You know that old saying “that which doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger?” Super cliche. Super makes you want to roll your eyes when you hear it? Supper annoying? But also super true. I just finished a book last night in which the main character’s husband gets arrested for a murder he didn’t commit and as he’s being hauled away, her inner monologue was enough to make me want to take a long walk off a short pier. Granted, I’d had a pretty shitty, albeit entertaining, night. But it was all this dramatic, over the top “our family can’t survive without you” and “how will I go on” and I realize I’m a cynical bitch but the answer is YOU GO ON BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO. Because that which does not kill us only makes us stronger.

What, you may ask, is making a fine attempt at killing me but really just making me stronger? My 14 year old. Jack. And not in the way most 14 year old boys are attempting to kill their mother. Let me preface this by saying, please hold your questions until the end. And please hold your judgments until forever. We’re not here for it.

It is no secret that one Jack Jones has wanted to attend a baseball prep school from the minute he knew baseball prep schools existed. Well, it’s no secret in our house anyway. It’s also no secret that one Jack Jones is not exactly enamored with the place we call home and hasn’t been since the passing of his father. He’s been talking a lot lately about attending school elsewhere. He has asked countless times to move. He’s continually researching the top ranking baseball high schools in the country and further investigating real estate in that area and coming to me with the school he should attend and the home we should reside in. And I just want to say that it has absolutely nothing to do with his family, his friends, his teammates, his teachers. None of that. His love for his people is deep and unyielding. But I can imagine still living in the same small town where you lost your father, where everyone knows you, your father, your stories, I can only imagine how that must make a boy turning into a young man feel. And I imagine that feeling is a little bit suffocated.

We were recently on a baseball trip to Myrtle Beach (what a shit hole that place is). It was just the 2 of us and we spent a lot of time together, talking openly and honestly. He had been doing some more research. Of course. And ran across an athletic prep school outside of Charlotte, NC by the name of Combine Academy. We had looked at Combine together before but this was the first time we had a serious conversation about it. Well, it was time to have that serious conversation. Jack wanted to know if he had my support if he found the funding, got accepted and found housing, could he transfer to Combine? I sat there for a minute, just looking at this amazing young man that I had the privilege of co-creating. Tears formed in my eyes. He looked right back at me, tears forming in his eyes and I told him “Jack, I will do whatever I can to make your dreams come true. I am here to guide you, love you and support you. If you can achieve all that, you have my full support.”

Now, in the back of my mind I knew that there were some giant hurdles for this boy to leap in order to make this happen. And as my mind typically works, I thought there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he would a. find the funding. 2. get accepted especially since the cut off date for new applications was March 31, 2024 and c. get his bestie’s family’s approval to move in with them. You know what they say when you assume?

His first hurdle was funding. He asked me if he could ask his grandmother to help him with tuition. I told him absolutely, but it was all him. I was helping in no way. If he wanted to ask, he had to be man enough to do it himself. So, he reaches out to his grandmother and asks if they can go to dinner, just the two of them. This is on day 1 back from Dirty Myrtle. Again, Positive Patty over here, thought there’s no way she says yes. He comes home from dinner. Grandma said yes. Hurdle 1 complete.

Day 2 home from the Dirt Myrt, he asks if we can fill out the application. I say yes. I remind him that the deadline to apply was March, 31. Please do not get your hopes up. He replies with he knows, he even told Grandma that it would likely not be this year because the school year at Combine Academy begins August 12. It’s July 16th at this point. There’s no fucking way this works out. (He probably didn’t say “there’s no fucking way this works out” – that’s another negative but hopeful thought in my mind). A few days go by. We don’t hear anything from Combine. I sorta, kinda block the whole thing from my mind.

It’s Friday, July 19. I’m drinking my coffee, dicking around on my phone, as is my normal summer morning routine when I get an incoming text from Maybe: Jeff B. I don’t look at it immediately as I feel like I know the name but I don’t really know the name so it’s probably just spam of some sort and I’m really into my Insta Reels thank you very much. Eventually I open the text: “Hey Kellie this is Jeff B, head baseball coach and program director at Combine Academy. We have received the application and our ownership should be sending you an acceptance package back in an email today. I wanted to ask you if you had some time this afternoon maybe right after lunch to hop on a quick phone call? Thank you.” And I burst into tears. How was it fucking possible? There’s no fucking way. They’ve never seen this kid. Never heard of this kid. How in the fucking world did he get accepted?

Except that’s where I was wrong. They have heard of my kid. There’s been a little birdie in head baseball coach and program director, Jeff B’s ear regarding one Jack Jones. And as soon as Jack Jones’ application came through, he remembered the birdie that had been in his ear and he was immediately interested. He called the birdie, asked if it was the Jack Jones’ in which he had been referring and once confirmed, Jack was accepted into the program. Hurdle 2 complete.

I will be honest here. I considered, for a beat or 2, not telling Jack that he had been accepted. I could have just deleted the text and never said another word about it. But I didn’t. Because that’s not me. When I say he has my full support, I mean it. He has my full, unconditional, loving support.

While Combine Academy is a boarding school, I didn’t feel like boarding was the journey for Jack. Not this young. So his final hurdle was convincing bestie’s family to let him move in for the school year. He started the conversation with them and then I continued it. And what do you know, they love my son like their own and are happy to have him live with them for the school year. They told me one Jack Jones has been working hard since the day they met him at football practice when he was 8 years old and that one Jack Jones was going to thrive and make us all proud in his new journey at Combine Academy. And you know what, I couldn’t agree more. How lucky are we to have people that love my family so much?

So, August 11, 2024, one Jack Jones will begin a brand new journey in his new school, in a new town, living with some of the best people I know. While the heartbreak for me is real, and while I call myself his birth mother now, I cannot express how fucking excited for and proud of my son I am. This is a hell of an opportunity and while I know how hard and different our lives are going to be without him every day, I know in my heart that we are making the right choice for him. I know that he will go work his ass off. And deep down I truly believe he will thrive. I could be wrong (I’m generally not). He could go there and completely fail. He could be too young to leave home for such a long time. But guess what? That’s our mistake to make. Life is an adventure and this is his adventure. And that, I am here for.

We won’t be accepting any judgments from anyone. What we will accept is words of encouragement, loving thoughts, atta boys and as ever, you may borrow my favorite thing to say to him: play hard, have fun and try not to suck.

That which does not kill me only makes me stronger. (she types as she cries like a little bitch baby)