Eat Play Love

The feeling is odd. Being alone. I'm learning how to be alone again. I've spent the last nine years with a little one by my side for the majority of my days and now I find myself with longer stretches of alone time. I've already caught myself on the escape with hikes, coffee, and lunch out with friends.

But today I've forced myself to stay home, well after a hike. 

The dishwasher is running and I've created a to do list. I feel anxious to find the balance of this new time to myself without running away from what I have. With nothing but good intentions, I am focusing on being present. I didn't realize this wouldn't come so naturally to me. Time to do the work, embrace this next phase, and understand the emptiness I feel will allow me to be more present when my side kicks are back home.

The tears were rolling down her face in the moment she had gotten hurt, which was definitely out of character for my tough girl. A ball bent her pinky back in a game of dodgeball. I got some ice for her and we set off for lunch. There wasn't much swelling when we got home and I didn't even offer her an ibuprofen. I went through a laundry list of questions I thought would help me indicate if there was really something wrong with her finger, which I anticipated was sprained. The pain wasn't bad, she could bend it, but 6 hours later it did look swollen. When she flipped her palm up, I could see bruising on her finger. I decided to call the nurse line and she felt like Sj should be checked out within 24 hours.

I immediately gave her ibuprofen and sent Josh off with Sj to get an Xray at Urgent Care, rather than wait for our Pediatrician in the morning. The text I received shortly there after, fractured pinky. My girl came home cheery as usual with a silver splint on her finger …

Today was a first, something happened I never would've anticipated just a few short years ago. My daughter started at a new school, leaving behind a school we had become very comfortable with the last three years. Sj bounced around to different preschools every year through Kindergarten and when we received a first grade spot in our former school, I always imagined she would stay there through fifth grade. That was it for me, finally we had our spot, and we were happy there!

Now I have to confess, switching schools makes me uncomfortable, it makes me worrisome. I'm a product of never having to switch schools, my parents still live in the house I grew up in. Maybe I credit my success in life to consistency. I truly don't think there's a right way, but one could easily misconstrue being consistent with also being stagnant, which I am really not a fan of. Anyway, I threw all my hesitations into the wind and decided to place the girls into a new school this year. While the…

Over the course of the past five years at Eat Play Love, thousands of words have told my stories, some significant to the bigger context of my life and some rather simple and lighthearted. Sometimes the words just spilled out serendipitously onto the page providing space from my thoughts and other times my intentions were wrought with countless edits. While idyllic notions and noble attempts have waxed and waned over the years, Eat Play Love has remained my constant. My tiny corner of the web, the place where I've allowed myself the approval to be simply who I am. There's never been an act or a show, nor fabrication to create something more than which rings true.

Five years of authenticity and I know myself better. You know me better. Thanks for tagging along on this journey through life, it's better with you here.

Steps after entering the train car, I quickly observed a seat that would allow me the most pleasurable ride to my final stop, Penn Station. Heading south along the Hudson River, I knew I had to sit along the right side of the train, intentionally placed in a row between a few business men defaulting to more time for work. I wasn't interested in conversation or even overhearing small talk, I just wanted to take the time to enjoy some peace and quiet I was in search of. I didn't even have my my music playing or my book open on my iPad, when the train started to rhythmically clank and then gently hum over the tracks.

My eyes gazed out over the water, passing through wooded areas, small towns, the occasional stone castle perched upon a hillside starkly contrasting abandoned buildings full of teenage boy's graffiti. I seized the moment many times to take photos to remind me of the journey, little mementos of a feeling that is hard to achieve in the desert of Colorado. The con…

Remarkably for one of the first times in my life, I walked away. I can't quite grasp if I was so incredibly exposed, fragile, and vulnerable so I put up walls greater than the Chinese or that I just couldn't handle the emotional state I was experiencing. I've always believed that engaging in conversation that typically escalates to something more than conversation is the best way to go. Get it out, let the words that need to be spoken go, and be done with it. I have a hard time holding things in. I don't stew well. I don't always run with initial emotions, but within a day or two, I typically need resolve.

But not this time, this time I walked. It's good to know I can be grounded in moments that encapsulate for the first time in my life. It seems like I've been craving those more and more these days.