And it’s really weird because I felt so “in the flow” last week. Then the weekend hit and BAM—off.
I think a change up in energy is in order!
I’m always hoping that someone out there can take nuggets from these posts to help them in their own lives, but I have to admit that deciding to write about this today is also a little reminder to myself.
As I’m sure many of you can relate, I spent all week looking forward to the weekend. I’ve had a rough go of it recently [as you may recall from my post a few days ago] and I had big plans for some R&R. And then what ends up happening? I GET SICK.
[insert The Bachelor chick “ugh” GIF again] Like, seriously?
Some tribes you choose; and some you don’t. When we choose the members of our tribe, we usually find people in one of four ways: similar interests, things in common, in close proximity, and/or through referrals or third-party introductions. Or you can be born into one and others can be born into yours.
When my mom married my dad, she already had two kids, a son and daughter, from her first marriage. When I was born, my brother and sister were 11 years old and 15 years old, respectively. Although technically they are my “half” siblings, I never thought of them that way; they were always whole to me. As the baby of this family unit, I loved my people, looked up to them, and was fiercely proud of them. This was my first tribe.
On a Saturday morning back in February, I met my friend, Ali, for coffee. These weekend coffee dates had become a wonderful timeout from real life. For a couple hours, I could venture out into the world (just down the street, but still) as an individual person.
I didn’t have to struggle with getting a kid, or four, in and out of the car. I could just pull into a parking space and get myself out of the car; it was a lightness that I rarely felt anymore.
Our conversation that day spanned many topics—from plants to how much our time is worth to how our mindsets shift as we move through life.
Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, I had an epiphany. And then sometime after that, I forgot what it was. (This is why we can’t have nice things.)
Almost one year ago today I began writing a post about gratitude. It’s so important to talk about and I’m sorry that it took me this long to revisit the draft. But I kept getting a nudge to finally get my thoughts on this phenomenon out there, and I’m happy to be seeing it through now.
Let’s get things rolling with a quick reader poll…
Ever since Jillie crossed over into teendom, I’m either shocked, dismayed, angry, sad, impressed, proud, confused, “seriously?” or “wait, what?” For me, this has absolutely been one of the most challenging periods of parenthood thus far.
The mood swings, the attitude, the back talk, the disrespectful language, the terrible decisions, the doing dumb stuff…
And Elliott is only four months shy of entering this stage of life. But I guess this is growing up. (Cue Blink-182)