It’s not even noon and I’m worried that I’ve wasted the day.
I took today off from work to tend to overdue doctors’ appointments. Ethan will have his four-month check-up (He’s past five months now). And I will have a “new patient” meeting with a primary care physician (This was scheduled over a year ago and then I had to push it farther back because I was too consumed by work).
The word, neglect, has been running through my head for the last day or so. Ethan’s delay in getting to his well-check appointment was due to illness, so it couldn’t be helped. But I’m pretty sure everything else that overwhelms me right now is mostly my fault.
“You know, there are movie moments that you love, but you hope to never be. Maybe you thought you’d never be. But, then here you are. Charming your landlord while you sip what’s left of your dignity and hope they don’t notice how hopeless you are. Or they do and cheers to them for seeing you.”
People have said to me that I’m a good mother. Then there was that one time when someone called me a deadbeat mother. There are the things people say about you and then the things you think about yourself.
I have been a mother for almost 20 years. The role has not always been sunshine and rainbows, but I think that’s the mental weight of what I thought it meant to be a mother.
I know it’s a hard day for a lot of people, so I won’t take up too much space talking about it.But I felt like this was worth putting out there…
Remember that time when I had an Etsy shop and sold stuff? Well, I’m at it again!
Truthfully, I didn’t think I’d reopen the store since turning on “vacation mode” late last year. At the time, I was burnt out and moving deeper into my winter season of pregnancy.
I also had an overwhelming amount of “inventory” (AKA stuff I bought or acquired that slowly began to consume the garage). Actually, it wasn’t even a slow process—it just kind of exploded over night. That’s what happens when you obsessively track local estate sales and win big auction lots. 😬🤷♀️
Recently, I reached out to Beth, a friend of mine from my days in the vintage resale community. I had just picked up a cuuuuute ’60s-’70s coat from the thrift store, and thought she might be able to provide more insight into it.
As the conversation evolved, we talked about how we are both stepping out of our comfort zones in many ways—that we’ve been feeling this urge to transform and begin again refreshed.
It’s been 12 days since the first day of spring, and we’ve had more grey skies, snowfall, freezing rain, and hail than I care to tolerate.
As my almost-six-year-old just said, “I don’t get it. It says it’s spring, but it’s still cold.” Even she gets it.
As I’m sitting here at an Airbnb in Ketchum, Idaho, the snow continues to fall and stick to whatever it hits first. While I can’t deny how beautiful and magical a blanket of snow can be, it’s time to give the proverbial mic back to the sun.