My socks don’t match most of the time.

I wish my husband didn’t travel so much for work.

My 10 year old son will not say, “I love you,” but I know he does. Usually.

I have a difficult time being open with others about my life.

I know too many people impacted by some sort of addiction.

I feel worried I’m in denial of my own addiction, but I don’t know what it is.

I am the strong, reliable friend others lean on, but I’m not sure why.

Strangers and mere acquaintances share personal grievances with me frequently. Again, I’m not sure why.

I love my family and am terrified of something happening to them.

My socks don’t match most of the time.


What’s your truth?

Christmas Aftermath


This was my first Christmas with a recovering alcoholic family member- who I suspected was an alcoholic all along.

This was my first Christmas spent alongside a mother who loves her children but has lost all control of them. A mother who is desperate, lonely, and making so many baffling wrong choices.

She’s not the recovering alcoholic who is in treatment. She’s struggling anyway.

I’m the supportive family member who everyone does think has it all together.

I do not.

Currently, I’m drinking a scotch while I write this from my phone. My family sleeps. I’m exhausted, but here I sit.

1reason2write. Flaws. Human nature. We are all a mess. All of us. Every single one of us.

Tonight I’m thankful for a new beginning.

Christmas is the story of a beautiful birth amidst the ugliness of the world- traveling to be counted in the census, donkey rides while pregnant, smelly mangers. It’s all so messy and difficult.

But the birth happens anyway.

New life.

The aftermath of Christmas is miraculous. It’s a new beginning.


Home Is Where The Crazy Is

Home is

having a glass of wine with my husband

while all my chickadees are in their nests

sleeping upstairs.

Home is

chaotic, rushed mornings with all my favorite littles around the breakfast table

our golden retriever

circling around

lapping up our crumbly mess,

– and-

too much laundry to do,

toys scattered everywhere,

the sounds of my children

rough- housing,


laughing, running, jumping,


It’s crazy.

It’s Home.

I wonder – has home changed as you’ve gotten older?  What parts have remained the same?  I wonder what my children would say home is?  If you have children, what do you think they would say home is?  I may just ask mine!

A big thank you to Never Trust a Jellyfish for this inspiration and 1reason2write!

Dear New Blog

I love writing again. I love meeting other writers, poets, readers, parents, runners, potential friends. They are all new inspirations for me to write about, with, and for.

I am nervous about exposing my truths because, I think , I do not really know what those truths are yet. That’s the joy and anticipation of writing. We discover and rediscover. I’m frighteningly looking forward to what you’ll bring.

Thank you for-

Ten Lessons from My Six Month Old

1.  Get enough sleep.  Napping is a good thing.

2.  Eat when you’re hungry.  Don’t when you’re not.

3.  When you gotta go, you gotta go….

4.  An upset tummy is nothing to be ashamed of.

5.  Sometimes a burp feels really good.

6.  Smile.  It will make everyone around you happier.

7.  Take time to observe the world.  It’s an amazing place.

8.  Feeling safe and cozy is important.

9.  If you’re not getting enough attention and love, cry out for more.

10.  The most important people in your life are your family.  Love each other often.

My six month old is now five years old, but what she taught me then holds true today.   So glad I stumbled upon this.  I think now I’ll go nap…

Running for Clarity

Found this in my posts from my old blog.  Some things never change:

This momma runs.  She runs her kids ragged when they deserve it.  She runs out her husband’s patience at times.  She runs her household, and she just runs.  Period.

You know how you have those really good runs and those really bad runs and you rejoice in the good, learn from the bad, and keep on running?  You know how your body can hurt and your mind can become exhausted?  You know how when you run you can find clarity in places or times you never thought you’d find it?  Well I do that all the time.  All of it.  Every. Single. Day.

Today I hit the wall on the run with my kids when they were all either arguing, rough-housing, “potty talking,” or being  beyond silly.   My body ached.  My mind ached.  My endurance wavered.

And then?  Then I found clarity.  I found clarity when we got to do Facetime with Daddy and the miles melted away.  I found clarity when the kids and I pretended we were the Croops (go see that movie) and made a “sleep pile” and giggled and giggled.  (Perhaps I’m the one who turned the sillies on too high).  I found clarity when my four and half year old crawled in my lap to tell me about the book his teacher read to him today at preschool – where the turtle raced the hare home.  “Guess who won, Mommy?  The turtle wears his home!  Get it?”  I found clarity when I woke my 3 and half year old from her nap and she wanted to stay in her bed with me and “puddle for just a little bit.”  I found clarity when I toe-tipped upstairs to read with and tuck in my nearly 9 year old  – only to find him fast asleep with his lamp still glowing and A Wrinkle in Time strewn open across his chest.

 I found clarity.

This momma runs.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Blog Confusion

I’m not sure how or why ‘followers’ or ‘likes’ are added to my stats if I don’t get the views to match them.  Makes me think there are people who are perhaps just looking to promote their own blog.   I’m new to this gig.  Instead of liking will you please visit and then comment?   I’d love feedback on how to make this brand new blog of mine survive.  Seriously.  Thankful for the response I’ve had, but I’m all about authenticity.  Don’t like it if you haven’t read it.  Thanks!

PS- I WILL visit your blog!  Looking forward to it!

Three Reasons to Be Better

She watches me put on makeup, and asks me, “Why?”  

“Oh, I don’t wear much.  I just want to cover up those spots from the sun.  Be sure and always wear sunscreen, Pumpkin.  The sun is bad for your skin.”

“But why?  Why are you covering up the brown patches, Mommy?  Why would you do that?  That’s part of your face.”

My five-year old reflects who I want to be – not the lady in the mirror covering her imperfections.

He snuggles into his bed and grabs my hand, pressing it on his face.  

“Mommy, I just want your hand. Ok?  I love your hand.”

He closes his eyes and breathes in comfort.  

His eyelashes.  His skin a fragile peach.  Soft.  Warm.  My hand on his cheek.

That’s all he needs.  That’s all I need.  Presence.  

My oldest son’s last paragraph in an essay for school:

“I think I get my persistence from my parents.  Right now they’re both training for half marathons.  My mom has done many before, but this is my dad’s first.  There’s no backing out now because they already signed up.  They’re hard to wear out unless it has to do with my brother and sister crying over something.  (HA! He’s right about that!) This will help impact my life because I will set goals and no one will stop me.  I will accomplish those goals, and then I will set more.  Thanks to my parents, I know I will have a happy life.”

Who knew?  They really do watch everything you do. But not when you think they’re watching.

Those three monkeys.  If I’m really being honest with myself, those three are my reasons for almost everything I do, think, say, believe.  Those three monkeys.  My kids.

Who knew motherhood would be this awe-and-ache inspiring?

I will not and do not strive for perfection or even greatness.  My three monkeys have taught me to strive for authenticity, simplicity, honesty, presence, (and yes – persistence) and love.

****I want to end my post there, but I do forget sometimes.  Is it just me, or are many of us accidentally falling into the search for perfection when our kids are teaching us everyday that’s not what they need?  Ironic really.  Our hunt for perfect parenting takes us further and further away from what it is our children really want us to be.  Are we able to slow down enough and be present?  How can we make this mindfulness a habit?

1 Reason 2 Write….

People!  What can I say?  I love people.  Communicating with others about life, hearing their points of view, and establishing new relationships and even friendships through writing is way better than pushing and shoving  through my brain – solo-.  It gets a little chaotic in there, and honestly, one idea cancels the next.  My thoughts abuse each other,  and I’m left staring at a blinking cursor.  Who wants that?

SO – Join me!

I’m an exhausted and energetic (See how that works?  My brain is an oxymoron.) wife, mother, teacher, runner —  How cliche.

I love my life, but I’m searching for my writing voice.  Here’s this blip  blog, where I envision connecting with other moms, wives, teachers, runners, writers, whiners, and winers.   Let’s write together.

What should we write about next?