Aint No Party Like a Peoples Party!

It's been a long time, Readers. Are any of you still there?

Hellooooooooooooooo?

(That was me echoing into the dark and never ending abyss of the Internet.)

I want to tell you a little story. A story about changes that occur within the heart. About moments easily missed when hidden among other moments that look almost identical. Except that they are not. Like a four leaf clover nestled against all his three leaved brethren, you'd pass it by if you weren't looking closely.

I have been so lonely.

So.

Lonely.

I don't talk about it much because, well, there isn't anything I can do about my current situation. He's gone all the time and I'm here with the kids. The end. Fin.

This past weekend saw the dumping of over two feet onto the Baltimore and DC metro areas. This snow came atop the few inches that we already had. It dealt swiftly and deftly in it's silently falling beauty and rendered hundreds of thousands of people without power, roads undriveable, and people basically, stuck.

What do you do when you're stuck to keep from losing your mind, I asked my Facebook friends.

And one of my friends, Caroline, whom I have always admired for her spontaneous and outgoing ways suggested that I have a party in the lobby and invite my neighbors. I instantly thought it a brilliant idea and began working on a flyer to post in the lobby. But as I sat in front of the computer to type it, a silent and unnamed fear crept up my spine and began to whisper things in my ear.

No one will come.

You will be sitting out there all alone and no one will come.

It will be just like team sports at school and you will be left standing last. Alone. Waiting for someone to choose you... but no one will.

And for a moment I entertained these thoughts allowing the fear to cripple my heart; to freeze my fingers before the keys. But then I stopped and asked myself, who have I become? This is not ME.

There is a joke within my family that you could drop me from an airplane and I would have made dinner plans with new friends before I hit the ground. Maybe this was true. Before. But before when? Before what? I don't know when this shift occurred; when I lost that inner spark that compels me to talk to strangers; to beckon them into my home, to pry gently into their minds. The desire to know the hearts of people and to show them mine. But nevertheless I thought it gone.

As I sat in front of my computer entertaining the slanderous words of the fear perched atop my shoulder and began to consider the person I was: free and so fun; I decided just to BE HER. Because I AM HER. She is ME. And so I flicked fear in the nose and began typing. I affixed one flyer to the entrance of my building and one to the mirror in the foyer, and like Moses's sister watching from the banks of the Nile I waited for someone to pass my note.

People began to stop and look and chat about it and I ran back to my apartment to prepare. I made what were probably the worst cookies of my life due to the fact that some stray, uncooked black beans snuck into the batter somehow and became quite a nuisance when bitten down upon. But I planned to serve them despite that fact. I was also taking my two bottles of Shiraz that I had planned to ration for myself throughout this storm. But what good is wine if not enjoyed in the company of others?

From time to time I would venture into the lobby to peek at my note and see if anyone had taken it down, and at one point I saw an older couple that I had exchanged pleasantries with looking it over.

"I put that up", I said. "I thought maybe everyone would like to get out of the apartment for a bit."

"What a wonderful idea!" they both exclaimed and agreed instantly to contribute to the wine and cookies with a stash of their own.

I thanked them both and we agreed to meet in the lobby at seven.

The clock seemed to move in slow motion, it's hands stuck in invisible molasses, but slowly, surely, it eventually came to rest at 6:45 and I headed to the lobby thinking I would be the only person there.

But I was wrong.

There sat Jack, the male half of the older couple I had spoken with earlier. He sat on the blue, contemporary couch in the lobby with his hands folded neatly in his lap as The Macarena played loudly on a small stereo he had set up near the neatly placed box of Franzia, Dixie cups, and M&M cookies. My heart instantly swelled and filled with a warm love for Jack and his stereo and his box of wine. No, I wouldn't be alone. It would be Jack and Jill, and even if no one else came, the two of us would share in this together.

But then something happened.

People began to trickle in! Introductions were made and smiles exchanged. With each person that showed, my grin grew and my heart expanded. I felt at home within myself again. This is what I was born to do. Be among people. Share in their joy; their heartache.

People would ask whose idea it had been to throw this party and inevitably someone would steer the person in my direction and they would shake my hand or hug me and say thank you and what a wonderful idea it had been.

One woman even stood before us all and with a quiver in her voice said, my name is Carla*, I live in apartment 615 and I have been very lonely, please come visit me anytime. In that instant I knew that the whole thing had been worth it if only for meeting that woman and hearing those words. I have been longing to reach out to someone and share in their suffering if only to ease the burden, to make them laugh. And here she was. And for the rest of the night we stayed close to one another and I saw a glimmer in her eye as she continued to bring people my way to introduce me as Jill, THIS IS JILL, She is our hostess, this is her party.

People continued to come throughout the night, all ages, many nationalities, and each bringing a food or drink to add to the growing assortment on the table. With each new arrival my heart expanded and the warmth of happiness spread like a blush across my face. Sometime in the middle of the festivities I met the neighbor that lives directly across from me. I have only seen her on one occasion and even then she was quick to duck into her apartment and shut the door.

I said hello, touched her arm, and introduced myself. In the first few minutes of talking to her I learned that she had lost her family in Jerusalem only a few years before and as she told me this, tears began to fill her eyes and I felt the mountainous, cavernous sorrow that lived in her heart. I held her hand and asked her if it would be OK for me to come and visit her and she silently nodded. I learned that she is an artist and since moving back to the US, has become quite anti-social. I laughed and said," well, in that respect we share something."

When it was all said and done, I had been thanked more times than I can recall, drunk too much wine and learned a lot about people and myself. We're all lonely and we all benefit from the company of another but so many times we don't know how to reach out and make that connection. Sometimes it takes one of us, taking that step, flicking fear in the nose, and just doing it. And I did it. And I am glad.

There was a unanimous consensus among the group that the party had been a raging success and because of that, we should all meet on a monthly basis in the lobby. I agreed.

Whatever you do unto the least of these......

* I have changed her name to respect her privacy.

Happy Birthday Ellie

Dear Elsbeth,

My Love.

My Bright and Shining Muse.

My First Born.

You are three now and the world is an even more interesting place to your inquisitive mind. Your range of questions seems, at times, to be a never ending stream of words coming from your mouth and it is all I can do to keep you supplied with an answer before you have the next question for me.

I love it. I want to fill you so full of knowledge that you will burst at the seams and that knowledge will spill out and effect all who surround you.

But that is only sometimes. Other times, well, you have ALL the answers already. And that has proven difficult for us both. You are quite certain that milk is a sugar-free product and very safe to drink in bed. Unfortunately there have been many tears shed over this fact because I refuse to acquiesce and you are sent to bed with a cup of water.

I have finally met my match in the Will Made of Steel department. There are days when I want to be the one who gets to cry. And sometimes I do. In secret. And then I tell myself to suck it up. I signed up for this and IF I do this job right. IF I can channel your will and your energy in the right direction over the years, IF I can build a strong foundation in your heart, OH the person you may become! You were born to lead. But these years......

Yes, they are the wonder years, but they are the trying years too. I know it's hard for you sometimes. You're just figuring all of this out, and I...... Well, I'm your guide. I was given to you to arm you with the tools to navigate the storms of life. I am your teacher, I was given to you to show you how walk, how to talk. How to BE.

I yelled at you the other day, and I am sorry for that. You told me that I hurt the ears of the mouse that has been plaguing us recently. (Most everything is that mouse's fault according to you) As soon as the words passed my lips and my heart, I felt sorrow. And I apologized to you almost immediately. I hope you always say you're sorry when you're wrong. And even if your act was justified, I hope you still say it just to soothe the heart of the person you hurt. After I apologized, I explained to you that I was so upset because I had been asking you to get dressed for thirty minutes. "So, what do you think I should have done?" I asked.

"Whispered it to me," you whispered.

So, for the rest of the day anything I wanted you do do, I asked it in a whisper. And you know what? You did all of it almost immediately! But, that was only a day and the next day presented us with it's own set of challenges.

You have taught me, the girl who lived from one hapless moment to the next, the girl you would have forgotten her head if it weren't attached. You have taught me to always look ahead, to be prepared for the next situation with you. And I have taught you to be prepared for what's to come.

We took a ride on an airplane last year and several people scoffed at the "practicing flying" that we did together. For more than a week, I would take your little toy suitcase that we had packed with toys and together we would go through all the motions of what it takes to board and fly on an airplane. We made it a game. We went through security and took our shoes off, we waited in line to board the plane, and then I held you in my lap and simulated takeoff and turbulence so you wouldn't be afraid when the real thing happened. Oh, how we giggled as I jostled you around on my lap!

But you know what? When the time came to really fly, you were almost an old pro. And I realized that I had been right in doing what I did. Ellie, you have taught me to listen to my inner voice that knows how to be your Mother. Because a part of me is a big part of you. I understand you. But.....in those times when I don't. You have taught me to ask for help.

In the last few months your imagination has exploded into something wondrous to behold. We make circuses and villages with your collection of figurines (most of which are unicorns) and you have different voices for everyone and make them "talk". This is one of my most cherished parts of the last year and I try to mentally videotape the things you say and these pretend games we play together. I could sit for hours and just ask you questions (Kinda like you do to me) Just to hear your answers.

You are whip smart, stubborn as hell, and in possession of a most tender heart.

I marvel at you.

I adore you.

I pray that I may rise each day to meet the new challenges that being your parent entails.

And I hope that when it is all said and done, and I have left this Earth, that you will have become the person I catch glimpses of in my mind's eye. And that even though I will be gone, a part of me will go on. For we are two different shaped garments cut from the same cloth. *

*I am fully aware that this parenting business is a team effort on the part of my husband and myself. I could not do this without him and am AMAZED at the Mothers who do it on their own. This post is simply about my relationship with a daughter who is much like me in spirit and my experiences with her. I acknowledge and praise the partnership I have had in the creation and raising of my children. My husband is a better Father than I could have ever dreamed of and for that I am grateful beyond words.

The UN-Christmas

Spurned and motivated to write about the things I observe; in the spirit of my last post I am going to continue on the theme of possessions because it is something that becomes so prevalent during the Holidays.

**Because I love this band. Because their music speaks to my heart. I think you should let this play while you read this. And then when you're done with that you should google the lyrics. I hope they speak to you as well**

I was a girl with too many shoes. Too many bags. A closet full of the results of a compulsive spending habit. A soul full of baggage. A sole resting on names not easily pronounced. And then came Katrina. I know I keep talking about it, but understand, it was the pinnacle of changes that occurred and helped to shape who I want to ultimately become.

I once was blind but now I see.

When you stand before the mirror with nothing other than you, it is much easier to find yourself. And so I did. And for once, without all the things that had once surrounded me, in stark minimalist contrast, I liked what I saw. Freed from "the stuff" I was able to catch a glimpse of the person inside of me that I could become if I was able to let it go. I liked her. I wanted to reach that woman I saw.

And so I took steps to get to her. It is not an easy thing to change the person you are. But in a culture so swept up in the wave of credit and consumerism, I did not want my children to face the same demons as me. Children are the biggest motivator I've ever encountered, and for them we got rid of cable. One dragon slain. I took an advertising class in college that said to have an effective ad, you must create a NEED in a person that otherwise hadn't existed. There are people whose sole job is to make you and your children FEEL that they NEED things. No more, not in this house.

And so, following advice that I had often heard but repeatedly ignored, Jeremy and I put ourselves on a cash allowance. At each paycheck, we get a sum of cash to last us until the next paycheck. This covers everything: dining out, clothes, entertainment, eve.re.thing. It's funny how quickly I was able to stop spending money once I had a small sum of it in my pocket that could dwindle. It's funny how my views on what was a necessary expenditure changed. The pedicures that had once been tantamount to my survival and sanity were now a thing of the past.

I learned to save for something I wanted. This may seem a tired idea to some reading this, but I come from a generation who was not prevalently taught to pay themselves first. To save. Why? We have credit cards for that. Practically free money. But this is not really about money. Money is just the facilitator of what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the ever hungry beast. Desire. It leaps like flames at your heart. Compelling and possessing you. I'm talking about finding that place between need and want. Desire and contentment. It is a hidden place. Some of us are born knowing how to find it. Some of us are taught. And then there are those like me who have to have everything taken from them to realize that it was really there all along. Just hidden among the clutter.

But this journey to who I will become is an endless one and there are yet many bumps along the way. And I still stumble and fall.

I made a trek recently to that suburban mecca of desire, consumerism: THE MALL. It had been so long since I had visited one. Another conscious decision. I entered and the beast long dormant, awoke. Hungry. I was consumed with it. It ate at me in a way that made me sick.

If I could head home, arms heavy-laden with shiny bags with smooth rope handles, I would be so happy.

All my life needed to be complete was the entire first floor of Nordstroms and a grande Gingerbread latte.

Oh Apple store, O Apple store!

How faithful are your products!

But.

What I really wanted most of all?

To posses the tiny butts and legs of the Asian women who the place was crawling with.

Wow. The Seven jeans logo really looks good on their bums. Each pocket is the size of one cheek.

If I was only a size 2 I would be forever happy.

And then I pulled my head out of their, er, my butt and reminded myself of what I was dealing with. The pretty carrot on the stick, always dangled just out of reach. The eternal happy just on the horizon line. The mirage. And that self check, that knowing my foe, gave me the strength to face it head on. And walk out of there nearly empty handed*.

I will never be in possession of things that will keep me happy; I will never be a size two. But I have learned to be content and appreciate, love, and care for the things I have. And to save for the things I really need or want. I like who I am becoming. I am enjoying this journey to the me that was hidden under the clutter. I hope I am able to teach my children these lessons so that they don't repeat my mistakes. But if they do, I'll be there to hold out my hand, brush the dust off their hearts, and point them in the right direction once again. And, for awhile at least, we'll walk this road of life together.

I am thankful for all of my family, and dear, dear friends who have been essential in helping to shape the person I want to become. I hold you all, my dearest possessions, on a special shelf in my heart; taking down my memories and lovingly polishing them before carefully placing them back on the shelf. I glean from all of you pieces of who I would like to become. You are teachers of life, and I am your grateful student. And that? That is better than any truck load of shiny bags I could ever receive. Thank you and Merry Christmas.

*I did walk out with my sole Christmas present. The new iPhone. It was anti-climactic. Although I do like that I can take videos and easily send them to the Grandparents.

The Tale of the Cheerful Giver

The lovely ladies and I have been gone for a week. Oh, Indiana. Oh, family. Oh, home. Oh, constant, constant presence in my ever changing, tumultuous life. As much as I know I am needed here and wanted to be reunited with my Husband and have us be a whole family again, I had to practically rip myself away from my parents. I depend on my Mother and Father for so much more than I ever dreamed I would. Had you told me that when I was 17, my head would have spun around nine times as green spew frothed from my mouth along with a string of obscenities that would make a drill Sargent proud. How life has changed me. The bumps along the way, they have somehow softened me and what was once a brittle heart. Just like a Timex.

Takes a lickin and keeps on tickin

I went home for a week to celebrate Christmas with Family and to have a birthday party for Elsbeth (who turned three: big, fat OMG!) because there are a bounty of cousins and family and children of my friends close in age to her. The fun and depth of the birthday experience is deserving of it's own post, although it may just remain a fond personal memory. Let's just say between her party and the Grandparents, the girl, once again, racked up.

As I was unpacking today I stood in her room wondering where we were going to put all of this new booty. And then I had an idea. I recently saw something online about the high number of families with children in homeless shelters in the DC area. So, I proposed my idea to Ellie.

"Ellie", I said, "there are a lot of children this Christmas that don't have any homes and probably won't get any toys for Christmas. And since you have so many, what do you think about giving those children some of yours?"

Her eyes lit up, sparkling with innocence and glee, "Yeah!"

And then she asked me for a bag and when I brought it to her, she began to fill it with toys. But not just any toys. Some of her favorite toys. All the while exclaiming to me how much these children would enjoy playing with them. Just to make sure she understood, I got down on one knee and explained to her that we were GIVING these toys away and that they would now BELONG to the kids forever.

She nodded, smiling, and said " Yeah, I know Mommy."

I thought Katrina did a pretty good job of making me impartial to material possessions. I'd lost them all before, so I could easily give them all up again. That is, until they belonged to the daughter I didn't have during Katrina and she wanted to give them away. Her favorites. For the a moment as she joyfully bagged her beloved possessions, there was a brief struggle within my heart.

NO, it said. Help her choose things that she doesn't play with. She NEEDS those things! They are HERS! You spent thirty dollars on that! And then a thought so quietly and simply floated into my heart and made silent the inner argument. It is the still, small voice that I sometimes choose not to hear. But this time I heard it.

Sell all your possessions and follow me.

The dialogue changed from NO! To: Do not stifle or limit her cheerful giving. Let her give freely anything that she wants. And I accepted that. The moment that I did I was freed from an unknown weight that I didn't even know I was carrying. I was liberated and it was liberating. We filled bag after bag, me following her lead on what to give. The smile never left her face and the glimmer of a soul brimming with innocence and joy spilled out of her eyes like shards of diamonds.

As I sat on her bedroom floor with the baby in my lap, a mess of titanic proportions surrounding us, I realized that this moment was a life lesson not only for her, but for me as well. I am the teacher and the student. This time it was the child who taught the teacher.

And a little child shall lead them

In the end we managed to fill almost three large grocery bags with books and toys.

Things

They come and they go

of this, I know.

But what we learned

Was

Forever

I Walk Alone

**To fully experience this post, please press play on the video before you begin reading. Thank you, and enjoy your flight.**

It is past seven when he walks in the door. I have two hours left to get all the things I need before the stores close. The baby is asleep and I hurriedly toss out some instructions regarding the dinner that is in the oven as I put on my coat and head out the door.

Armed with an umbrella and two reusable shopping bags, I walk alone under the nearly bare trees and through a maze of puddles accompanied by only my thoughts. OH MY THOUGHTS, how I have MISSED you! My life has become a cacophony of incessant chatter punctuated by bouts of crying by one or both of my children. And I love them, OH I LOVE THEM. It has just been quite some time since I was able to begin a thought and follow it through to it's end without someone waking up or yelling," MOMMY, WIPE MY BUUUUUUUUTTTTTTT!" from the other room.

I walk alone and ponder the nature of God. The beauty of this life; a flock of ten thousand starlings against a gray Autumn sky even seems beautiful in it's lack of color. Head lights and neon signs reflected in a rain puddle and then gone in the splash of a tire. It is only a two block walk but I take it slowly, breathing deeply, remembering as much as I can of these few moments. I will save them in that special place in my heart and pull them out again someday.

Climbing the steps to the store, I look into the faces of each person and wonder who they are. I want to KNOW them. All of them. What makes them beat and tick, who and what do they love? I want to run away with them to a place where we can almost see our thoughts as they float above us in a cloud of smoke while we drink tea from places of which I've only imagined going. But. That's just silly.....the heady whims of an ambling dreamer. And so I push them back down into the deeper corners of my soul and pull the grocery list from my pocket.

"The avocados are ripe this time". And just like that the thoughts are gone....who knows when they will return. I have switched faces, gears; persona's. Back to the business at hand. Pull my head from the clouds. And while the business at hand may not be as heady, it has it's own subtle and intense pleasures; feeling a dozen skins in pursuit of the perfect apples, the warmth of a baguette fresh from the oven, thinking of the people I love and hand selecting items with which I will create something to warm their bellies and souls; pouring my love into it like batter from my heart.

I saved 10 cents bringing my own bags. This time as I walk home I try to figure out how much I will have saved over some time. I've never been much good at math. As I walk with a bag in each hand, I imagine I am a Dutch girl with wooden shoes and two buckets of milk hanging from a stick across my shoulders.

Upon opening the door, I am greeted with the smell of dinner and exclamations of MOMMY'S HOME! My heart swells and like a flock of ten thousand starlings, may take flight.

And Then There's The Babbies......

Ellie(ism) #1.....

Normally everywhere we go, people stop to coo and fawn over Ari, she's a baby, what can I say? Well, when this happens, Ellie is most often found standing by making mean faces and being rather disagreeable to anyone who's in her path. I attributed her behaivor to a bit of sibling rivalry.

Yesterday, we were taking a walk and a young woman walked right past us without smiling or even acknowledging us. Ellie was shocked. With an indignant look on her face, she yelled out, "HEY, she doesn't like our baby! She didn't want to look at her or talk to her!" And then she ran over to Ari and held her hand reassuringly. In that split second I caught a glimpse of the future. Of broken hearts by mean, mean ole boys and a pair of sisters comforting one another and reassuring the other of their respective charm and beauty. The preciousness was palpable.

And then there's the babbies......

Ellie calls the pacifier a babbies, I dunno. Anyway, we had broken her of them before I went back to Indiana recently by letting her cut the ends of them into the trash with "grown up scissors". She was free of them, like a junkie come clean, and THEN. And then driving back from my In Laws one day, she was bawling like you had just dismembered a kitten in front of her while pooping on a DVD of Toy Story. Yeah, it was THAT bad. She didn't want to go home with ME, her MOTHER. She wanted to stay at Grandma's where she is the sun and we are all just caught in her orbit.

Well, if that didn't make me feel like crap, so I did a terrible thing. I had a pacifier in my purse for Ari (who wants NOTHING to do with them) and like some back street pusher, I offered it to her to quell the pain.

"Here man, take some a this, you know, in a few minutes, you'll forget aaaaaaal about Grandma's. Yeah, thas right, just set back and enjoy."

And oh boy, had I started something. The addiction came back tenfold. It has been a battle of nearly apocalyptic proportion every time I try to take away the bakers dozen she carries around at all times.

I sat and contemplated how to deal with this. The subtle ways it could be handled with a minimum of tears and heartache. I was at a loss for any good ideas. But I knew one thing. They had to GO. And it needed to be yesterday! So I explained to her that she was too big for them now and we were going to go to the toy store and let her pick out a new toy that would take the place of the babbies.

As we pulled into Toys R Us, her eyes filled with tears and, grasping at straws, she hurriedly said, "That's OK Mommy, I don't need any new toys. I have good toys at home." I explained to her that this WAS going to happen and wouldn't she like a new toy to make the transition easier?

"B-B-B-But I'll really miss my baaaaaaaaaaa-biiiiiiiies!" She cried.

"It WILL be OK Ellie. I had to give mine up too and Uncle Gordon and Daddy and we were all sad too, but we were all OK. You can hug and snuggle your new toy when you feel sad about your babbies and that will help you feel better."

"OK", she said in a small voice.

As soon as we entered the doors the babbies were all but forgotten. She ended up picking out a tiny family of tigers that came with a plush little sofa. When we got to the car she reluctantly handed over the pacifiers and I traded her for the tigers.

Bedtime went off without a hitch partly due to the mound of unicorn books we checked out of the library, and this morning she asked me for them once and when I reminded her that they were gone and, well, she was fine. She was MORE fine than I would have given her credit for.

Moral: A few tears initially are worth enduring to spare yourself a mountain of them later.

New York Part UNO

I remember when Jeremy told me he was getting deployed to Kuwait. I was pregnant and our daughter was only a few weeks old when we said good bye for what would be eight months. Despite the fact that I had temporarily moved back in with my parents, I was, for all intents and purposes, a first time single Mother. There was no one else to change the diapers. There was no one else to help me through the night times. There was no one else to say to this child, Hello, I am also in you. I see it in your eyes. My eyes.

My Mother was in very similar situations during my childhood as my Father was frequently away on business. I think I learned from her to steele myself. My Mother is tiny in height and frame. I have never heard her speak ill of another human nor have I ever heard her utter profanities...even when the dining room window slammed down on her finger and trapped it while I stood by like a chicken with my head cut off freaking the F out. She is beautiful, both inside and out and has weathered storms far beyond what I have had to endure and has come out on the other side, stronger, the victor.

I don't know if that strength, that resolve, is inherent or learned; forged, if you will over the course of time and circumstance. If I had to say, I would pick the latter. Because after years of watching this tiny woman with character of gargantuan proportions, I did what I had observed her do so many times. I steeled my will and resolved to BE OK. I can make no bones about it though, my Faith, her faith, were the compass that guided us through the storms, the anchor that kept us from getting lost.

So there I was, fifty pounds overweight, Husbandless, and with a baby for the first time in my life. I sucked it up and said, can I do this? YES I CAN! And I did so many things I may have never attempted if my Husband were there: Put together an exersaucer, work out for two hours a day, take out the trash. And in the end, when the sky parted and the sun shone again, and that storm was over, I was stronger, more independent. And while I love having my Husband here to take out the trash- one of his MANY skills- I don't NEED him to. If he had never gone, I don't think I would have learned that.

When we first moved here, it had been several years since I had lived in a large, urban area and never with children. I was admittedly overwhelmed and scared at times. The metro, the bus? By myself? Could I do it? YES I COULD! And so I swallowed my fear, dove in, asked people along the way for help. Because in one of life's great metaphors, if you get lost, despite what most men think, it IS OK to stop and ask for directions.

I have two daughters. I spend a lot of time thinking about what that means for me as a Mother. Raising two Daughters in our world. In a society that places unparalleled pressure on women to look and be a certain way. For now, I am the model for behavior that they will emulate and that is no light thing. I take my job very seriously. Just as I watched and now only hope to be a smidgen like my own Mother, they will (fingers crossed) do the same. The rest is up to Providence.

So when I recently booked a bus ticket for myself to visit my friend in New York, it could have been a daunting thing. But I knew that I could do it. And, more importantly, it was an opportunity to show Elsbeth that there is NOTHING we can't do. I had a plan, it was well thought out, everything else, our safety, all the details, I thankfully gave to my friend in Heaven.

And early on a Friday morning I drove to the metro, put Ari in the Baby Hawk, Ellie in the stroller, with one hand pushed the stroller and with the other hand pulled a suitcase and got on the train. People helped me every step of the way. The kindness of strangers is a beautiful thing. We made it to our stop and managed to meander through the crowd on their way to work, find two elevators, and then walk two blocks to the parking lot where the bus was waiting.

Because of some train issues, I had been delayed about 15 minutes and when I walked up to the bus stop, they were making their last call for our bus. We had JUST made it. And so, once again with the help of kind strangers, we managed to get our things loaded and got a seat on the top deck of the double decker bus.

This post was initially just going be about my trip to New York, but when I sat down to type it, as often happens lately, the bigger picture began to emerge. Yes, I took a trip. Which I WILL talk about at length soon. But more than that, I hope that in my resolve to accomplish whatever I set my mind to, I taught my Daughters that while the World may at times be a big, scary place; while circumstances may appear as though they are going to swallow us up whole and spit out our bones, there is never anything to fear. I hope that they learn not to be paralyzed by fear, not to NOT act because of fear. Go forth boldly, and succeed, or fail trying.

That being said, will you ever see me jumping out of an airplane? NO, because well, that's just plain dumb.