Posts Tagged ‘Family’

I can’t believe I’m into my third trimester of pregnancy already. I swear, sometimes I feel like time is just flying.

At 29 weeks and 2 days (7 months, 1 week and 2 days) pregnant I’m…

Feeling pretty good still. Although for the first time I’m starting to really feel pregnant. My stomach feels expanded, my left rib hurts, my back is sore and I’m falling asleep on the couch by 10pm every night but then waking up with crazy insomnia.

Loving the kicking and movement. As strange as it is (it really is odd at first) it’s been fun to share the movement with everyone else. The Husband can feel it at night when we’re sitting on the couch and she seems to be the most active and riled up. Sometimes she even keeps me from falling asleep because I swear she’s doing jumping jacks.

As excited, and happy and blessed as I feel and truly can’t wait to meet her I’m having these crazy strange nostalgic moments. Like sometimes I get almost sad thinking, it’ll never be just Husband and myself again (ha, or Husband, myself and Bentley). I’m also having these (more so fleeting) thoughts of I’ll never quite get to schedule things the way I want anymore – like just going to a flywheel class when I want to, or staying late at work. I know it’ll all work itself out and we will create a new normal, just like with Bentley, but it is interesting to go through this set of emotions too.

Also, I never even posted about the amazing babymoon weekend we took to Stowe, Vermont. If I could recommend one thing to do during pregnancy, this would be it. Let’s just say it was a lot of eating, sleeping and just relaxing and it was magical.



I’m also going through what I imagine is more nesting. Which I L-O-V-E. Hello can I just be that productive all the time? I hammered out 72 Christmas cards just because I HAD to the other night. I am constantly organizing, purging, cooking and cleaning and slowly feeling like things in the house have a place, and I love everything that’s actually in the house. The only struggle I’m facing now is that with being more tired the last week or so, it’s hard to do all the things I want (need in my mind) to do.

I experienced my first cold while sick and that was probably the most brutal thing ever. Everything hurt, and not being able to take a darn thing was really frustrating.

To be honest I’m also getting a little scared. Scared that I have no control over when I’ll actually have her. For all I know I could go early in the next 6 weeks – but then I could be late and that means I still have 11 weeks left! Scared that being out of work for a few months will make it hard to return – like I won’t be as good at my job anymore. Scared that I won’t get to see my friends as much and miss out on a lot of things. Scared that I’ll become one of those Moms that only wants to talk about babies, and baby things, and gives up her life. I know that’s not me and who I am, but I can’t fathom what this all will be like. I’m scared that I’ll go crazy with too much family time and help after her birth (everyone keeps scheduling trips and planning times to stay with us and help but didn’t really ask us what help is needed, and add in that the Husband’s parents want to stop by daily…) I know I can’t picture it and maybe I’ll appreciate the help but all I can envision is not getting a second alone with my daughter, bleeding out of many orifices, and trying to walk around half-naked to feed my child and then there are people…everywhere.

I’m scared that Bentley will feel so out-of-place. I’m so tired of people saying once we have this baby he will just become a dog or we’ll “forget about him” because I can promise you, we won’t. I love that dog fiercely and while I know he isn’t my child, whether it’s difficult or not – that dog is part of our family and will always have a place with us. Maybe not as big of a place in our bed though…

MUST be squished between us. (He appears much smaller than his 60lb body actually is.)

MUST be squished between us. (He appears much smaller than his 60lb body actually is.)

And truthfully, I’m most scared of messing her up. I constantly watch women and girls now – I can see these glaring insecurities, jealousies, unhappiness, and unfavorable traits and how do you make sure not to do something that will totally mess up your child’s life and cause issues like that? What if I say or do one thing, and it spirals into an eating disorder, or a need for the wrong attention? What if the Husband isn’t as active as I want and that takes a toll on her, and one that unfortunately I can’t fill because she needs her Daddy.

Somehow though, even among the fears and discomfort, it all just feels so right now, more than ever. I just cannot wait to start this chapter of our lives.

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I’m thankful I had such a fabulous last weekend. A fun Friday night dinner with girlfriends. A full day barbecuing with the husband, friends, and a new baby on Saturday. Easter was with the Husband’s side of the family, celebrating my in law’s birthdays, running around with Bentley in their huge yard and talking the details of our late summer Cape Cod family trip. So much quality family and friend time.

And Marathon Monday. Monday, oh Monday I’m so thankful for how you turned out. I took it as a vacation day. It was a gorgeous day. 6+ hours camped by the fences with friends and my sister, watching the marathoners and cheering for friends and any stranger with their name on their shirt running by. It was emotional, in many ways (I was an ugly crier much of the day), and now marathon Monday feels like a positive day again. And I think I’ve officially decided…one day I really do want to run a marathon. Just one.


I’m loving how attached Bentley has been lately. I joke that it’s annoying, but as soon I’m cooking dinner in the kitchen, he will come in with a toy, smash against me and when I don’t give in and play, he runs out, gets another toy, and tries again. It’s kind of the cutest thing ever.


Almost as cute as this.


After reading it for a long time on blogs, I finally tried cooking oatmeal in coffee last night, packed it up and took it to work this morning. Reheated with a little vanilla almond milk and shredded coconut, holy favorite breakfast.



I’m really thankful I get to sleep with the Husband. I joke about us trying to figure out how to share the bed nightly after years of being together, the fact that he sometimes snores (and maybe always has and I didn’t know?), talks in his sleep, smashes his pillows in my face (like nightly, seriously) etc. but really, I love it. I love purposely putting my cold feet in-between his legs right as he gets into bed. I love talking, and giggling, and pretending to steal the covers from each other as we fall asleep. I’m thankful that when Bentley sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night with stomach issues (no more whipped cream or ham for that buddy), the Husband hops out of bed to take him out. Most of all, I love waking up in the morning to our sun filled bedroom with him right next to me. It’s that intimacy that I always craved and missed, and now we have it. It’s no guarantee it’s forever, so I’m appreciating and loving every night of it.

I’m thankful that in just over a week I’m heading to St. Thomas with all the women in my family! I know I’m going to miss the husband and Bentley dearly, but… I CAN’T WAIT. SUN. SLEEP. SAND.

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It’s my four-year blogging anniversary.


Four years ago at this time, my heart was broken. It’s so funny how being heart-broken sounds like such a normal, common term, but at the time, my God I felt anything but.

I felt utter grief, physical pain, an ache so deep I remember waking up thinking my ribs were bruised.

I wasn’t eating and dropped to 125lbs at almost 5’8.

I was crying, somewhat openly to family and friends at first, then secretly, almost daily in my studio apartment.

Night time was the worst. 3am and somehow I’d always find myself crumpled and sobbing, shoulders shaking, on my bathroom floor.

I thought I would never get over B. At times I fantasized we truly were meant to be and we would get back together.

I spent a full year waiting, and hoping. Putting on a strong face, and being his friend. A full year trying to move past that heartache and yet one minor action, like holding my hand on our plane ride back from Ireland, or saying how much he still cared and loved me, would set me right back and I would start the heartbreak process all over.

It’s almost funny that now, I look back, and I am so incredibly thankful for that experience.

I’m thankful I felt love and loss like that, I truly am.

Sometimes I’m even nostalgic for that pain. It sounds ridiculous, but being heartbroken was the deepest emotion I have ever experienced to date.

Most of all, I’m thankful for who I became as a result of it.

I learned many wonderful things from B overall – he taught me to love myself and understand I deserved the best. He truly taught me how to communicate effectively and understand that fighting in relationships is never, and should never be about winning. He made me see an adventurous side of me that was waiting to come out.

But I learned the most out of my heartbreak time.

I learned to be independent.

I learned to love and appreciate my own time, with just me, writing, reading or relaxing.

I learned that I have the most wonderfully supportive and loving family and friends.

I learned that I could put my mind to something – finishing graduate school, getting promoted, signing up and accomplishing a triathlon – and be succesful, even without a significant other.

I learned that I could travel the world, Patagonia with a friend, for two weeks and enjoy every incredibly experience while there.

I learned, after that trip, to let go. That after experiencing the heartbreak you truly have to let go. And I remember the moment exactly… being in a bar in Chile, walking up to a cute guy and kissing him. Just like that.

I learned that opening your heart up and being vulnerable after heartbreak is harder. Much harder.

I learned that once I did, I would love deeper than I could have imagined. Because I finally found a love that loved me as me, even on bad days, and was willing and wanted to give me what I wanted most – a family.

And so it’s almost ironic, though I won’t tell her in that way, that my younger sister has found herself in the exact same place, at almost the exact same time in her life.

My sister has followed many of my footsteps, from college to even moving to Boston. At 24, just about turning 25, she and her boyfriend of about one and a half years broke up. She is utterly and completely heart-broken.

I can’t take her pain away. I can only help to support her, to distract her, and to help her pass the time. Because truly, the one and only thing that helped, was time. Time heals all.

And I hope that one day, a year, maybe four years from now, she can look back at her heartbreak and feel the same way.

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This article.

“Instead, my friends and family showed me what was permanent: love, support, and joy. Few words were spoken, but their actions were enough to drown out the voices in my head. Because of them, I can do anything.

Even an Ironman with a broken rib.”



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Bentley: 5 day update

Monday at noon we walked into the vet in New Hampshire and asked for our new puppy, “Michael”. The vet tech looked at us almost sadly and said she’d be right back.

Out came a yawning, shaking little guy. At first I thought, is that actually our puppy? The recent pictures the adoption counselor sent had made him look so big already. But this guy wasn’t, at 10 weeks he is tiny, and in that moment was clearly so scared.

He was also sick. Kennel cough and parasites. Apparently quite common, especially after the stress of transport but he had two medications we needed to give him.

I quickly picked him up and cuddled him to alleviate the shaking. The collar we brought, the one that everyone said we should just buy normal size so he can grow in it, at its smallest loop fit around his stomach. At that moment, I felt nervous and like a failure.

The car ride home wasn’t bad, he was still scared and slept a little on the seat across from me in the back. He seemed leery of us and exhausted.

Once home, he quickly fell in love with his bed, and slept. However, each time we moved he would wake up and follow us. We realized quickly that would had to keep him on the bed between us on the floor until we were ready for bed.


The first night… oh the mistakes we made. We felt bad when he started spazzing and crying in his crate so we kept the crate door open, blocked our bedroom loft off and let him roam if needed. We woke up at 4am to poop, pee and running around. Bad, bad idea.

What we’ve learned since then…

He loves being held. It’s really funny because he doesn’t necessary like cuddles when we sit down, but if you pick him up into your arms he relaxes and leans his head against ours. This is one of the few times he likes to give puppy kisses too as he burrows into our necks.

He needs to release energy and he has far more energy now that he is comfortable with us and our house. The second night we ran into about an hour of time where he was chewing our couch, biting at our legs, putting his butt in the air and barking and leaping everywhere. I honestly was scared we had a “Marley” on our hands. We soon realized, if we take him out on many walks and let him decide when it’s time to come in (he runs towards the home stairs) then he gets so sleepy and tired.




Happily tuckered.

Speaking of stairs… we are able to get him to go up the stairs now. However, down the stairs is another story. Our stairs are actually very steep and he is little – but if we try to take him near the top of a stair case to go down he FREAKS OUT. I’m talking whining, yelping, running in the other directions, spazzing sideways on the leash. Right now I’m carrying him down the stairs which is fine at 16lbs but… I can’t do that forever!


Speaking of sleeping… he actually loves his crate. We learned that whenever he goes in he gets one treat inside and a little peanut butter inside a kong toy. He goes in happily now and when we close the door he whimpers for maybe 2 minutes and then goes to sleep. He will stir or eventually whimper if he needs to go out to the bathroom (although we are currently setting alarms to take him out 1-2 times during the night just to be safe). He apparently was tired enough that this morning at 6am (an hour later than we normally wake up) when I went to take him out he looked at me, yawned, whined and walked to the back of his crate and went back to sleep! I gave him another 15 minutes and then turned the light on and he slowly made his way out. He apparently takes after my hubby already.


Puppy life is SO hard

In terms of training I was a little worried at first that he wasn’t that motivated by food or praise – but he sure is learning. He is great about showing signs of when he has to go potty – he sniffs around frantically in the house or he runs into the kitchen. Most times we get him down stairs on time but (our fault) we sometimes miss the signs and he pees inside. During the day he needs to go sometimes every 30 minutes! He has quickly learned though when he goes to the bathroom outside, then he sits and I click the clicker and he gets a toy and lots of praise. He seems to know “sit” but more so for the treat — now each time he knows we have a treat in our hands he runs to us and sits!

But oh, the chewing and nipping. He’s learning (and when we burn enough energy, make sure he naps, and do “no bites” and stop playing) he now nips less. But gosh the incessant chewing. He loves everything he shouldn’t. Our bathroom carpet, our couch, the living room rug, the wooden stairs, the metal chair legs…we have had to find many toys to attempt to rival what are apparently like crack big chew toys for him. Luckily, I just don’t care about most of our old stuff in this apartment – but I definitely don’t want that habit to start.


That chair was later removed as it became his favorite chew toy.

Honestly, I never ever imagined the work that went into having a puppy. I just didn’t know that it would be constant watching, constant training, and to be honest, constant worrying. I didn’t know how much of a worrier I would be but I worry – I worry he is still sick, I worry he could get dehydrated, I worry he misses his siblings – I just can’t stop worrying!

And yet through all the constant work and utter exhaustion having a puppy has made me realize…

I never imagined I could love an animal this much. Sure I loved Meatball my cat, but somehow it’s not quite the same. I love this little guy so much it hurts. And I just want him to be healthy and happy.

I never imagined it would make me fall in love with my husband more. To be honest, I feared that since the Husband never had an animal he would like play time but not the rest. However, he has been one hell of a team-mate. After working the overnight he still spends an hour tiring puppy face out in the morning, when he is home at night he does the night wake-ups, he is constantly taking him out for walks, cleaning up after him, offering to do things whenever I appear tired. He calms me down when I worry and even he hugs me when I cry and doesn’t make fun of me (yes, I was exhausted and overwhelmed and actually cried the second night).

Bentley has been one of the most exhausting additions to our life… but one that brings more joy and love than I could have ever imagined. So for all you dog people out there, I get it, I truly now get it.


❤ ❤ ❤

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I was just reading Thought Catalog’s article, 7 things your future self would tell you now and I loved all 7 things, but one stuck out.

Let yourself let go of what keeps you all pretzeled up inside.

This past Friday at work I had my very first panic attack. An actual, chest tightening, couldn’t catch my breath, choking on sobs while calling my childhood best friend in a work bathroom stall, panic attack. I was at the point of being irrational to be honest, and it’s embarrassing to even admit it (as those I know who have had them, I could never understand why they couldn’t rationally calm down) and yet there are obviously enough things I’m internalizing that made me finally snap.

The combination of my Grandfather’s girlfriend passing, work stress, not getting to see the Husband and moving were some of the bigger things you’d think caused it. But really, they weren’t. They were probably the straw that broke the camel’s back.

And my childhood friend knew the real cause… “it’s not your job to be the parent.

I carry a lot of responsibility for my sisters and by default, for my parents in a way. It’s really hard to explain but somehow I’m in this role of trying to protect my parents. I have been since they got divorced when I was about 11. I love my sisters and parents dearly, I really and truly do. But.

Last week – I sent my father and step-father their gifts that the Husband and I picked up during our honeymoon and a sweet card. I made sure it would arrive on the Friday before Father’s Day since my Dad and his Husband are always punctual about getting us our birthday or whatever celebration cards. On Friday night, my sisters ask, what did you send Dad from all of us for Father’s day? Every year, birthdays, Christmas, Father’s day, I do usually send something from the 3 of us – some years it’s just a gift card – and other years it has been hours of work on a photo calendar of sorts – I always plan it and have to pay for it – but sign it from all of us. This year, I didn’t. And somehow, it became my fault that I hadn’t sent something from them and that my Dad wouldn’t be getting anything from them (late, if at all) because of it.

Add in that my Mother was trying to get to my Grandfather’s, my older sister was avoiding riding in a car with her for other reasons which was upsetting her, my younger wasn’t happy that I couldn’t pick her up and instead I asked her to come to me (so the Husband could sleep since he had a night shift that night and the extra hour it would take to get her would be worthwhile for him to sleep) and then she started saying it was a burden for her to come to me and then just wouldn’t come (via text to my Mom, older sister and myself) and I lost it. There’s so many more details to this, but it would take weeks to write.

The worst part is that I do all of this – the planning, the gifts from all of us, the rides, biting my tongue about so, so, so many things to not cause any additional stress or chaos on my parents – because I don’t want them to be hurt. I don’t want the fact that my two sisters can’t get it together to send cards on their own to hurt my Dad’s feelings. I don’t want my Mom to be burdened with chauffeuring around my other sister when she has a million other things going on. From high-school on, because both of my sisters were so difficult (in different ways) I had to try to be perfect and fly under the radar – get perfect grades, have good friends, work practically a full-time job, don’t ask for rides, don’t ask for money and don’t cause more stress to anyone.

I stress so much about making sure my parents aren’t burdened, or their feelings aren’t hurt, or they aren’t stressed . And right now, we are all pretending and overlooking some pretty serious things– and I’m taking that stress, eating it, and letting it grow inside. For all of that to finally boil, alongside those other stressors, like a friend or two who honestly make me listen to hours upon hours of their life happenings without a single question about mine – and I’m tired.

I’m tired of playing therapist. I’m tired of playing peace maker. I’m tired of playing parent. I’m tired of always listening and helping. I’m tired of biting my tongue and not asking for what I want or need. I’m tired of trying to protect everyone’s feelings and happiness over my own.

Or maybe it’s more important to say… I’m tired of it being unfair. I’m tired of playing therapist to those people who don’t ask or care about my life. I’m tired of playing parent – because I’m not one. I’m tired of helping take away other’s stress and worries at the cost of my own happiness. I’m tired of always trying to be my best self – to those that give me their worst.

I’m surrounding by so many other good, positive, and giving people – and it’s not that everyone has to be positive all the time – more so – they don’t have to be energy drainers. Being around these good people – gives me energy. Gives me happiness. Pushes me in the best possible way. Doesn’t burden me in the slightest. It’s a 2-way relationship with them. And so for a while I’m going to try something.

I’m going to spend my time with those people. I’m going to speak up to the others, who maybe even without meaning to, or because I have enabled them, drain me. I’m going to try to be my 28-year-old self, finding my way into adulthood, focusing on my job, my husband, having some fun, saying no to things I don’t want to do, and finally, no longer being the parent of a 30 and 24-year-old.

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I knew this time would come. When the excitement of a new role would wear off, and the complete and utter discomfort would set in.

I lack all confidence stepping into a meeting. I feel like I’m failing at facilitating, motivating, and delegating to get things done to meet deadlines. I feel lost. My brain feels fuzzy like it’s not picking up on this logic – but instead keeps sticking with my old logic.

I know it will take time, experience, and some education. I know all I can do is work hard, ask for feedback and mentoring, and do my best. I know in time, I will feel confident again.

Last night I left work disheartened. I came home to the husband cooking salmon and asparagus, a completely cleaned out and stocked fridge, encouraging words, and a movie (of my choice) waiting to play.

We watched Parental Guidance, and as cheesy as parts may have been it was the perfect movie for last night.

Sure work is important, my career is important to me, but the silly little movie reminded me that there is so much more to life. There’s family – my husband, our families, our future kids, and our friends, who are just like family. Being surrounded and supported by all of them makes me realize that a bad day at work, isn’t so bad. It’s part of life, it’s part of growing, and it’s part of stepping outside of my comfort zone.

But I’m lucky, really lucky. Because after that discouraging day, or when I’m in such a low mood, I have the best support system there is.

So today I’m thankful, and I’m saying it.

I’m thankful for my husband, who cares so much about making sure I feel loved and happy.

I’m thankful for our families – our true blood-line families, and our friends who are just as close and considered family. They support us, they make us laugh, and they make life even more fun.

I’m thankful I get to focus on my fitness passion right now – to get healthier and consistently exercise. I am thankful I can see a personal trainer once a week, that I have a handful of gym classes I love, and that finally, I’m getting my run back. The kind of runs where I zone out, day-dream, and literally feel the stresses and ounces of fat melt away.

I’m thankful that I stepped outside my comfort zone at work. I know it’s bringing me down in some ways right now, but I also know I’d still feel stuck and unhappy in my old role. I’m just thankful this opportunity came up, and that I have something I am eagerly working towards.

And most of all, I’m thankful that Lent is over on Sunday and I can eat dessert after 47 days of absolutely no desserts. Kidding…sort of. 🙂



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When I first moved to Boston after college I craved chaos.

Basically, I wanted to continue with my college social life. I worked a job I hated from 9am to 7pm and then ordered takeout or went out to eat every night and frequented the bars as often as possible. I stayed over at friend’s places for an entire weekend – eating, drinking and socializing every free second of time. I did my laundry maybe once in the time of 3 months and cleaning absolutely never happened. And the gym? Not a chance.

That all toned down a bit when I got a different job and started getting my masters at night. However, it was still chaos, just controlled chaos. I’d go to work from 9am-5:30pm, run to class from 6pm-9pm, then see my boyfriend, friends or run after. Most mornings I found myself getting up hours early to attempt to write a paper or read assigned texts for a class that night. Weekends were packed with friends or travel.

And this summer has really topped the chaos meter. Don’t get me wrong, this summer has been fantastic:

  • 2 Cape Cod trips with the Townie (one with his friends)
  • 1 trip to Florida with family
  • 1 trip to NY for my sister’s graduation from college
  • Warrior Dashing through mud (resulting in poison ivy) and gallivanting around phantom gourmet’s bbq beach party
  • A night in Rhode Island for dinner with family & the Townie
  • A moving away party for a friend
  • A weekend visit from 3 NY besties packed with a duck tour and red sox game
  • A week-long training at work
  • A week-long beach vacation with a few of the girls
  • A Portsmouth weekend trip with the Townie
  • A going away party for another friend
  • A birthday bbq in the suburbs

And that’s not including tri training, dinners after work with friends, or the upcoming weeks with 2 weddings, 2 tris, a 10k, a Patriots game, 2 kayaking trips, 2 fantasy football leagues & drafts, and a weekend in Stowe, Vermont with zip lining. That’s just the end of August through September.


As the summer is coming to an end and my crazy Fall is starting I am realizing all I want these days is some simplicity and routine.

I’m craving getting up in the morning and going to a spin class, going to work, coming home to a clean apartment, cooking a fabulous home cooked dinner and sitting down with the Townie to enjoy it.

I’m craving a weekend morning where I can wake up and not have a packed schedule for the day. Instead just decide what I want to do that day.

I’m craving living off of one cup of coffee on most days and not 4 in order to keep my eyes open.

I’m craving exercise for fun, and not for tri or road race training.

I’m craving quality time with my friends, but not having to make plans multiple nights per week, squeezing it all in.

I feel like I’m ready to leave behind the chaos and even some of the controlled chaos for a while.

I’m ready to build a life with the Townie, which means fantasizing about moving in together when my lease runs up next Spring. And yes that fantasy includes a pave setting princess cut diamond ring hanging out on my finger. 🙂

I feel like I’m ready to have more space than my studio apt (umm, like a bedroom!) but also so I can cook dinners and invite people over and skip the crowded bars where I have to scream at my friend to find out how her new job is going only to ask “what” 4 times before hearing her answer.

Maybe that makes me old, or boring, or anti-social, but it’s a change I’m going with. This fall and winter I’m toning it all down. Maybe simplicity isn’t such a bad thing. 🙂


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I know everyone has heard the saying, “it’s the thought that counts”.

When someone attempts to make a fantastic birthday cake but forgets key ingredients, it’s the thought that counts.

When someone attempts to make you a creative little art project and (it’s truthfully pretty hideous) it’s totally the thought that counts.

When someone tries their hardest to spend time with you but then gets into a car accident,  has to deal with 4 hours of police nonsense – well then it’s the thought AND the effort that count!

However, when people have the best intentions, and are thinking about you, or doing something they know might make your day but don’t — guess what? The thought means crap.

I have a habit of doing that.

The other night I was thinking about my childhood nanny and how much I used to love her. I actually went to the school nurse in second grade with a hangnail and asked to be sent home (just so I could spend the day with her). Apparently, I was ridiculously convincing because they did send me home. And yes I enjoyed every minute of the afternoon watching Days of Our Lives and eating grilled cheese.

Anyway, I thought about how I haven’t talked to her in years. I think about her all the time because she had such a large part in shaping my childhood. Why don’t I ever just reach out and send a card or give her a call?

Then there’s my Dad. I know he’s ridiculously sensitive and every year I come up with these fabulous birthday ideas for him and yet somehow I find myself two days before scrambling for a card and a gift card that will inevitably get there 1 day after his birthday.

He means the world to me. I know he takes his birthday (and communication from his daughters) to the heart. In my head it’s clear how much I care about him and yet my actions aren’t showing it. He deserves to be shown it.

I may have really great thoughts and feelings about people. I may even have the best intentions. But when they can’t see or know any of that, well then it’s no longer just the thought that counts. It’s the action. The visible effort.

I’m trying really hard to change my thoughts and intentions into action.

So I’m telling myself, as Nike says, JUST DO IT.


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I miss the blogging world…a lot.

I never thought life would get crazy enough where I couldn’t find the time to post. But somehow it has. Yet this place is my outlet – a release from all of that. So I’m coming back. And I’ll catch up on the 500+ items in my reader – because your posts make me laugh, and smile, and most of all motivate me.

I’m transitioning to a management position at work. It’s exciting, but there’s just so much to do and prepare for. I’ve been clenching my jaw all day and dreaming about work at night.

I spent some time in Florida with my wonderful family. I spent the Fourth of July weekend down in the Cape with the Townie and 7 of his friends. I’ve driven to Rhode Island to have family dinners, even though it’s a 45minute drive each way on a work night, it’s worth it.

I’m cramming in nights to catch up with friends who have moved to new places, and weekends with family and New York friends visiting, and a 5k race this Sunday with the Townie yet I can’t remember the last time I ran.

Oh yea, I ran the Warrior Dash with 3 girlfriends. It was hilarious and fun. We all ended up with horrific poison ivy for days afterwards.

I’m not working out enough and I’m eating and drinking too much.

But life is falling into place. The Townie whispered he loved me this past weekend.  I whispered it back without hesitation.

I laughed so hard at dinner with my family last night that tears ran down my face and my stomach hurt.

While work isn’t always where I want to be, I’m finding happiness in being busy and challenged.

My energy has been directed towards deepening relationships with friends, family and even new acquaintances who make the effort right back. I’m slowly letting go of those who don’t.

6 months into 2011 I’ve realized the real secret to happiness. Let go of all the shit. Put 100% into people you love and what you want out of life.

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