Time really does fly by. Do I write about it every year? Well, it’s true. Seems like my oldest boy was just 10 or just 5, but now he’s turning 21. No longer a little boy with a buzz cut, now he’s a man with much longer, curly locks.
There are a few milestone birthdays, and this is one of them. I don’t think I was fully prepared to be spending so many of his birthdays without him after he turned 18. I certainly have some core memories from the day he was born and many birthdays and parties since then. A January birthday in the upper Midwest is a bit of a surprise for what the weather will be like. Cold is a pretty good bet though. 18 is another milestone and our youngest turns 18 this summer. As I see ads for senior pictures, it all makes me pause. When did my two little guys become men?
Being a parent to teens/young adults isn’t easier… it’s just a different set of worries. Instead of “Bob the Builder” or “Minecraft” t shirts, it’s welding work boots for one and suits for the other. Instead of “Hot Wheels” races, it’s actual fender benders with trucks and cars. Sleepless nights with babies changes into late nights waiting for them to get home, or talking on the phone later because one of them is a time zone ahead.
I love these two humans more than they can comprehend… more than I say. One day they might understand if they chose to have kids. Either way, I will love them through their highs and lows, loves and heartaches, triumphs and disappointments and everything in between. It’s the silly little stuff they remember- not always the grand gestures, big gifts or trips. As long as they know that I’m their safe space, their home base, their unconditional fan…. I’ll be happy.
So, happy birthday to my legal adult son. I’d say “don’t over do it,” but I know better. Be safe. Thank you for still calling your mom. I love getting to share in the details of your life.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. I’m thankful for the passage of time… it means I’m still here!
“That wasn’t on my (current year) BINGO card,” is a phrase that became common in 2020 (if it wasn’t before). Pandemic, tsunamis, killer bees… I forget all of them. It gave me an idea. What if I made a 2024 BINGO card of things I want to happen? A typical BINGO card has 24 spots. Now to think of 24 things I want out of 2024. Some will be stretch goal type things and some will be more realistic. All will be positive and/or bring joy.
I’m not sure I’ve seen this done before. I’ve seen a month long type document of things to do each day, but this is just 24 things for the year. Interesting. It’s not really a New Year’s resolution. It could include daily things like “drink plenty of water,” or “journal daily.” It could also include bigger items related to jobs, finances, travel etc.
I’m going to start filling mine out. I think this will be a fun take on a vision board. I don’t plan on beating myself up if I don’t have a “blackout BINGO” by 12/31/24. Just a fun thing to switch the focus. Would you be interested in seeing it once I get all of the boxes filled in? I can tell you for sure that I have 9 ideas already. Do you have some ideas to share?
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May your BINGO card be filled with fun and challenging things. I’ll skip the killer bees on mine!!
Sorry I missed “writing Wednesday.” I was fulfilling my duty of being 50 and getting a shingles shot. I was fine Tuesday, but had a 101 fever Wednesday and just needed rest. Today is much better.
“Team hammerhead” excelled at trivia last week and we tied another team, then tied in the tiebreaker and came out winning. It was a fun date night as we get reacquainted with each other. This week, we are trying another trivia night. We’re trying out some new local breweries and sampling their food too. We have some favorites so far, but there are still more to check out.
Even though our nest is not officially empty, it sure is empty more often than it’s full. I guess it’s not something we were fully prepared for. We spent 7 years together before we had kids, then the next 21 years raising them. If someone did mention this phase, I’m sure I brushed them off/didn’t listen. There really should be a list that gets passed on, called “These are the things nobody tells you.” It would be a long list. Although it still might not matter. Often we are too wrapped up in our current stage in life to think about the next one. We also aren’t guaranteed any of these stages so it’s wrong to assume they will happen.
With a year and a half before graduation, we are slowly spending more time together. It’s one of the things we weren’t really expecting. Luckily, we still get along pretty well, so we have that going for us. It’s also adding to our life experiences and using some of Cam’s endless (previously thought to be kind of useless) knowledge. Although I will say, I have gotten some right answers myself.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Regardless if your new journey takes you to trivia nights or not, enjoy your time together. It’s one we shouldn’t take for granted.
Here are four of my chickens. I haven’t shared many pics of my ladies lately because they have been molting and haven’t looked very good. The light tan one (Butterscotch) is the latest one to molt. You can see the spikes on the back of her head – those are her new feathers coming in. Our chickens have molted every year, usually in the fall. They lose a majority of their feathers and new ones come in. While they are transitioning, they look pretty rough.
While I was on a call with a mentor of mine, she suggested I post pictures anyway. We all go through our own forms of molting, even as humans. It might not be as visible as it is with chickens, but we all have periods of our lives where we don’t look or feel so great. We still need love (& treats) during these times. My chickens LOVE watermelon, so this was a big treat for them. While they are molting, they don’t lay eggs. Their bodies are putting energy into re-growing those feathers. Hens might slow egg production when the season changes and there is less daylight (& cooler temps). All of these factors, plus the fact that they are four years old, means that they are currently not laying many eggs. They still get treats. I still tell them they are good chickens.
We are (generally) so much more compassionate with others than we are with ourselves. We forget to give grace to ourselves when we are in our molting phases. You’re not broken, wrong or unloveable. You made it through one molting season, you’ll make it through another. We may be less productive for a period of time, but we are still loved, still important, still valuable.
If you’re going through your molting season right now, hang on. Have a snack, get some extra sunlight, take a walk, talk to a friend… whatever you need to do to spark a little joy. A little joy is a reminder of the good. It doesn’t mean you’re ignoring your current state, it just means that you have hope.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Excuse me while I give the chickens some more watermelon and go buy some eggs!
It’s a quote from the movie, “Step Brothers,” but it’s what I was thinking about recently. I had a lovely pause/trip to CA. I was able to work remote, spend time with my sister, complete a few projects, see a musical, run/walk a Rock n Roll 5k, kayak with otters & seals and so much more! We were discussing podcasts, and The Holderness Family podcast is one of my favorites. I told her, “They don’t know it, but I’m pretty sure we are best friends.”
I’m not a stalker. I have not reached out to these people. I follow them on social media and listen to their podcasts. I didn’t see them on “The Amazing Race,” but they did win it. I just feel like we are similar and we’d probably be along, in a strange way. We are close to the same age, both have 2 kids and we have similar personalities. Penn has ADHD and is very creative. Same with my husband. Kim is an introvert and needs to recharge after too much people-ing. Same with me. Aside from Penn singing & playing piano, I feel like he and my husband would talk for hours. Kim and I would get into a deep (non-superficial) conversation, but be blunt about when we need to leave. I’d learn pickle ball to hang out with them.
Having a best friend is a strange concept as an adult. Kids become best friends because they’re in the same class or same neighborhood or same activity. Adults may find people through their kids, or it may be kind of random. I stepped out of my comfort zone a few years ago and went on a weekend retreat where I knew nobody. I came away with several friends. Many of whom I keep in touch with, and a few I’ve gotten close to. I realized the other day that I’ve been here (in this town) 7 years. I still feel like “the new person/outsider,” even after all this time. You never know when you’ll connect with someone and spark a friendship. I’m sure I have more friends to meet yet.
I miss the friends I fell out of touch with. I often think of the times we spent together. I think of people I used to work with. I think of the neighborhood we used to live in. I guess in some cases, Best Friends Forever might be Best Friends For a while. People may come and go, but think of the additional people you get to meet and new experiences you get to have.
Maybe someday I will meet Penn and Kim, but I won’t hold my breath. Until then, I’ll be thankful for my friends – past, present and future. Thank you for coming along on my journey.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. You are enough and you always will be – even if people come in and out of your life.
Normally, this time of year we have a bunch of mini pumpkins and gourds. This year, we just have this small basket. But it screams fall to me, so I’ll keep these for myself (and perhaps my deer friends who have been eating my hosta.) Our garden took a hit due to the hot, dry summer and my husband working on the front and back steps/patio. I kept up with picking, but not enough watering and weeding. That’s ok. We still had things to bring to the market and have food in the freezer.
I haven’t written for a while, which is a little unusual for me. I’m a pretty regular weekly writer – even if I do lose track of days. I guess I needed a fall pause. I haven’t felt very inspirational, and there are some things going on that are just too personal to share. I’m fine, I just have some background things happening that I needed to focus on.
Sometimes we forget to pause. We rush from one thing to the next. This summer was busy with work, market, gardening, canning and family time. There wasn’t a lot of pausing. Even our trips are packed and full of walking/adventures. I’m grateful to get to go. I just forgot to give myself some grace.
I also forgot that it is ok to be both…
Both busy and needing a break
Both introverted and needing to talk
Both loving family and needing time alone
Both grateful for what you have and craving a change
I often feel like I need permission to pause. Busy is rewarded, yet pausing feels selfish (when I do it). I’m aware that it’s necessary, it’s just not always supported.
So, if you’re in need of a fall pause, here is your permission. Take a break, read a book, have some extra water, go for a walk, meditate, pray or just take a deep breath or two.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. May you take some time to pause. You’re worth it!
This week, I had my yearly oncology appointment in Fargo. I took the afternoon off from work and drove up there alone. I have no concerns, so I didn’t really need anyone with me. I already knew my latest MRI was clear, my A1C has been really good, and aside from some extra tummy weight – I’m in pretty good health. I don’t know how many times I’ve walked into the Roger Maris Cancer Center since December 9, 2014. It’s quite a few, that’s for sure. I honestly felt like this would be the last time. I parked my car in the ramp and I paused on the sidewalk. I asked for God to be with me and for my angels to surround and protect me. There is a lot of dense energy in a cancer center. A lot.
I checked in and took my spot in the waiting room. I glanced around the room, noting that I was still one of the youngest people there. I opened up my Colleen Hoover book and didn’t get very far before I heard her call my name. She weighed me in the hallway (which I’m not a fan of), and walked me back to the room. The last several times I’ve been there, I was in room 7. This time, I was in room 9. “Something is different today,” I said to myself with a hopeful grin. I got asked all of the standard questions and she left. My doctor came in shortly after, shook hands and opened my chart. We went through the last scans, talked about my blood sugar levels and general health. He handed me the pink gown for the last time and stepped out of the room. Nothing concerning happened during the exam. The lumpectomy site is still tender, more than 8 years later. I just avoid sleeping on my stomach. Otherwise, things were good.
“I don’t think you need to come back here, unless you have any issues or concerns. Feel free to reach out though if you do.” Music to my ears. If you would have asked me 8 years ago if I would feel comfortable ending my oncologist visits before 10 years was up, I would have said you’re crazy. But today was different. I felt a confidence I didn’t know I had. I felt a sense of relief and gratitude to be able to close this chapter. I shook his hand again and said, “I hope I don’t see you here again. No offense.” No follow up appointment to schedule, no half day to figure out with work and other activities. This was it. I got dressed and walked out of room 9.
I walked out of the cancer center as a man was helping his frail wife. They had used the valet and were waiting for their car. As I walked past them, I hoped that she would one day be able to say good bye to this place too. I walked towards my car and figured I should document the sign. And I took special note of the “exit only” part. Yes, I will be only exiting today. I’m ready to be done. As I sat in my car, tears filled my eyes and I wasn’t really anticipating the emotions I was feeling… relief, gratitude, closure, joy. I texted my family and some friends and told them the good news. A sigh of relief.
Some people don’t like the phrase cancer journey, but I do. I think of it as a journey because there are twists and turns, highs and lows, mountains and valleys. It’s so much better if you’re able to have someone along with you on your journey and to have a great navigator. I feel like cancer took things from me: confidence, physical changes, time with my family, changes in my personality & the loss of some friends. But, it also gave me things: importance of self care, a spiritual community, the ability to ask for help, renewed relationships, and my renewed love of writing. I am so thankful my chapter has ended how it did. I know not everyone has a happy ending, and I’m grateful mine is. I honestly felt like I set down the baggage when I walked out of that building and felt more free.
Will I stop writing about this? Probably not. But I’m in maintenance mode now. It’s different. I’m not sure how to explain the shift, but it certainly has shifted. If you’ve been though this journey with me the whole time, thanks for sticking with me. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. Now that this chapter is done, I feel like I can move forward with writing my next book. It will be a healing process and probably difficult to relive some of those memories, but good will come from it.
I wish you peace on your journey of enough. Hug your loved ones, take care of yourself and get your yearly screenings done!
These are some of the turkey hens and poults in our garden. It’s a turkey buffet now. Shade, food, water… they have it made. And it’s predator free. Raccoons had been wrecking our garden and they are dangerous to have around for chickens, so we trapped them. But removing the raccoons removed the predators for the turkeys. And our cat has been indoors due to an actual cat fight (multiple), so he’s no threat to them either. He lost his meow and has several scars. We’ve upset the ecosystem and now we have 4 hens and 30 or so babies hanging out in our garden. Hopefully they are eating lots of bugs. They have been trampling the straw and walking all over the beans. The raspberry plants are pretty popular with them and they like the carrot and beet area because the watering over there is like a mini fountain.
We still get deer in the yard. They don’t bother the garden much… it’s fenced but not super high so they could jump it if they wanted to. They prefer to eat the bird food that spills out of the feeder or they stick their tongues in to get the corn. You can’t really “turkey proof” a garden. They fly. So even if we put mesh around the bottom, they would just fly over the top. Putting the a net over 2 acres isn’t realistic either. I’m not sure. They supposedly eat potato beetles, so I’m hoping that is true.
Until more raccoons wander over from the state park, I think we might just have to deal with our new turkey friends. A ripple effect. I often think about ripple effects in life. One small moment or decision may seem like no big deal at the time but the impact lasts for years and often magnifies. Over 30 years ago, I flirted with the man who would become my husband & that had a ripple effect. Two sons and countless adventures later and hopefully more adventures on the horizon. What would our lives look like if we hadn’t taken that chance? There still would have been ripples in our lives but it wouldn’t be the same.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Never underestimate the impact you have on others.
Didn’t Organize, Only Moved. D.O.O.M. Say what you will about Tik Tok, but I certainly have learned more about ADHD from that app than anything else. Granted, I didn’t know where to look for resources either. We always assumed my husband has it. Our oldest son was diagnosed, but there wasn’t really any help or explanation or anything. Women are often not diagnosed until later in life. It makes me wonder if I should get tested. But if I did, then what? What would change? I’m not sure. I hear of so many traits that are ADHD related and I relate to so many of them. It kind of makes me feel normally abnormal.
D.O.O.M. piles are on that list. Paper is a big one. When the boys were little, it was their school papers, or mail. Now it’s work papers, receipts to be entered for the farm business, mail, thank you notes, a hundred notebooks partially filled with work notes or journal notes or manifestation/affirmation notes. The piles get moved if I know someone is coming, but otherwise they just tend to accumulate. It’s frustrating and I dislike it greatly, yet I feel like I cannot clear it, put it away or organize it. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve referred back to one of those notebooks. It rarely happens. Once I write it down, it’s out of my head and disappears from my thought bank.
Some things I want to move, but they aren’t mine, so I know that if I move it, someone will ask me where did it go? Then I will have to try and remember where it is. Keeping mental track of all of the things is exhausting. It’s a giant file cabinet that is heavy. It weighs me down like an anchor, yet I cannot get rid of it. I go in spurts where I will try to clean it up and downsize or get rid of things, but it doesn’t last. If I run out of time before someone comes over (if I’m aware they are coming), then those doom piles just get shoved into a bag or a closet.
It’s pretty vulnerable to admit this. I’m not sure why I feel so ashamed of it. I have had people help me purge stuff before, and I occasionally go through things and organize or get rid of things. Yet the doom piles remain. They creep back like an unwelcome pest. They make me feel like a failure. I feel like a terrible housekeeper. I have friends who have similar homes, yet theirs don’t bother me. I also have friends who have homes that you could walk into at any time and feel like you were at a spa or a B&B. Our house isn’t large so it doesn’t take long for the clutter to feel overwhelming.
Aside from paper, there are other doom piles in my living room currently. I won’t go into specifics. Yet the three of us will walk by most of this stuff, unable to make the move to clear it… until I know someone is coming over.
I don’t have a solution to D.O.O.M. piles, I just recently learned about it and wanted to share with you. So, if you stop by and I don’t know you’re coming over, who knows what you’ll see. Baking nights prompt a kitchen clean up, but the baking also makes another mess. I’m not off the hamster wheel yet.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. If you too are familiar with the D.O.O.M. piles, you’re not alone. Now I’d better go move some papers.
I sat there in my blue hospital gowns and pants, waiting. Listening to their conversation and trying to think positive thoughts. It’s been almost 3 years since I started working from home. I’m aware now that the “office small talk” is something I no longer have. I don’t hear about people’s lives and what’s going on. I don’t hear about weekend plans or what’s happening with office dynamics. I used to have best friends that I worked with, but that was years ago. When I was promoted to be a supervisor, many of those friendships ended… they all changed. It left me guarded, hesitant to open up. Eventually I became friends with coworkers again when I stepped back from managing people. But then I moved. I let go of the comfort of familiar friends and departed into unfamiliar territory.
For some reason, I’m still guarded. I assume it’s a “self preservation” tactic… guarding my heart from potential heart break. It also means I’m missing out. Missing out on connections and deeper friendships. I waiver back and forth between being ok with a small inner circle and feeling like I wish I had a large group of friends to do things with. I do have close friends, but I don’t have that big group… the “let’s go do something all together” type group. I don’t know what is right or better. It’s different for everyone. When one of my closest friends pulled away from me, I went through a grieving process. I felt like a puppy, wondering what I did wrong. I still long for those days when I can text or pick up the phone at any time, but I can’t. It’s different. Our paths diverged and I just wasn’t ready for it. I closed up more, put up another layer of walls, even though I know I shouldn’t. I need to let go of the “should’ve done” and stop reliving what I think I should have done differently.
Things at work have changed a lot over the last 6 months. I still have my job, which is great. I’m not sure where my writing will take me, as it has to be a night and weekend kind of thing. It’s still a constant struggle of feeling good enough. If I spend all this time writing, would anyone buy the book? If I try to write copy part time, will I get enough clients? I’m still learning to let go. I’m still trying to build up the confidence that I know lives deep inside. Maybe because it’s not a “one and done” event… it’s a constant evolution.
Why was I in hospital gowns? Routine MRI. Still makes me pause. Reminds me to be thankful for all of my years cancer free. Gives me 45 minutes with just my thoughts and a really loud MRI machine with an IV in my arm and my chest through a hole in the table. I can’t run from my thoughts or get distracted with a pile of clothes to fold. I’m letting go of fears… acknowledging them but releasing them. They don’t serve me well.
What do you need to let go of? Emotional? Physical things? Expectations? Fears? The past? Give yourself some grace and some space as you work though it. I’ll be there too.
Peace be with you on your journey of enough. You’ve got this, you can do it.
journeyofenough 