when kids are busy doing things they love, they actually focus better. Who knew? (Every mother who’s ever driven to five practices in one day, that’s who.)

And then we’ve got my 2 B’s… Ben and Briar. My elite-athlete-everything-they-touch-turns-to-gold kids. But here’s the secret: it’s the moments when they don’t shine that I love the most. When they miss a beat, lose a game, or come in second. Because that’s when the grit shows up. That’s when the character builds. And apparently, that grit has spilled over into their schoolwork, because they’re putting in more effort, studying harder, and even (get this) helping Chris and me keep the household running smoothly.

Because here’s the truth: the dance costumes, the jerseys, the trophies… they’ll all end up in a trunk or a dusty closet someday. Heck, I still have mine shoved in the basement corner… maybe they’ll come in handy one day, who knows. But it’s the memories (the road trips, the hotel overnights, the too-late dinners, the post-loss pep talks, the laughter that comes from two brothers decompressing with their video games at night… okay and sometimes too late at night!)

I’m not raising kids to be the best on the ice or the stage. I’m raising kids who can handle a loss, try again, and still hold their head high. Kids who know that real wins come from effort, attitude, and character… not from whatever hangs around your neck at the end of the season.

So no, I’m not chasing MVPs. I’m chasing humble, hardworking, kind, and occasionally hilarious humans.

And if all else fails, at least they’ll have good stories, great memories, and a dad who knew how to cheer them up with a late-night “secret McDonald’s run”… and a mum who always pretended to “not know.” 🏆🍟