Bio
No Apology Needed
Every little girl dreams of meeting her knight in shining armor, marrying him, and raising a family. My dream came true thirty-one years ago. Mike and I were married, and two years later, we started DePorterville. It began with Adam, followed by Ryan, and then Zach. "My three sons" was the phrase everyone used.
But I kept saying, "Three boys? Me? Can I do this?"
Raising three boys is not for the faint of heart. DePorterville was full of band-aids and baseball together with dirt and dump trucks. Babies and Barbie dolls were nowhere to be found. I didn't braid hair, but I learned the value of a buzz cut: boys don't like to shower, and buzz cuts don't need one.
Life was full of sports, from youth soccer to tournament baseball. I coached a pee-wee soccer team and a basketball team of high school misfits. However, I never coached baseball. Mike was the baseball coach, and I was the manager. I knew where every piece of equipment, together with five different uniforms, went after every game before preparing for the next. A better analogy may be that dad was the pilot, and mom was the air traffic controller.
Although he played sports, our youngest son Zachary brought theater to DePorterville. He shined on the stage as the other DePorter boys did on a baseball field. The theater was a creative outlet for our ever-moving, ADHD youngest child. However, I never knew it would shape his life until he earned his first lead role.
After one particularly long rehearsal, a director asked, "Did Zach take medicine tonight?"
"Yes, he wanted to stay focused," I replied.
"Well, we like 'unmedicated' Zach." Zach and I were speechless. This was the first time he could embrace his ADHD rather than hide it.
One mentor commented that this was the catalyst for Zach's decision to manage his ADHD without medication and sparked his passion for acting.
In his graduation speech, Zachary said, "I found a place where I could be unapologetically me."
As I listened, I realized each of us had found our place: an actor on stage, a team on the baseball field, and a mom keeping things organized.
Today, Mike and I are empty nesters enjoying our life in the slow lane. And while many things have changed, I am still a mom. I held their hands long ago but now keep them in my heart. No apology needed.