The Evolving Nest
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In Filling Your Nest

Well, Here We Are…

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Photo credits on this story to Canva

In this too-big, too-empty house that was way too small for so many years

Years that seemed like they may never end and yet went by too quickly- and without our permission 

If only we could rewind 

So many years of schedules and sports and tasks and homework and projects and tests and assignments 

Of early mornings and late evenings and toys and smelly athletic equipment all over the place

And now- what?

Where’s the pitter patter, the banging and crashing and yelling and screaming and whining/complaining and hugging and cuddling (so much cuddling) and good morning/goodnight kisses

and laughing 
and laughing 
and laughing

The calls to “Bring me this,” “Can you pick me up?” “Where are you?” “ Have you seen my…?” “This is due tomorrow” and “I’m HUNGRY!” are no more

The busy practice schedules and game lineups by which we set our calendar are missing, and the days and nights, and weekends are now wide open: fluid

EMPTY

There is no frantic pace nor time to be home or wake up early or drop everything to take or pick up

No hurried trips to the store for this or that and no creative menus to prepare and to watch be enthusiastically devoured 

Gone are the excited bursts through the door announcing victories or accomplishments or team news or funny “Guess what happened today” or “Can you believe…” or “Promise you won’t get mad” or talks about heartbreaks or observations or big plans and dreams 

Now there is SILENCE

The messy rooms are all cleared out, just spaces where echoes of childhood remain

There are no more shoes and fishing gear and book-bags and sports stuff on the porch (which would normally be a good thing)—except, sadly, there is no prospect nor anticipation for them to return

And so here we are 
Trying not to look back
Not sure where the hell we are supposed to look 

As we try to navigate, define or redefine this life that has wrapped and captivated and occupied and made us who we’ve been for so long 

But not nearly long enough

There is accomplishment and freedom, pride and relief

But the “Big, Wide Open” is terrifying 

Like coming up for air only to find that you long to dive back down deep and stay there 

So now we wait
And take it all in
And take a deep breath
And a million more

In this too-big, too-empty house where the silence is deafening.  By Dr. Mary Jo Almeida-Shore

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In Overcoming Challenges

Anyone Else Been in a Funk?

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arizona desert
Arizona Skies

𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 “𝙅𝙖𝙣𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙂𝙪𝙣𝙠.”

I had been riding high from the holidays with everyone home and the excitement of following our big kids around the country as we watched my daughter’s college team win game after game—until they didn’t. They made it all the way to the National Championship, but it was another team’s day to win it all.

Fiesta Bowl 2022

Georgia deserves a big congratulations, but this isn’t about football.

This is about feeling stuck with no apparent good reason why. When you’re muddling in the muck, but you can’t quite put your finger on the cause. When you don’t even recall how it started.

When you’re feeling unmotivated and lethargic, and you know you “should” snap out of it, but you can’t see a way out.

𝙃𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙮?

When it’s dark and it’s cold outside—day after day after day.

So you try to do all-the-things: (𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.)
▪️Keep a daily journal of everything we are grateful for
▪️Stick to a routine
▪️Get outside in the sunshine…(if we can find it.)
▪️Eat healthier
▪️Exercise for at least 20 minutes a day
𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝘼𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚?

A few days ago, I created a post that read, “A beautiful day begins with a beautiful mindset,” but I couldn’t post it—I didn’t have it in me. Adding to the toxic positivity already splashed across social media felt fraudulent.

𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙄 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩—𝙩𝙝𝙚 “𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙚𝙩” 𝙦𝙪𝙤𝙩𝙚. 𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

Last night I told myself I was done feeling this way. I was going to wake up with a more positive outlook, and poof…the fog lifted.

𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙣𝙤, 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮…

I do feel better today, and I have been thinking about why. The obvious is that two days ago, I traded the dark, rainy days of the Pacific Northwest for the sunshine of the Sonoran desert in Arizona. But after much consideration this morning, I think there is a more compelling reason.

𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙. 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬—𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙨 𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙.

As a recovering “avoider” and a lifelong “stuffer,” —sometimes it’s still hard to share with anyone, let alone my husband when I am not feeling so great, especially after he planned this little getaway to the sun for us.

𝙄 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙.

And somewhere in the “I don’t know why I am feeling this way conversation,” I was able to unlock the floodgates.

Saguaro Cacti

My angst spilled into the dry river bed, which hugged our hiking trail as we wound through the saguaro cacti and the prickly pears. I left it in the dust, both literally and figuratively.

𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙.
𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙣.
𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝙫𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙.

And today, as I sipped coffee as the sun rose over the Sonoran foothills, I felt more at ease. I realize all my challenges can’t be washed away in a day, but I sure felt lighter as I watched the sun spread its vitamin D across the valley.

If you’re feeling this way, I encourage you to reach out and ‘𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙.’ Sometimes just knowing we aren’t alone makes all the difference.

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In Life With Your Bigs

Traveling With Our Young Adult Children Can Take On Many Unexpected Forms

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Girl on phone
Photo Credit Canva

Recently, I realized I’ve done a lot of traveling with my young adult children. However, I’m not referring to family vacations or even the multiple trips back and forth to their current homes. The traveling I am invited to occurs via phone calls initiated by my big kids as they go about errands and work on homework.

Sometimes, I go to Target and virtually keep them company as they shop for items. Once in a while, I accompany them on a drive-through line to their favorite fast food restaurant.

Other times, I walk with them back from class to the dorm. There is no agenda outside of simply connecting and listening. And then, there are moments when I am put on speaker mode, and I sit in silence while homework is worked on. The reason? To simply sit in their presence.

These moments could easily be perceived as inconvenient and mundane. Truthfully, the calls sometimes interrupt my agenda. However, it is a blessing when your big kid initiates the connection. It is something I never want to take for granted.

I wish we could have done more traveling together on vacations when my kids were young. Yet, traveling together and building bonding moments can look like a lot of things. I am learning to be thankful for all of them.

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In Filling Your Nest

Last Drops…

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By Debbie Prather

My husband was out of the country on a work trip and while caring for our two boys, I counted the seconds until his return. 

The first days of his absence had been rough, but this one started and ended, almost, uneventfully.

I fed dinner to our then four-year-old, Brett; nursed our then six-week-old, Collin; and somehow got them both in their beds, sleeping soundly. I couldn’t believe that I had, possibly, an hour or two of quiet in front of me and anticipated reading a newly checked out library book.  

I made food for myself by heating up some kind of frozen Mexican dish. I enjoyed it immensely. It wasn’t the taste, certainly, but the peacefulness surrounding me as I ate. 

Within fifteen minutes of the last bite, though, I knew something was wrong.

My bra became uncomfortably tight and soon after my pants did too. I felt nauseous and my head spun. I ran into the bathroom and before rushing to the toilet, I instinctively grabbed the garbage can from under the sink. I needed both for the collection of what began swiftly and simultaneously. I’d never been sicker and barely had the capacity to contemplate the phrase, “food poisoning.” 

I’m not sure how long I stayed like that, in a sitting, bent-over position, retching and moaning, before I heard, “Mommy?” Brett had woken up and was standing in the doorway. “Momma, are you okay?”

“I’ll be okay, honey,” I whispered. “Please go back to bed.”

“The baby’s crying,” he said. Because of his words, I tuned into the faint siren I was hearing in the distance. I soon realized it was our newborn wailing. How was I going to feed him?

“It’s alright, go back to bed and I’ll get him as soon as I can,” I said.

Brett did as he was told and I continued suffering there, praying for the sickness to leave me as fast as it came. The crying grew louder, filling me with intense anxiety because I wasn’t able to get up.

After another length of undetermined time, I glanced to see my big boy, once more nearby, looking scared but determined, his hands packed full. He had his One Hundred and One Dalmatian comforter bunched in one arm and his distraught brother, balancing like a doll, in the other. 

“Careful! Bring him to me!” I said. “Hurry!” 

He did and I took the baby in my arms. When I saw his little mouth, wide open with indignation and hunger, I did what only a desperate mother would do: I put him to me, where he fed heartily, and I was shocked that there was anything left and became vaguely aware that I might very well be doling out the last drops of fluid sustaining me.

There’s not much else I remember about that night, except that we camped out in the bathroom, the three of us. 

I was weak, but we all survived – myself, somehow, a stronger human, emotionally, than I’d been mere hours before. 

Enduring tough situations does that for us. 

And there were, without a doubt, hundreds of other challenging, unexpected, painful ones to soldier through during the many blessed years of raising our sons and our daughter. 

The difficult times become our stories to tell, family lore and legacy, told, often with humor and full-body emphasis, only after enough healing time has passed from the event. 

Now, in a new season of life, when I share these kinds of tales with our grown children who are currently contemplating the idea of babies of their own, they become badges of honor; tokens of pride that display that it wasn’t always easy, no, definitely not, but we made it through, hand in hand – together, sturdy, and strong.

Those (God-willing) future parents listen and look at us with an extra dose of awe and respect, wondering what adventures, or trials, may await them. 

They laugh and shake their heads, entertained and also forewarned, with a secure heart knowing that they were and are so loved and cherished, then and now, that we’d still give them our last drops of anything just as, someday, they’ll do for their own.

Isaiah 54:13 All your children shall be taught by the Lord, and great shall be the peace of your children.   

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In Adventures in Empty-Nesting

Am I Really Empty Nesting? Now What?

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Boy with backpack

“You’re posting all these stories about empty-nesting, and I haven’t even gone back to school yet—you aren’t really empty-nesters,” joked my twenty-one-year-old son.

As if I wasn’t already suffering from imposter syndrome as a want-to-be-blogger. Now, I was being called out by my own kid—for my ‘𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘆 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵.’

“Well, your sister is fifteen-hundred miles away, doesn’t that count for something?” I tossed back. (I can’t believe I am actually having to justify whether or not I can call myself an ’empty-nester.’)

“Not really,” he shook his head, not giving an inch, “and then there will always be John…”

“Yes, that may be true,” I agreed. John is our twenty-four-year-old son who has autism and still lives with us. He does not want to move out, and we love having him here, so it’s a win-win.

However, at times I do feel like we have a renter upstairs. John has a busy life with work and daily activities, so when he’s home, he likes to retreat to the peace and quiet of his ‘apartment’—“No Visitors Allowed.”

So maybe by some standard, we at least qualify as ‘quasi empty-nesters’?

All joking aside, this is a new season for us, with our youngest having just left for college—I know it is a new chapter in many of your lives as well. For most of us, there have been years of these little bursts of energy swirling through our lives, our homes, and most importantly, our hearts. So after the whirlwind of laughter, late-night snacking, football, soccer and basketball games, tennis matches, and band practice subside, there is most definitely…a void.

Of course, they’ll be back for the holidays—thank goodness. For turkey and stuffing smothered in grandma’s special gravy, their favorite apple pie, and opening gifts on Christmas morning. Sure it’s a magical time, but it’s still not the same as when they lived under our roofs full-time…(insert ‘a sigh’ here.)

Fortunately, in an effort to help me prepare for this new chapter in my life, my mother gifted me with a golden piece of advice a few years ago. She told me to “find something you would like to try, or you would love to do and get started BEFORE your youngest leaves for college.”

And, so I did that just that when I launched this blog, The Evolving Nest—Empty Nesting & More, about two years ago. Maybe for you, it’s not about writing or blogging or podcasting, but I hope you will see this time in your life as a chance to try something you’ve always wanted to do. Now, is a great time to rediscover interests you may have set aside while you were raising kids.

Ask yourself–

What did you use to like to do?

What do people ask you to get involved in or compliment you on?

What kinds of books, podcasts, and activities do you gravitate towards?

What lights you up?

What leaves you drained?

“Listen to the whispers,” a friend tells me, because everything you do or decide not to do, is leaving you clues.

I truly believe if we stay open to the possibilities, this season in our lives can be a time of amazing growth, new connections, and beautiful opportunities. The world is waiting-you are never too old, and it’s never too late—to discover who you were truly meant to be.

P.S. Just for the record, my son is back on campus. Maybe now, we can officially call ourselves ‘quasi empty-nesters.’

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In Filling Your Nest

Are Our Nests Ever Really Empty?

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Two birds in nest
Two birds in nest

Shortly after saying a tearful goodbye to our daughter on a campus far away, her older brother decided to join my husband and me for a few days of golf, paddle boarding, and relaxing at our cabin in the mountains.

As parents, these are the moments we breathe into with gratitude—when time blesses our hearts.

Soon he will be headed off to school as well, but thankfully at a college less than an hour away. He is close enough to golf 9-holes with us in an afternoon, then grab a bite together, and still make it back to campus in time to hang with his friends for the evening.

As our adult children spread their wings, many parents, like us, are finding unique ways to stay connected with their kids.

Our oldest son, who has autism, has chosen to continue to live with us, and we feel truly blessed. We’ve turned the upstairs into “his apartment.” When we are all home, he comes downstairs to tells us “he loves us,” and heads back up to his sanctuary. Fortunately, he’s very independent and loves his daily routine of work and activities, which keeps him fulfilled and engaged.

I saved the best of our ‘𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵’ for last—my husband.

We. Are. Still. Here. Together.

We built this nest, and we are looking at this next phase as an exciting opportunity—rather than an empty one. We have been intentional about what we would like the next few years to look like, and are excited to experience this new chapter as it unfolds.

We are looking forward to more spontaneous outings, dinner with friends, and a renewed intimacy. We also know, just as we become accustomed to living with two fewer bodies in the house, the holidays will be upon us, and we’ll all be together again.

And isn’t that what is really important? It doesn’t matter if we are all ‘home’ in the same nest or not. We are a family because of our love for each other and because we choose to stay connected no matter where we all live. And that is the kind of nest that will never be empty.

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In Adventures in Empty-Nesting

“𝘿𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙛?”

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Father son golfing

“𝙈𝙮 𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄’𝙢 𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙞𝙩’𝙨 𝙚𝙭𝙝𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.” DM’d a reader after I posted a picture about having fun golfing with my husband and some good friends one evening.

Having successfully avoided playing golf for the first 40-some years of my life, asking if, “I really enjoy golf?” Does beg the question.

And the answer is, “Yes—kinda.”

The real reason I golf is because my family golfs. My husband LOVES to golf. Many of my friends play golf. It’s all about connections and a chance to laugh and play together.

Father son golfing
Father and son golfing

My husband told me years ago one of the things he “would like more than anything is if I would learn to play golf well enough to enjoy it with him.” 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙄 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙣𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩?

Well, I did actually—when the kids were little. The thought of getting a sitter for 4-hours (to play golf) was not on my radar. Even when my husband surprised me with clubs one Christmas years ago, he could not get me out of the course except on a rare occasion.

Today, things are different. The kids are older; they can all fend for themselves, and I want to find ways to spend time with my husband—so I golf. If my husband and kids are going to golf for a few hours and they have asked me to join them—and I choose not to—that’s my loss.

My twenty-something son golfs and our daughter, when she’s home from school, is willing to drive around in the cart with me. It’s a win-win. I get to spend all afternoon with my husband and adult kids, and then we typically enjoy dinner afterward. What a blessing!

The reality is I am not that great of a golfer, but I am learning, and I get a little less frustrated playing the game today than I did have a year or so ago.

Do you know what I do when I’ve swung my club way too many times trying to get that little ball down the course? I pick it up and throw it. It’s called keeping up with the ‘Pace of Play’ so I am not frustrating everyone around me by playing too slow. Whatever works…

I hope by sharing this with you, it will encourage you to try something new. Consider an activity with your spouse, kids, or friends, even if you are worried you might not like it or you won’t be any good. For me, it’s more about creating memories with those I love than whether ‘I really like playing golf or not.’

“I’ve learned…that it’s not what I have in my life, but who I do life with that counts.”-Unknown

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In Adventures in Empty-Nesting

Changing Spaces—A love letter…

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girl walking on college campus

A few short weeks ago, our daughter was graduating from high school. This morning, we flew her halfway across the country to begin her freshman year in college. Her older brother came out of his room to say goodbye, singing, “Leavin’ on a jet plane, don’t know when you’ll be back again…” We laughed. It cut the tension we were all feeling.

I woke early. My husband said I snored so he 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 kicked me all night. I’m surprised I slept so deeply. Ugh—I’ll have to start using my automated snore pillow again. 

Welcome to midlife!

As I hurried around the house before everyone got up, trying to clean up for ‘who knows why’ while we’re gone, all I could think about is how messy my closets are.

How did they get so unorganized? Why didn’t I organize them when we were in lockdown? I had all that time, and I didn’t get anything cleaned or organized. 𝘕𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦 𝘒𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰-𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦.

I know what I am doing—I am avoiding “it.” 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

I’m avoiding thinking about the giant void my daughter leaves behind. The one filled with infectious laughter and the funny, contorted faces she makes when she springs to life 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩.

And the other void where she enters a room at full stride—in mid-sentence—spilling the latest tea. She hates it when I need her to back it up a little, rewind. “Mom, I already told you about so and so…” 𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛, 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓.

Noise and commotion also have a way of filling up spaces. My daughter’s girlfriends came over last night to wish her well and keep her company while she packed. I could hear them laughing and stomping up and down the stairs as they helped her load everything into the car for our early morning departure.

Then she yelled, “We’re headed to Taco Bell.” Laughter, chatter, and patter of feet shuffled out the door—then silence. 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

This is how it will be, quieter, for a while anyway.

Her two brothers are still at home. They will easily fill some of the spaces she has left behind. Their friends will come over, and jokes and laughter will fill the air—the TV will inevitably drone on.

The boys each have their own unique way of filling the spaces in our home. It will be comforting to have them home for at least a few more weeks.

But there are some spaces only a daughter, our only daughter, can fill. The space where she’ll let me hold her when she’s sad and hug her until she pulls away with a snarky, “Okay, now, Mom.” As if I didn’t know I was holding her just past ‘comfortable’ on her hug-o-meter.

It’s a good thing she picked Texas. Texas is a big state with lots of open space—she’s going to need all of it. I can’t wait to hear about all the people she meets, the subjects she studies, and the places she goes.

Facetime, family-group texting, and eagerly awaited phone calls will bridge some of the space between us.

She’ll come home for the holidays. Her laughter will again fill the house. From experience with her older brother coming home from college, I know that some spaces will be forever changed. Still, new and exciting dimensions will continue to be added.

There is no holding her back, even if I wanted to—which I don’t. The world is a big place, and I’m excited to watch how she chooses to fill up her own unique spaces in her life.

With much love to our daughter, Mom XOXO

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In Midlife Reimagined

Don’t Let Them Tame You

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Wild horses
Wild Horses by Pixels

“Are we going to see the wild horses?” my not-yet-college-bound, have-to-be-dragged-everywhere, youngest asked. “You promised.”

We were on a college visit trip with her older brother.  5 colleges in 5 days.

The drive to see these mythical creatures on an exotic island was about an hour out of the way and I was exhausted from tours about professors/safety/dorms and hotel rooms with weird smells/bad breakfasts/non-working hot tubs.

But my memory of the picture on the cover of the book, Misty of Chincoteague, a beautiful wild horse, and her foal, drew me in and convinced me to keep said promise.

As we pulled into the park and made our way to the restrooms before embarking on our glorious, out-of-the-way adventure, signs warned not to feed the horses as they may bite and to ensure our safety by staying 40-feet away. This was exciting!

Bladders empty, we were ready!  We couldn’t wait to see these wild creatures, prancing in the sand dunes and uttering high-pitched neighs.

What happened next was stranger than strange.

We rounded the corner and there was a horse, in the middle of the parking lot.  Not prancing. Not neighing. Standing. Still. So still, we thought it might be a taxidermist’s latest “stuffing” project.

We got out. Walked around it. It did NOT move. Just stood there. We did see it take a breath, so we surmised it was alive and didn’t belong at the local Cabela’s.

The “wild horse ” in the parking lot

We had so hoped to happen upon a wild, prancing, neighing horse, enjoying the sands of Virginia beaches and its ability to roam FREE.

But what we found was more like a TAMED mule ready to plow the fields under the guise of some master who needed to get things done.

As we ventured on the park pathways, we saw a few more horse/mules milling around, and I can assure you that we were not scared, or excited, not even one little bit.

We got back in our cars and my mom thoughts took off into those mom places only they can go.

Are these horses like my kids?

Longing for adventure, FREEDOM, and curiosity to discover, hope, and dream?

But standing around, TAMED, bored, and controlled because of how me, as a mom, and society, as a whole, has directed them?

Don’t bite.
Stand still.
Be quiet.

Don’t stand up for yourself (your true self). Fit in.
Do what everyone else is doing. Stay in the box.
Control yourself at all costs.  Never color outside of the lines.

College visits.
What everyone else did.
What we were supposed to do.

Over the next days, I kept coming back and back to my thoughts and these horse-mules and my kids.

I did not want them to be mules.  I wanted them to be horses.  WILD ONES.  Not TAMED into submission to some arbitrary set of rules that who knows who made up.

I wanted them to be FREE.  To discover, hope and dream.

I talked and talked and talked to them about it.  And then talked some more.

Guess what happened?

My college-bound son said, “NOPE.”
He decided to take a gap year.
He enjoyed the end of his senior year without the pressure of choosing.
He never went to any of those 5 we had visited on that trip.
He discovered a school that made his heart happy.
FREEDOM.

My baby watched him intently.
She spent an extra year with him, the two of them becoming the best of friends.
When it was her turn, she chose an out-of-the-box school where she could get her Bachelor’s degree in two years. Two long, hard years.
She moved to California at 19 to pursue her dreams, graduation behind her.
She wants to win an Emmy.
FREEDOM.

Guess what else happened?

I began to wonder the same thing about me.

Do I have the FREEDOM to discover, hope, and dream?

As a middle-aged, regular, mom who has always played by the rules?

Who didn’t bite, stood still, and was quiet?

The answer:  YES.  YES, I DO.

I might stand up for myself.
What if I forge my own way?
Maybe I will even draw my own lines to color inside.
We’ll see how it all plays out.
It’s going to be good.
FREEDOM.

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In Marriage Stories

Marriages Are Built On A Lifetime of I Do’s

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Couple at sunset
Photo by Arthur Brognoli from Pexels

Marriage is not easy, my friends. And we hear this a lot. We’re told that marriage takes work. But do we really hear that message? We may know that marriage isn’t a fairytale, but are we really prepared for the effort required to make marriage successful and fulfilling for the long haul?

Our 30th wedding anniversary is today and I’ve been reflecting on our marriage and marriage in general. Somewhere along the way, I went from being a Wife in the Moment to being a Mom in the Moment, and while in theory, I should have found a way to be both perfectly, in practice that wasn’t so easy.

Even if we think we know what to expect from marriage going into it, there are just some things we can’t be fully prepared for. We may be used to working through the obvious issues, but it’s hard to be prepared for the way having children can impact our relationship. Yes, becoming parents enhances our relationship in so many ways – but it will also most likely add some strain to it.

In the early years, we moms face constant demands on our time, endure exhaustion from sleep deprivation and feeling needed all the time. This often leaves us feeling touched-out and craving time to just crash on the couch. We may feel like we don’t have much left of us for our husbands, and not only does this cause our husbands to feel distanced, it often leaves us feeling guilty.

Before I became a mom, I was really good at being a Wife in the Moment.

Back when we were a couple, and before we became a family, everything was about us. Plenty of couple time, time spent with friends, time to exercise together, time for trips together. We invested so much beautiful time in each other. Of course, I’m well aware of the guidance that reminds us that a happy family is dependent upon a happy marriage. And that the marriage relationship should always be paramount. I’m just going to be honest here, and I think many moms will relate….sometimes this is easier in theory than in practice.

Even after we became parents, the change wasn’t immediate. It happened gradually. We slowly lost some of “us” along the way. Little things added up, and less time devoted to each other exacerbated other issues that would have otherwise been tended to and worked out. Spoiler: we have found our way again and worked out these issues. Where there is love, there is hope. It sounds obvious, but the first step forward in hope is to be mindful of investing consistent time in the “us” relationship. Date nights are great, but simple time together is recharging, too. It can vary by the week, as long as there is a conscious connection. A walk, coffee, or iced tea on the patio and eating dinner separately from the kids are all easy ways to create a connection.

Sydnei and her love of 30+ years

While time is an essential building block of a strong relationship, another important factor in strengthening our love and relationship is good communication. Being tuned in to how we are feeling and then being completely open and sensitive in how we share that. Sometimes there’s accumulated resentment over past disagreements or negative patterns that make it harder for us to communicate from a place of love. When this happens, there is no shame in seeking help. I can attest to the healing power of couple’s therapy. Having a neutral person listen and guide us back to healthy communication, and facilitate us sharing and working through our feelings and needs, was less complicated than it sounds. And it was transformative for our relationship. As couples, we should never stop working on our relationship. Life will throw us curveballs, but it’s up to us how we choose to deal with them.

Love changes over time. We may know that with our minds, but feeling it with our hearts is a whole different thing. What begins as butterflies and dreamy love transforms into deeper, through-the-ugly, intentional love. We took vows on our wedding day and we must choose to keep those vows. We must consciously choose to love each other each and every day…and strive to be both a ‘Wife in the Moment’ and a ‘Mom in the Moment.’

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