So many adventures. So few times.

My photo
My life is pretty dull. I play with a toddler, watch a lot of Yo Gabba Gabba and experiment with the crock pot. I have no bed time and I find humor in Laffy Taffy jokes. Conan O'Brien is my anti-drug.

Thursday, November 2, 2023

11/2 - Wind

Its a powerful moment when you realize you're doing too much. You're carrying too heavy a load. You're slipping. 

I have to slow down.  
Not everyone is intended to endure much more than a breeze.

Storms are creeping in cast me toward the tide and the winds are whipping at my body. I'm looking back and forth from the safety of the sand and the angry waves of commitments and subtle but sincere acceptance of projects and fundraisers and volunteer opportunities and shuttling shorties from one extra-curricular to the next, all in the name of socialization of the middle-class.

I don't want the waves. I don't want to drown at sea. I want sanity and safety and the comfort of my husband and children in the evening hours. I've come to dread the middle of each month with how overwhelmingly windy they seem. Its only November 2nd, but I'm already staring at the calendar for next week with dread. 

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

11/1 - Heartbeat

The sun is intense today and reflecting off the roof of my office. There is a steady drip drip drip from the gutters and it feels as though today has its own rhythm. Today has its own heartbeat. drip drip drip

As I start another day in my periwinkle office, another morning of warming water for tea and watching the sun wake up the neighborhood across the highway,  I feel so fresh. There is a fresh dusting of snow and the spooky season is now done. Its time for family and friends and celebration of blessings. drip drip drip

Its steady. The day is steady. I'm slightly crazy from lack of sleep and repercussions of a bad decision (fueled by the shortage of my ADHD medication) that came to a head in the middle of the night. I drifted back off to sleep, only to be woken time and time again by that reminder of my sloppy spontaneity. By 3 am, I gave up hope and succumbed to the allure of my digital addiction. drip drip drip

My office mate, Gus, needed a break so we headed outside for a short walk in the cold sunshine. As he sniffed and lifted his leg and dug and pulled, I had an intense feeling of belonging. Being where I belong. Contributing, assisting. Comfort of security. Nothing is perfect, but I'm helping make change. drip drip drip

And now here I sit midday, feeling ready to make plans and hopes and goals for the new month. I'm moving forward in the next phase of my 39th year and the typical anxiety of this time of year has lessened. November feels good. drip drip drip

Wednesday, March 29, 2023


Year 39 is dedicated to living intentionally. 

I’m going to read. 
I’m going to play.

I’m going to pray.
I’m going to get stronger.

I’m going to take longer.
I’m going to enjoy.

I’m going to love on my man-boy.

Every day I don’t live intentionally, I’m wasting. I don’t want to waste a second.

This is my year.

Thursday, January 19, 2023

And Then

It’s been a freaking week. The problem with that statement is that it is only Thursday. And my week? While heavy, it’s pretty insignificant compared to so many others I love. I woke up feeling sorry for myself (at 3 am, mind you… moments before the pup decided it was a good time to puke. 😳) and carried on that heavy emotion throughout the morning. 

And then

And then after remembering all the other shit of the world, and the heaviness of the week, and the amazing humans in my life - both adults and kiddos - I told myself that it was time to knock that nonsense off. 

I ran upstairs and changed into an outfit that was both comfy and would make me happy. I changed out my earrings, even. 
I threw a splash of makeup on my exhausted face, including a swipe of my favorite lipstick color. 
I blasted some Britney Spears.
Yes, my daily smoothie maybe has a black coffee base versus the typical almond milk. 
Yes, my lunchtime routine may be altered by a quick siesta at my desk. 

The only thing we have guaranteed to us is this moment. Let’s make the most of it.

Saturday, December 3, 2022


It hurts. 

It hurts when people you care about say they want your time, but won’t make time for you. 

It hurts when you are desperate to interact with someone outside of work and you realize no one is available.

It hurts when you tell the good stories and are told you are “humble bragging”.

It hurts when you tell the bad stories and are told you only complain. 

It hurts to give everything to kids at school and be told that you aren’t giving enough.

It hurts to come home at night and have nothing left to give to your own family.

I‘M hurting. This is a cry for help. 

I don’t know how to do this much longer. 

The smiles are always forced.

Shutting up and down

When it’s something good that happened or a sharing of a compliment, it’s a humble brag and I’m ridiculous.

When it’s a story of frustration or hurt, all I do is complain. 

Almost 34 hours ago exactly I learned a new truth: my worth is simply shutting up, smiling and nodding when appropriate. 

Sunday, November 20, 2022

Annual holiday truths

This is my brutal truth:

I have no ideas for anyone for Christmas. Like, literally no one. My mom. My husband. My own children.
No one.

I don’t want to do this.

Can we just fast forward a few months so I don’t have to deal with the anxiety and pressure of cleaning and decorating and cooking and wrapping?! I’m hyperventilating and feel like my only identity right now is servant and my head hurts and I just can’t. If I give 100% of myself at school (which is apparently not enough and I need to somehow move faster and do more and be more and expect less… somehow), and 100% of myself to my family who think I’m insane or just feeling sorry for myself, and 100% to all the people in my life and 100% to maintaining a household and where is there room to breathe?! I don’t have balance. I don’t even know what balance looks like. I have several unfolded laundry baskets and dirty hair and dust everywhere and clutter and 12 things to return to Amazon, but no balance. 

And I have people I love dearly who are struggling. People who are dealing with far more than they should ever have to in a lifetime. And I feel as though I can’t help; I can’t lend a shoulder or an ear or a hand to help because I’m drowning and my own life vest is floating out to sea.