unofficial end of the summer = begin again

i am a summer gal.

i love the heat

i love the humidity

i love the long days

i love the kids home

i love wearing white pants

so when people refer to Labor Day as the end of summer, it kind of bums me out.  this summer has been different though, hard, good came out of it, but different.

this summer i battled, battled within my head, battled to be productive, battled with my words, battled to get out of bed. so to what some may call the end of summer, to me feels like a time to begin again.


this summer i got through with my people.  my closest friends.

what time are we running in the morning?

do you want to do the bleachers?

want to go to try a new church?

lets get pizza!

i am praying for you.

want to go to yoga?


you are awesome!

these messages may have come in because they knew i was struggling, or maybe they didn’t because i didnt talk much about it, but they came in.  they came in exactly when i needed them.  like my previous post, that is not coincidence.

my people, my friends, my closest pals, they show up.

when you are in that space, that space where you can teeter from moving forward or falling into a rut, your people make a huge difference.  when moving forward is hard, challenging, stressful, someone just being simple and looking to do the norm, the same accountability i would hold others to, that kept me moving forward.  i may not have been as aggressive as summers past, but it was forward.

this summer has been different.  i stripped everything away.  at my lowest, it was just me home alone in a pit of despair, it felt like the walls were falling in, the pressure of a 10k kettle bell sitting on my chest.  i didnt really know what to do, so i did nothing.

for the past month, i have done nothing.  nothing extra that is. nothing that felt like i ‘had’ to do it or a chore.  i didn’t do much laundry, minimal cleaning, no planning, no parties, no gatherings.  i didn’t arrange or schedule weekend activities and my evenings did not have events or commitments.  often times on the weekend afternoons i took a nap, i laid in the afternoon sun and read a book. some mornings i would walk, instead of run. i fell into shavasana a bit early and stayed in childs pose a little longer. i lite white candles and wrote words with a pen on paper, the best kind. i typed more words too. i prayed, i prayed to whomever, talked to angels, learned how to be open to miracles and practiced being more mindful with my thoughts.  right now i am sitting out in the summer afternoon shade on my back patio, listening to the boys laugh and chat in the pool, not feeling like i need to go change the laundry that is piled outside the laundry room. this last month of nothing, nothing that i did not want to do has healed me.

with the unofficial ‘end’ of the summer, i am looking forward to continuing to move forward, with caution of course, but feeling renewed.  i can move forward, even when i think the anxiety hanging above me will weigh me down, it wont.  i will get through it.  i may still go to bed early and continue to try to rise before the sun comes up to appreciate the day.  my appreciation is higher, my time more guarded and my people closer to me.  my circle is smaller, smaller but tighter and i love that!

i love that relationships move through and sit in your space and stay for the time needed.  some longer, some shorter but all leaving an imprint and lesson.  i have gained so much in the past several months, gained so much from the relationships that have moved on and the new ones being rooted.  i am so very grateful for each of them.

this week the forecast is 75+ each day and most likely 85+% humidity, so guess what, summer really isnt gone.  i plan on wearing white jeans tomorrow, the day after labor day, thats right, i’m still crazy, and enjoying the humidity on my morning runs. i’m not letting the first monday of september determine when my summer ends, but i am allowing it to give me the go ahead to begin, again.


disclaimer: 🙂 im not an expert, i dont know the super scary side of mental illness or pretend to, so while i understand this is different for everyone, this is how i felt.  i am thankful it was not worse, i am thankful for the tools that were in my tool bag but also understand and respect not everyone has those same tools or even has access to them.  this is my story

sunday = church

this year, amoungest other things, i started to focus more on my spirituality.  it is mind blowing to me how things come into your life to prepare you for exactly what you need, and that is not just another coincidence.

sunday mornings at 9am i set my intentions and focus my thoughts for an hour of worship. this time, it is a gift. as i prepare, check in and get myself set up to worship i take a minute to choose a word for my intention.  some options are heal, grow, joy and again, not on coincidence, the word i am craving pops right out at me.  i have never had to search. i lay that word out in front of me so during my time of worship, i have a focal point to bring my thoughts back to.


it may not be the traditional building, there isnt a steeple, but there is an alter with the beautiful glow of soft flickering candles, a choir that harmonizes the tune of namaste and  music that fills the room and my heart while moving me to tears.  and those tears, those buckets of tears that are released are camouflaged with sweat, as the temperature in the sanctuary is over 100 degrees.


during the 60 minute service, my hands extend up to the heavens and through my heart to prayer, then all that i am holding within me falls away with every forward fold.  as i twist, my heart is cracked open wide and i am filled back up with love and light. friends in close proximity offer a touch of peace when flipping their dog, stumbling from a balancing pose or just crashing down in relief from a challenge pose.  as I crash to my belly and my cheek hits the mat from moving through a high plank to low, to high, to low for what seems like an eternity i catch a comforting glance from my neighbor in solidarity and know this is the place where i fit in, these are my people for these 60 minutes.

i am challenged each week to focus my mind from wandering thoughts, sitting in discomfort and allowing feelings of anxiety, pain, grief and fear to move through me and dissolve away bringing me back to gratefulness, happiness and peace.

as i flow with the instructor through the sermon, angels come by sharing their gifts of offering with hands on assist, along with a rewarding stretch, a head and/or neck rub with the holy oil of indu or china gel. these angels never hesitate with a post sermon hug, which includes the tightest squeeze sealed with bodies squelching together in sweat.  you can find them hanging out post service engaged in conversation with members of the congregation offering gifts of encouragement, love or most important a healing ear while listening to confession.

settling in for the closing prayer, the heat is released and and a wave of  a cooler breeze wisps by while the warm temperatures still enclose me in a hug.  soaked with glistening, clean, sweat, i melt into the mat that is filled with all that i left in salty sweat and tears. the prayer allows me to come back to steady breath, and return to that intention, that word that choose me 60 minutes ago and reflect on how how i will preach that within myself moving forward.


the homily from the service sticks with me throughout the week, i focus to bring myself back to it when my thoughts  start to get in my head or when i am tired and start to snap at my crew. i come back to that message so that i can get through what is coming at me, as i take the moment to close my eyes and return to center.

as i move through the tasks of the week that fill my time, and my head begins to spiral with thoughts that need to steady and clear, my internal calendar is aware of the day of the week and calculating when i will return to sunday morning service.  i crave the sixty minutes with my people, the time to empty out and replenish with hope, faith and gratitude.

a coincidence? i don’t think so

did you happen to see my instagram post about this?

and listen to this podcast episode ?

yesterday after an awesome hot yoga class, i had a bit of time with a super loving being i am blessed to call my friend, actually 2 super beings.  she shared this podcast“>episode with me and was a perfect message i needed to hear.  i think my path is in front of me, so i was supposed to have these messages align.  is that a sign?  i love the concept of faith and abundance and the ocean metaphor just makes it cool.

happy listening and please tell me what do you think, coincidence?    🙂


0615 just a date

all those years ago today date was just a date, then about 1995 all of that changed, bob was born.

so i actually dont know  if 6/15 was the real date, it may have been written on her papers, i vaguely remember that, but it was the day i celebrated her birth, and it was near the date, so it counts.

dogs give this gift, the gift of unconditional love.
you feed them
you snggle them
you scratch them
you love them

but none of that can compare to the unconditional love they always give back, and that is just what bob gave to me.

bob came to me in a time i desperately needed something to be just mine.  i was so in limbo, in a period of my life where i just had no clue what the hell i was going to do.   i had zero direction, no mentors, wasnt accomplishing much, didnt have any goals, heck, i didnt even know what goal setting was!  i dont regret those years, they were extremely fun, and drunk, but fun, and shaped me along with several more years of that.  looking back on it now i dont regret it.  could i have done it different, of course, but i do not regret it.

i was getting a dog, and naming it bob.  that was my direction.  i found her in the paper, you remember, that black and white thing they used to print daily and would end up on your doorstep! she was $375 which to me and my budget equated about $375,000.00, but i scounged it together somehow.  My friend Chris Tindera and I drove the 60 minutes to Ashland and rolled home minutes later with the cutest little ball of wrinkles on my lap.

She was with me constantly, when i did get a ‘job’ she went with me, my first house purchase was based on the yard and space for her, she walked me down the aisle at my wedding, she was an ice sculpture at the reception and she prepped me for the greatest journey of my life, becoming a mom.

when i was pregnant with grace i used to worry, worry i could never love my baby as much as i loved bob. (dont worry, i quickly learned i could).  bob adapted so perfectly to life with a baby, and grace become her baby to love and protect.

when i lost bob a piece of my heart was torn from my chest, never to return.  thankfully, she filled that same heart i was able to move on, after days in bed sobbing.  yes…i spent days in bed sobbing over the loss of my dog. the guilt of her life being cut short will always be with me, haunting me, but the joy of her dog years pushes the guilt away too.

we still talk about bob.  my kids still joke i love bob more than them.  there are still pictures of her around the house, a little cement replica of her in the flower bed. 0615 is a date to most people, but to me it is a daily reminder of the unconditional love that was given to me.  the love that gave me a purpose.  dog years that i am forever grateful i had.


the boy, his arm and the guilt.

the boy has been bouncing on the trampoline for years.  since he was a small chubby little guy.


he has always gone out there on his own and would just jump, up and down on his own for the longest time.  it has always been like he goes in a zone, time in his own head, scheming and imagining.  it would calm him, it has always been his go to when he got shooed outside.

well, yesterday was the day that came to an end, snap.
the boy broke his arm.

yes, it was bound to happen
yes, trampolines are an accident waiting to happen
no, there is not a net around it
yes, i am an awful mom

so now that we have gotten that out of the way.

it went down like this, the first day of summer break, the boy got shooed outside and off fortnite. jumping away he goes, and attempts the cardinal trampoline sin, a flip.  doesn’t land the flip and snap, just like a pencil snapping as he would describe it.

Clean break of both bones in his forearm.

where am i? work.
i get a picture message of the snapped S shaped arm, ummmm so gross!  i will spare you posting it here. gross, and not what you want to see pop up on your message from your kid.  him laying his head on the table with his S shaped arm = mild heart attack.

at that exact moment i was out and about running errands, not in my car i might add.  so i need to get back to work.

this is when it went by really fast.
I am: 
trying to pull over to try to talk to him
he is in route to the er
i am calling the ortho office
sending a picture of the insurance card
my boy is in pain and i am not able to get right to him.

by the time i get back to work and i can get to my car to make the 30 minute drive to the hospital, the boy is being numbed up and are ready to cast him.
so no point in me racing there, he is on his way home with a quarter pounder.

i finish up my work, head to drug mart to get him some necessities and head home.
i walk in the door, he comes right up to me before i am in and just hugs me.  he is a wreck!  my boy is so upset…queue the mom guilt, like a water pipe just burst and the mom guilt is shooting directly at me.  my boy is so stinking mad at himself for this injury.  he had big plans this summer.

The numbing is wearing off, he is in pain and he is beating himself up.
I am beating myself up
I have allowed the trampoline all these years

I am the worst mom in the world 

I wasn’t there when it happened, I wasn’t there to take him to the hospital, I wasn’t there to have him squeeze my hand when it hurt, I wasn’t there when they gave him the Novocaine shots, I wasn’t there when they showed the xray, I wasn’t there to tell him it was going to be ok, I wasn’t there when he picked his cast color, I wasn’t there when they casted it, I wasn’t there to make the follow up appointment, I wasn’t there to get him the quarter pounder meal after (that is probably a good thing).

yes, it is dangerous, honestly my whole back yard/home is a danger zone.
we have:
a climber set
an above ground pool
basketball hoop
slip and slides
pogo sticks
the list goes on and on.

Every single time they walk out that door to play, an accident can happen.  I cant switch my mindset to wrapping them in a bubble and sending them off, unless they are those fun bubble balls you slam into each other in!

Accidents are always going to happen, I just have to
and have faith that they have been raised well enough to make decisions that can keep them safe as possible.  Yes, a flip on the trampoline is a dumb decision. the rule is no flips.  An accident happened, it could have been worse, it could have been better.  Either way I cant lock him up.  I want him to live, I want him to do his thing, get dirty, take risks (not crazy risks, but some risks) and he learned from this risk.  So I will take a broken bone and the lesson he learned.  I don’t have to punish him, he is doing that to himself.  A great lesson in choices, because he is going to be making choices for the rest of his years.

As for me, the guilt is going away, it wasn’t like he drove himself to the hospital, he was in good hands with his dad, who is calm, calm, calm in these situations.  There is a reason I wasn’t there, because I most likely would have yaked, cried and been a wreck.  That being said, the mom guilt is still strong and hopefully in 25 years, when they are grown and visiting me at my beach house, (because that is the only way I will get them to visit me) this will be a mom guilt story i will be crying tears of laughter from.

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