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And Then There Were Three

August 14, 2014

First Child: Chatterbox, worrywart, sensitive soul with big, big heart

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Second Child: Wild woman, devourer of anything chocolate, free spirit, blessed with neverending zest for life

 

Third Child: She’s still a mystery! (An adorable one.)

 Welcome Isabel! Apparently three is the magic number….

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Endings and Beginnings

June 23, 2014

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The college I went to was all women, and friendships and relationships there felt like a sisterhood. In those first few weeks as a college freshman, I was so thrilled and excited by my new life that I was barely interested in eating—my jeans were baggy around my waist; I couldn’t wait to get to the next activity or hang out with friends. There was such a feeling of newness unfolding around me everywhere, of adventure, of excitement, of me being able to own who I was and what I was going to do with my life.

Through successive years, that never went away. I loved every moment, every experience, every class, every teacher. I’ve often thought that if I could stay in college forever, I would have. (Aside from cafeteria food and communal showers.)

This past weekend, two of my closest friends from college and I met up for a reunion. It was a chance to catch up and go over old stories—many of which I seem to have blocked out, starring me (mostly at concerts) being brazen and bold. (Am I still that girl?) On Sunday, two of us went to an alumnae reception to honor our now-retired favorite English professor, a woman who pretty much defined my academic college career. Not only did she help establish my standards of excellence, but she also threw her all into being a role model outside of class, the epitome of confidence, professionalism, and decorum. As an English teacher myself, I have often summoned her in both my preparation and presentation, thought of her often, kept in touch, and tried to do my best to channel her energy and her ideals so that I could have as positive effect on my students as she had on me. (I don’t think I ever got there.)

On the same day, the cousin who was flower girl in my wedding had a graduation party to celebrate the end of high school and beginning of college in August. My son starts summer camp today, where he knows no one and will hopefully make a bunch of new friends. And I, of course, am waiting for this baby in my belly to stop elbowing and kneeing me in the ribs and come out already and join our family, which is exciting and scary at the same time.

Life is in so much transition, with so much up in the air, so many endings and beginnings, so many moments of happiness mixed with anxiety and stress and fear. All I can really do is sit and marvel at how quickly time passes, how rich my life has become as a result of so many beautiful and deep emotional experiences. I don’t feel sad, necessarily—I’m more stunned by all of it, how things happen at their own pace, how little control I have, how we all close and open doors constantly in our lives and can have a profound effect on the people around us.

I only hope that I can do my best to be in the present moment in each stage of my life, to acknowledge the vastness of human experience as well as my individual blessings, and to hold all these people and moments—as Quakers say—in the light, deep in my heart, carry them with me wherever I go.

 

 

 

 

*Sorry for not writing more on this blog. My time is very consumed with kids, family, and editing/running The First Day.)

 

Image: “Rosemont College” by Tom Ipri via Flickr.

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Seasons of Life

January 21, 2014

Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? –Stevie Nicks For a couple of years, I walked nearly every morning. I got up early, when the house was still quiet, put on my sneakers and headed out for the same two-mile trek through my neighborhood. Even in […]

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The Year of Joy

January 3, 2014

Maybe it was the cold weather or the new year, or being stuck inside with my kids for days and days, but driving on the highway New Year’s Day, I became viscerally aware of all of my flaws. Here’s the shortlist, in case you’re curious: I am not always good at loving people the way […]

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My Christmas Song (Which Doesn’t Rhyme)

December 24, 2013

When I was in college, I mentioned at the cafeteria dinner table that I just didn’t feel that Christmas spirit anymore. Maybe it had to do with writing ten-page papers and studying for finals (ya think?), but I didn’t feel the same zest, the same joy as I remembered from being a kid. My friends […]

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Thanksgiving Poem

November 28, 2013

I’m no Sharon Olds or Lucille Clifton, but today’s a day to be grateful, not judgmental. I’m learning to let my guard down and let all the imperfections slide…. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.     Before Thanksgiving I am thankful for the moon last night A flash of crescent that lit up the […]

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SuperWoman Makes Progress

November 1, 2013

Here is one sure sign that SuperWoman is progressing as a yogi. She went to her regular 9 a.m. yoga class this morning. Nothing unusual. She left feeling wonderful, refreshed, free from tension. She knew she would need a snack when she got home, and her favorite snack lately is Ritz crackers and peanut butter. […]

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Me and Thich Nhat Hanh

October 30, 2013

Apparently, a person who practices yoga is supposed to have a guru. At least that’s what I heard from Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love. She had (or has) one, but she doesn’t reveal who it is in the book. All we know is that it’s a woman, which is cool enough. There are so many highly […]

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Practicing

October 11, 2013

I’ve feel like I’ve been neglecting my little blog. I hear her calling to me, saying Remember me? We used to be best friends. Why don’t you visit anymore?  The truth is, I’ve wanted to visit, but I’ve been trying to stay on top of all the other endeavors I’ve been pursuing in recent months. Not […]

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Ode to Coffee (and a perk)

September 15, 2013

  I miss you. Your long hair swirling in the atmosphere Your musk reaching from a tall cup.   We had a love affair for many years Quick rendezvous in the kitchen, between breaths and babies’ cries Or dates in a dark-wooded shop, your warmth tucked between my palms.   Since I left you, I […]

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