coming to grips with reality...otherwise known as...you're turning 30

I can't say I've been dreading this day...but I can't say I've been looking forward to it either.

If we're being honest...and we are, because that's what I do on here (I try not to put up false advertising)...I feel like I've been in my 30s all of my 20s. Like I somehow flipped decades. And that's what getting married and having a baby in your 20th year will do to you. Maybe I've thought all along that somehow in my 30s I'd finally feel like I was in my own skin. Like maybe it will all come together in some beautiful symphony of "you got this and you own it" mantra.

Even with all of that to look forward to, it still hurts my ears to hear "30." Look for equally compelling posts with "40" and "50" themes.

I thought I'd write a letter to myself 10 years ago...my new favorite perspective.


Hey you,

I'd like to say the world is wide open and ready for you. But that's a lie...it'll never be ready for you.

What you will find is that life in this world is beautiful. Always changing, sometimes moving in slow and steady shifts that will take some getting used to. The key is to notice the small with the big changes that will surely greet you in the coming years. Because, my darling, you will never be the same wide-eyed small town girl ever again. Kiss those days good-bye. Tell me you weren't ready to hear that?

Here are some words of advice that I have for you in the next few years...

Act your age.

Don't lose yourself trying to find love.

Learn how to cook three good meals. Like from scratch.

Wash your clothes. Weekly.

You won't lose IQ points not attending college right out of high school.
Especially if you're major is "undecided."

Take care of your body.
The path to self destruction is only appreciated in books and movies.

Dare to dream. I double-dog dare you.

Brands and labels are just more stitching, it's not worth the debt.

Work hard. And when you think you're there, push yourself that extra little bit-you won't break.

Volunteer. Lend your hand and heart to those who need it more than you.

Travel.

Invest your time in good friendships.
Not people who are only in it for themselves.

Nothing beats rolling with the windows down, and your favorite song on the radio.
Welcome to your addiction.

Smile. Life's not supposed to be all figured out yet. Ever.

Hug your grandparents a lot.
And your parents.

Get a puppy.

Pick up a camera.

When you're in a bind, two words: don't pawn.

As much as you swear off the 80s, they will come back.
And you will one day love the cheesy Molly Ringwald movies you once swore lifelong hatred to.

Your high school crush was an idiot and the sooner you let it go the better.

Go to more concerts.

That one time you...never-mind, do it. You learned a good lesson there.

Be original.

There will be a day when you're driving a minivan...drive that convertible like it's going out of style.
Because it will.

Don't accept other's definitions of who you are or who you want to be. Even those whom you love.
You're the one holding the dictionary.

Start a collection. One that you'll be able to show off to your kids someday.

Do yoga.

Appreciate silence.

You really can fall in love and meet your soul mate right out of high school.
And it will lead you to some of the best breathtaking moments of your life.

There's nothing wrong with your legs.
Or your hair.
Or your face.
It'll all get better.

Use sunscreen.
Tanning is, for lack of a better word, stupid.

Start a savings account. A modest one is better than none.

Country music is not so bad. You'll start to love it.
No worries Dad, I'm still loyal to Skynyrd.

Stay grounded.

When life throws you curve balls at least you can say you swung.

Keep kicking around the soccer ball.

If you don't love it, don't do it.

I know those odd jobs you took seemed ridiculous at the time, but it beefed up your skills section.
And you learned how to count back change.

Find your own way.

You're worth it.

And don't be afraid of the future.
It's going to be good...

greeting the sun this morning on the beach 

in case you haven't noticed...

It's going to be a bit of a yo-yo game or round of hopscotch on here. I've merged my blogs to bring the best of both worlds...my candid observational nature-writing on topics that amuse me, and keeping up with our family all in one tiny section of blog space.

And if you hadn't noticed, well I'll chalk that up to me being an amateur illusionist :)

Thanks for reading...

Awake...

...this is what I miss.

I feel like I'm coasting through my days in a hazy cloud. Always half asleep, half awake.

Night shift for two years wears on you. It's good money. It's practical. It looks good on paper. And let's face it-it is easier. The doctors aren't in your face. Patients are asleep the majority of your shift. Well, the good ones.

It is hard on your body. Your mind. Your soul. Something is taken from you. Your life-giving spirit is broken. It is always tired. Laying in bed is easier than getting the energy to do something with your day.

I am ready to get off night shift. The change is coming...

a day with me

Today I did something splendid.

Something I will do again and again.

I went to my favorite town, Madison, and had a day date with myself.

I looked at antiques. Had a picnic outside. Had a chai latte. I wrote.

Something about Madison reconnects me with my old soul. And it's wonderful.

I will do this again and again. It feeds me in ways I cannot explain.

mothering

It's Mother's Day morning. As I sit here, brewing my morning cup of coffee, slowly opening up the blinds to let in the waking sun, I hear familiar weekend sounds...kids playing in their rooms, rather fighting, and I smile. All is well in my world.

Motherhood has seasons.

First you are born, like your new child, you are getting familiar with the world around you. Trying out the senses, finding yourself outside the womb. It's a scary yet sensational experience. Your heart living outside your body.

After time the cuts and scrapes of the world dig into your ideas of perfection. Your love wavers. Your resilience sets it. Suddenly life gives you new babies, new careers, new challenges that begin the balancing game. You find your groove and you thrive.

Throughout the routines and curve balls in which you've mastered there are opportunities for growth. Your kids are independent and now you're just an observer, learning the value of silence and watching. Interjecting when they have needs, but for the most part you offer a steady stream of strength and support.

They know. And you know they have been raised to greet the world with their talents. It all comes together and it is beautiful. There will be arguments. Awkward conversations. But mostly there will be beauty.

Life is beautiful and that first day, when you greeted them into this world...you knew. The little boy with curls, the little girl's toothless grin...they are what makes you. Your heart had been waiting for them since the beginning of time.

Because that is what a mother's love is...

show up

How do you move forward when you keep stumbling back?

How do you stay the course with a dimming North Star?

I used to think at a certain point life would become easier. I'd have it all mapped out. I've been searching for that moment, over and over again. I feel my way through the dark, still no glimmer of direction.

Frustration sets in.

This week I've had a few clues to get me on the right track.

-when given the choice between letting tension set in and breathing it out...pop in a mint and let it out baby

-when you find yourself eating for no reason at all, you're feeding your emotions instead of listening...as you pause to listen, you find you have a different hunger

-this world is out to break you any way it knows how...but only if you let it...it's not until you're nearly broken, when you realize what you're made of

-small things will add up if you don't take score...it sounds backwards but the more you try to tally the tinier they seem...don't steel their thunder, just take the moment and live in it

-there's a little voice inside all of us that resonates a very specific, very reasonable request...just show up...

and that's all we have to do

just write

I have this need. This want. This hunger. To write.

Like breathing I need it to feed my brain. It's my thing.

When I don't write I find myself narrating everything.
"She goes to the store for bread..."
"We will see about the park today..."

You get the idea.

I have always been torn about writing with pen or keyboard...with technology always winning because it's easier, faster, and it makes me feel like maybe someday someone will read it. But then again maybe not and maybe all these blog posts are going into some sort of technology black hole oblivion...in that case, type on I say!

Then I have the need of convenience. Because what every writer can tell you, ideas come fast and hard and if you don't have a medium to use the ideas come and go before you have a chance to give them life. You feel deflated. Let down. I can't count how many notebooks I have stashed around in case something comes at me. When I die my kids will have to sift through all sorts of broken down notebooks with fragmented sentences and paragraphs. Maybe they'll get used someday.

I think I will always write. Can't help it. Maybe I put too much pressure on myself to create best-seller ideas when in fact I'm a short story kind if girl. Or short paragraph. Short sentence. Who knows. All I can say at this point is I'm a writer, and damn it, I'm gonna write.

How's that?

on being a mother

I was initiated into motherhood quickly and blindfolded. Like a spy being captured and released as soon as the captors realized they had made a mistake.

I was 19 years old when I found out I was pregnant. The strangest part being that I was very calm about the whole thing. In my friend's bathroom I looked at the stick and the instant double pink lines and I wasn't shocked. Already I knew.

Caleb was born on a cold January day. Pain that I had never felt before brought me the greatest love I had ever known. But that love brought so many harsh realizations.

I would never be the same again. My body, my soul. It would be forever changed.

The first year was a mixture of beauty and ugliness. Being a "mom" was not natural for me. I was the oldest of three and I knew how to boss my brother and sister around. But this, the defenseless and innocent baby I held was a bewilderment and wonderful thing. I had to get this right, this was a fresh start. A new human, a new soul.

By the time we had Katelynn I fell into motherhood effortlessly. Doing laundry the second we walked in the door bringing her home from the hospital. I got this, I would say. And I did.

The one constant that I have learned through the years is that motherhood is about your own evolving.

As a new parent you are a helpless heap of imperfection. And that's okay.

You make mistakes. You cut nails too short to make your child bleed. You get in a teacher's face when they tell you your kid needs to make some improvements. You don't attend church. You show up late for school pick up.

The only thing I can do is my best. And my kids don't have the "perfect" childhood. I'll be the first to admit that.

But they have parents that love them with a fierce and unconditional love.

I'm a mother.

And that is why I'm here.

struggle

This has been going on for a while...

Church, religion, Sundays... How do I even begin to talk about the uniformity of my background. Mark and I both grew up in religious families. We had Sunday school, rituals, books about Peter and Paul. We both grew up with this upbringing that we were accustomed to.

But our kids, what do we give them?

Church?

Teachings?

Moving to a new area brought all of this home to me. And without slipping into a new set of pews every week to find a place of worship, trying on the best fit, if you will. It is an exhausting feat and one that takes compromising and negotiating with one's soul.

Soul.

I had a conversation on this topic with Caleb in the middle of Friday night traffic to get pizza, of all places. It was then that the thought occurred to me.

We don't have to wait around to find a church or place of worship to have opportunities to teach our children about spirituality. It can happen at random intervals, when the topic arises, when questions come up.

I think we put ourselves through too much agony, trying to find this big church family that has been waiting to greet us with welcome arms. Maybe that family has been within the arms of my own little piece of heaven all along.

Maybe we put too much emphasis on the methods and practice of faith, instead of relating to its truer purpose.

Maybe we're doing okay.

The new spirituality is that it will produce an experience in human encounters in which we become a living demonstration of the basic spiritual teaching 'We are all one.'
-Neale Donald Walsch