You guys, I'm struggling this week. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about having had a long weekend, but it really throws me off. I don't know what day it is, I'm all behind on work, and somehow I'm more tired now than I am after a regular weekend (Why?!). I think there's something about this time of year that makes me feel extra scattered. Even though no one in my little family is operating on a school year calendar, I can feel all of the transition happening around me. Kids are . . .
Fourth-grade Mallory cracks me up, you guys. I love her and I think she’s precious but, also, just so nerdy. I can still see the layout of Mrs. Hermann’s fourth grade classroom. During this school year, I did a book report on Nevada, was sent to the principal’s office (for the first and last time, mind you), and began discovering that thing about the grass looking greener on the other side. I had straight blonde hair, my face was peppered with freckles, and, oh my goodness, I [apparently] . . .
We are breaking from our regularly scheduled blog programming because TODAY is Darren’s birthday! My Darren—my husband, my teammate, my closest friend. I often tell him that he’s my “best part’a life”—and I really, really mean it. I can’t believe I get to be partnered up with him on this wild journey. Leading up to our wedding in August of 2015, I wrestled with my vows to Darren. I could write them, of course, but speaking them to him, with nearly 200 friends and family bearing witness, . . .
“You,” my Mom looks at me with a blend of certainty and empathy in her face, “are so much like me.” “Moooom,” I whine as I roll my eyes, “I knooooow.” I couldn’t possibly have kept track of how many times I’ve heard my Mom tell me this in my 30+ years. Typically, it wasn’t a welcomed comment on my end, probably because my Mom usually tells me about our similarities when I’m being stubborn; in the depths of my stubbornness is not the time for me to ponder generational resemblances, . . .
Merry Christmas a little late! Happy New Year a little early! It's that somewhat awkward week between holidays, when the days seem to run together; some of us continue our vacation and others of us go to work in body while still vacationing in mind. I'm doing a little bit of work, a little bit of rest, and a little bit of dreaming & scheming for this next year. I am feeling the anticipation of a fresh new year while consciously trying not to overload myself with grand plans and to-do's . . .
Today marks one year since my husband and I arrived in Dayton, Ohio, with the ink still drying on our marriage license and everything we owned thoughtfully stuffed into a U-Haul truck. We’d traveled through 12 states in one month; although we were happy to finally be in one place for a while, those feelings were countered with a dim reality: This isn’t home. Even though we would be unpacking our belongings and settling in to this new town, it really wasn’t home—not immediately, anyway. That . . .