Wednesday, September 28

Dear Calvin, 8 years old

8 year's old is a big year for you, Monkey.
Finally, you're tall enough to ride the bigger rides at the fair.
Finally, you can play pee-wee basketball.
FINALLY! you can try out for the Little League team.

And I must say, we are all just as excited, as you are to finally be able to.

Right now, sports "are your thing". You're competitive drive is driven by such a genuine force, there's no way to keep from being energized by your efforts.
Your heart consistently remains on your sleeve and I'll admit I'm not always the best at knowing how to handle your raw, always on the surface emotions.

I worry a lot about your gentle kindness, with hopes of it sustaining and rooting in confidence as you grow, rather than letting the world jade you from its lack of it's own affection at times.

You continue to be too kind to Joey who manipulates you too often and I know Wesley provokes you too much, but in the less loud hours of each day, it's clear to see how much Bean depends on you as hers and how Bubby leans on the comfort in your ora.

You're a rule follower, a creative thinking, a considerate friend and your father's little shadow.

Your sweetness and charm are what I feel will make you a force in success in this game of life, but also know that your own unawareness of those very traits, is what will be the most impactful to those who are lucky enough to share your time.

I watched you make a wish this summer.
Your eyes caught on a shooting star and mirrored it's glow, your face lit slightly, you're eyes closed slowly, and the look of hope settled on your face. As soon as your wish was made, you returned your attention to making a s'more, without a mention of any of it.

It left me breathless.
To be  fortunate enough to be looking at you in that split moment, to witness such innocence, I won't questions, but will certainly be so so thankful for.

I thought about asking you what you wished, I wanted to be let in on such magic. Every fiber of me wanted to make it come true for you. But, I left it alone. Keeping that moment to myself, as much as you kept the wish to yours, while I scanned the sky hoping to find a shooting star of my own to wish on for you.

I love all of you at 8, Monkey-man..

Love, Love,


Thursday, September 15

Summer's So Much Fun

I'm happy to report, we have had a successful first week.5 of school under our belts and though we live in a small town, it's been nice to catch up with those who's faces I mostly see within the months of school's session.

This summer, I found myself welcoming the life style of selective. Not regrettingly {just made that word right up!} at all.  I'll admit I struggled with feeling guilty about answering how our summer has been going, when people would ask. Without hesitation I found myself blurting out, "It's been amazing! We're having!" and I rarely had anyone mirror my excitement in summah 2016.

In return, I more often than not got too many dismissive "must be nice"'s and instantly, I would through myself into sound boarding their summer woes and stressful times that have happened to those I hadn't been directly involved with outside the months of September -June and despite my truly genuine interested in their well being, my own blissful unawareness of anyone outside my select, made me feel like I was being a big snobby jerk, rubbing other's noses in my care free ways of a hella good time.

I sometimes entertained the thought of lessening my own summer fist pumping state, considered back pedaling  and dulling my initial excitement.... but I never did..... because honestly I didn't want that for myself, wouldn't be sincere in its intent, and am not an active participant in the game of one upping in life anyways..... especially in the woe vs. woe department.

I would promise myself to reign it in the next time someone asks and then we would spend a Saturday with an impromptu dance party, in the pool, in the dark, with hair band music playing and then there I would go again gushing about we're having the next time someone asked.

I couldn't help myself and I don't think I really tried to either.

{yes ladies, he's single}

Trust me when I say we've had our own share of heavy things to carry this summer. I've done my own sound boarding to my closest friends, who came running for me to process my worries with their time. I've bent Nate's ear on the unjust of people's actions at other's expense. I've felt sorry for myself. I've yelled at my kids out of hunger. I've allowed myself to embrace the nature of my sometime looked down on hermit ways. I've almost cried and ate my negative emotions in the form pasta a few times more than that.

I realize it's human nature to feel the weight of our own worry the heaviest and know it's a direct connection of instinctual survival skills to do so. We are suppose to feel our emotions the most, to make the necessary efforts to protect ourselves the greatest. But you'd be hard pressed to convince me the 'not so fun' times have a stronger dog in the fight when it comes up against the '' ones.

I don't want to nurture the woes warrior part of myself to make others feel more comfortable when good times need their duel diligence in the lime light  of catching up between shopping carts at the grocery store.


So my summer was amazing. I think the kids would high five about theirs too. We've pushed our energy into the 'want to' of the right now, worked hard in both responsibility and reward, prepared for the unwanted to find itself some room from time to time too, but really really focused on excising only worrying about that for the time it was needing our attention and carrying on after. Minimally looking back.

Now, I'll admit if the idea of the outside influences being more readily available to seeping their way in, didn't send me in a bit of a Post Summer Panic, I'd be misleading you. BUT, that's because I wasn't being fair to the influences to outside these walls.... those effects are more good than bad... and honestly, I'll be the first to say the examples set inside these walls sometimes aren't always on their best behavior either...

Aaaaaaanyways, it may not have been the most reasonable of me to lead in detaching us as much as I did this summer, but I felt very out of control over the course being directed for me and mine by the times Spring came around and creating space is a natural defense mechanism for me, so I went ahead and I embraced that.

And now that summer's over, I feel like I've got my feet back under me and am ready to merge deeper into the less controlled environment, with the prerogative of simply carry over with the

Thursday, April 14


Lately, I'm frequently being reminded that I'm actively participating in the world of being an adult.... adulting, if you will.

Has "adulting" always been a word that I'm just now becoming aware of because I've reached a certain point in my life that it applies?  Like when you buy a new vehicle, magically that very same make and model is every.where you look. Or is this noun, verb turned to be something created within the generation of hashtags?

Regardless, this roll of adulting is proving to be a lot more involved than I imagined. It seems as though I've romanticized this whole experience based on the idea of being able to call the shots on important things such as bed times, having babies, picking which toilet paper brands, and my own limitless ice cream consumption.

Interestingly enough, it's turing out to be a little more detailed than that.

I guess it could be argued I've been in this roll for some time now. Recently though, there seems to have been a string of not-so-fun-events that have gone on, crossing a larger span of time than I would prefer, seriously though I've been chalking it up to something just needing a little time to correct itself.

But then the other day when I was talking to one of my friends and we were ping ponging some worries beyond the stresses of our day to day, of it dawned on me, this very well could just be a new part of life we're phasing into.

And if that's the case, it makes me wonder if the denseness of the last few year's experience is only because it's been the most consistent with 'harder emotions' than ever before. Like when a light turns on in a dark room, the brightness seems so severe at first, but you grow accustom to it's glow as you adjust to its presents.

Honestly, I feel very very hesitant to accept this as part of a norm on being an adult, so less simple, so more raw.

Does this also mean I'm rather foolish to think I'm anything but scratching the surface when it comes to what dealing with life as an adult consists of. Phasing into the more of it, can it really be easier to accept the unpleasant the more the unpleasant makes itself known? Is this the very thing people get jaded from? How the glass gets half empty? Where rainbows don't lead to pots of gold and leprechauns don't really live? When cynical takes root? Why people can sleep at night, without a second thought to the disgusting change of the green skittles to green apple flavor, instead of keeping them as the disliked, but tolerated lime?!?!?

"Clearly this is my panic talking and it certainly feels like a sad state of affairs if that is the case when it comes to participating in this newly ventured age of adulting. And who likes the state of sad? No one, that's who."

So now, I'm looking to foster a sense of relief in the attempt to counter and rally my natural instinct to have the majority of my days spent productively involved in a good time, all the time. Because turns out the specifics of adulting also involve loudly lip syncing to Janis Joplin during school drop off without regret regarding middle school child embarrassment, bonfires that are dangerously too large, legitimately needing a reason for business cards, attempts at cow tipping, and refusing to wear shoes for the simple fact being, I don't wanna, because I am an adult after all.


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