I was reading something the other day and the article ended with this question…

Are you living or simply existing?

Of course I’m living I thought.   To not be living would mean I don’t love my life and of course I love my life.  End of story.  But, as many things do, it left me thinking.  How do we know if we are merely existing?

Dr. Phil says existing is instinctual; it is involuntary, reactive self-preservation, with the primary goal of just getting from one day to the next without regard to quality. Living, on the other hand, is the exercise of certain learned skills, attitudes, and abilities that you have acquired and honed to a sharp and focused edge.  Living is waking up excited each day and looking forward to the known and unknown the day may bring.

A large component of simply existing is fear.  Fear of making a change, fear of the unknown, fear the grass is not greener.  Because of this fear, we do the same boring routine every day, we stay in dead-end jobs we don’t enjoy, we stay in toxic relationships that are no good for us, and we put off our dreams.  To change feels too hard and too scary.  We settle and make excuses to not live the life we truly want to lead.

Kimanzi Constable published a book called Are You Living or Existing? 9 Steps to Change Your Life.  He explains the difference between living and existing this way…

“The difference is realization, attitude and action. You start by realizing that time is one resource we’ll never get back, so we can’t afford to waste it doing things that won’t better our life. Then have the right attitude towards everything you do, viewing opportunities as a blessing and not another task on your to do list. Action means not wasting your life away watching the latest prime time shows. It means getting out and creating amazing experiences. At the end of your life you won’t remember all of the stuff you got or shows you watched. You’ll remember incredible experiences and times you impacted the lives of others.”

So how would you even know if you’re someone who exists or lives? Steve Jobs did something that could provide some guidance. Apparently he used to wake up each morning, look at himself in the mirror and ask himself the same question, “If I was to die today, would I do what I am about to do?” If his answer was no too many days in a row, he would make a change.  I think this is a good starting point for figuring out if you’re just settling for mediocrity. If you’re not getting excited or happy most days with what you’re going to do, you may need to take action and change something. This goes for every area of your life.

After being brutally honest with myself, I had to admit, although I’ve done my share of living, I’ve also done my share of existing.  I decided that needed to change.  But where to start?  It felt right to start from Constable’s explanation of living…realization, attitude, and action.

I decided the first step was to take control of my life…to be fully responsible and accountable for my own happiness.  It is not the job of my co-workers, husband, children or friends to make my life meaningful, it is mine.  I decided to stop being a spectator to my life and instead, fully participate in each day.  At 45 my life is probably more than half way over and any time spent existing is just not acceptable anymore.  Time is precious and I don’t want to waste another minute.

Secondly, my attitude has to change.  I must begin to count my blessings and not my problems.  I must begin to see obstacles as opportunities.  Most importantly for me, I must stop my perfectionist ways.  I have to learn to be ok with failure and not be afraid to try new things.  I also have to accept the fact that living life to its fullest is not a destination, it’s a journey.  A journey I will be on for the rest of my life.  This step will be a work in progress for me and probably the hardest step of all.  The idea of change brings me much anxiety!

Finally, I must act.  I’m a great planner and a not-so-good follow througher.  I decided to really think about what I feel passionate about in life, what I enjoy doing, and what makes me feel good about myself?  I’m embarrassed to admit how difficult it was to identify things I feel passionate about or enjoy doing.  I’ve never been a big “hobby” person and my life has revolved so much around my kids the past 17 years, I realize I’ve sort of  lost myself along the way.  I am realistic enough to know I’m not ready for huge changes immediately so I’ve outlined some baby steps for myself in all areas of my life to push myself in the right direction. I had to take a deep breath and dig deep, but I’m excited about some of the possibilities I’m investigating.  Remember, even small steps can lead to big possibilities!

How about you?  Do you need to take this journey with me?  Do you find yourself simply existing more days than you are really living?  Or are you someone who lives life to the fullest and wakes up excited for what each day holds?  Either way, I’d love to hear your story!

I always think THIS is the year.

The year I get all my Christmas shopping done by December 1.

The year I can then spend my December wrapping gifts that are Pinterest worthy.

The year I spend time in the kitchen baking wonderful treats with my daughter with my apron on and Christmas music playing in the background.

The year my Christmas cards are ordered in plenty of time for me to sit at my CLEAN dining room table, sipping on hot chocolate while watching the snow fall with my excel spreadsheet of addresses.

The year the whole family can’t wait to help with the decorating.

The year I’m able to resist all the wonderful food brought to work.

The year my house stays clean the whole month of December and friends come in and out, drinking wine and eating the appetizers that are always out welcoming my
visitors.

The year my husband puts up the outside lights in a timely manner while he sips on a bourbon, enjoying the fact that he can participate in this wonderful holiday and when he is done, all the lights work.

The year I finally listen to my kids and I don’t worry if each kid gets the same number of gifts and if I’ve spent the same amount on each because I don’t want anyone to think I have a “favorite”.

The year the whole family watches all the holiday classics with me.

Ok, ok…I know.  I’m living in a fantasy world.  Do you want to hear my reality?

I will still be shopping December 24 although I will swear I have everything I need way before that.

I will begin with creative wrapping and beautiful bows and get tremendously sick of wrapping and the majority of my gifts will look like my dog got a hold of them.

I won’t even walk in the kitchen except to grab some oreos from the cabinet.

I might take a Christmas card picture but no one will be able to agree on a picture and so I will just forget the whole thing.  If I do happen to get a Christmas card together, it will be so late I will be frantically tearing off return labels of Christmas cards I receive and sending them only to them because I don’t have time to look up anyone’s address. 
(And my dining room table is NEVER clean!)

No one wants to help with the decorating, including me sometimes.

I will not resist any of the yummy food brought to work.  In fact I will hide some of it to eat later.

My house will only be clean on the day the cleaners come and if anyone shows up at my door I will probably hide because I haven’t had a shower or my house is too much of a mess.

It will take my husband DAYS to put up the lights with at least 5 trips to Lowes for lights that work and then we will forget to turn them on for the entire month of
December.

I will meticulously count gifts to make sure everything is even, even if it means going out and buying something I know they don’t want just to have something wrapped.

If I turn on Frosty, everyone will leave the room and go watch TV in their bedrooms.

But this is THE year for something.  It’s the year I give up unrealistic expectations, embrace my imperfections, and plan to enjoy the good, bad, and ugly of the holiday season, because that’s what makes it memorable.  The traditions we’ve created as a family are priceless.  My kids will reluctantly help decorate but I know deep inside they kind of enjoy it.  My husband will cuss his way through the lights but will be kind of proud when we all stand outside and ooh and ahh over how pretty they look.  I will act all grumpy over having to fight the crowds for the last minute gifts but will be thrilled when I find “the perfect” gift for someone.  We all will be excited when my Bella-wrapped gifts go under the tree.  We will entertain a lot and it will be exhausting, but a happy kind of exhausting.  And if I pout enough, the family will watch “It’s A Wonderful Life” with me on Christmas Eve and maybe even be kind of glad they did.  Whether some of my holiday fantasies come true or if I just live out my reality for another year, it doesn’t matter.  All that matters is I’m surrounded by people I love and people who love me.  THAT’S the magic of Christmas.  

What makes your holidays magical?

Last night I was watching the CBS evening news and they did a segment called Six Word War.  First, let me tell you a bit about this memoir from their website www.sixwordwar.com. 

“Welcome to Six Word War. Instead of a book about Iraq or Afghanistan that tells one soldier’s perspective, Six Word War is the first ‘crowdsourced’ war memoir that will tell a story different than any other ever told about war. For the first time in history, one book will contain the collective experience of our military at war in their own words.

Sometimes veterans have funny stories to tell and sometimes they’re tragic. Not every story on its own could justify an entire book, but that’s what we think is incredible about this project. The thousands of stories that we’re gathering tell the real story of Iraq and Afghanistan - a story that couldn’t possibly be told by one person.

This project is being run by Shaun Wheelwright and Mike Nemeth, both US Army veterans. Mike and Shaun met as West Point classmates at the United States Military Academy. Shaun went on to deploy to Iraq from 2007-2009 with the 1-27 Infantry, 25th ID. Mike was injured prior to a deployment and left the Army as a 2nd Lieutenant. “

I was so deeply moved by this segment that I immediately went to their website. I was astonished at how much emotion, insight, loss, and even humor could be described in six short words.  Here are a few of my favorites…

Family Sacrifice Personal Sacrifice Rinse Repeat

I came home, but never left.

Divorce, despair, only God could repair.

Hearts and minds, I lost both.

It’s okay to not be okay

Responsibilities causing maturing beyond my years

Taliban Bullet, Army Hospital, Found Love

Nicotine. Caffeine. Dead friends. No sleep.

I am tired of the goodbyes.

Baby coming. Please come home alive!

The other battle starts at home.

Powerful stuff, huh.  They were inspired by a website called http://sixwordmemoirs.com.  A Six-Word Memoir® is the story of your life—some part of it or all of it—told in exactly six words.

This inspired me to think about how I would sum up my own life in six words.  It was a struggle, but today this is the six words that would represent me.

Flawed and fearful.  Blessed beyond belief.

I have so many flaws.  What’s even worse is I actually know how flawed I really am.  But holding hands with all my flaws is good intention and lessons learned.  Each day I try to do better.  Each day I try to take a baby step to a better me.  I don’t always succeed, but I can never be accused of not trying.

I am not a risk taker…never have been.  I used to feel bad about it but I’ve come to accept that is just part of who I am and there is nothing wrong with that.  When it becomes an issue though, is when fears stops me from stepping outside my comfort zone and reaching my goals.  Fear of failure, fear of change, fear of someone being mad at me, fear of losing someone, fear of being hurt.  Although I have no regrets in my life, I am ashamed of the missed opportunities and experiences never lived because fear has gotten in my way.

I really am blessed.  I am blessed beyond belief.  I am blessed with my health and the health of all my loved ones.  I am blessed with a job that reconfirms how blessed I am on a daily basis.  I’m blessed with the ability to love and to be loved.  I’m blessed with two children who are perfect for me, who I stare at constantly because I can’t believe they are really mine.  I am blessed with a diverse array of friends from all chapters of my life who have guided me, supported me, and loved me, even at my worst.

So, go check out the sixwordwar website.  Or check out the segment from CBS Evening News I’ve linked on my page.  Or even better yet, go buy the book.  My six words might change next week or next year.  They would have looked very different five years ago and even more different ten years ago.  But for today, this is my six word life. 

What’s yours?  How would you describe your life in six words?

My husband and I were recently on a trip.  We were on our flight home and as they came by with food and drinks, I ordered a fruit and cheese tray and my husband ordered chex mix.  As I ate, I watched him eat the chex mix but meticulously take out every pretzel.  I found this strange since he really likes pretzels but refrained from saying anything.  I decided maybe he was bored or there was something wrong with them.  Finally when I couldn’t stand it any longer I asked him why he was not eating the pretzels.  He replied, “Because I’m saving them for you.  You love pretzels.”  Seriously?!  I studied his face to see if there was a punch line or if he was being sarcastic but he obviously wasn’t.  He just sincerely thought I would like the pretzels.  That small, but sweet, gesture showed me he cared about me more than any expensive gift or elaborate trip.  It got me thinking about the impact small gestures like these have on our life.

It would take some effort and thought to remember all the gifts I have received over the years, but I had no problem recalling other small, caring gestures that have stayed with me and I was readily able to pull them from memory.

In middle school, there was a big “party” where all the boys and girls I was friends with were invited…everyone but me that is.  I was devastated.  My best friend decided not to go to the party and her mom took us to dinner and a movie instead.  I can vividly remember a picture her mom took of us sitting on a piano bench before we went out.  I even remember what I was wearing.  But more importantly, I remember how amazed I was that she would do that for me.  This was THE party and she was choosing not to go because she knew my feelings were hurt and she didn’t want me to feel left out.  I’m not sure I ever thanked her appropriately for that profound moment in my life, so thank you Pam!

And there are others.  A sweet note from my sister after I had lost a bunch of weight telling me how proud she was of me.  I still have that note because it was unusual for her to share her thoughts and feelings with me like that.  The flowers I received from my other sister on my first day of school one year just saying good luck.  My good friend who brought me a warm, fresh baked cookie by my office for no other reason but she thought I’d enjoy it.  The co-worker who remembered me mentioning my favorite holiday cookie and when she made a batch, she made a few extra for me.  A lengthy handwritten note from another friend thanking me for my support during a difficult time in her life.  My college friends all making the trip for my dad’s funeral and my best friend who was with me every step of the way during that horrible time.  The pimento cheese my husband once spent 20 minutes looking for in the grocery store because he remembered me saying how much I loved it.  Coming home to a clean kitchen because my kids knew I had a stressful day.  The list could go on and on. 

As we step into November, the month where we count our blessings and speak of our gratitude, I am going to focus on these small gestures.  I am going to be more intentional in my thoughtfulness towards others as well as more intentional in the acknowledgment of the thoughtfulness of others.    Is there a small gesture you received from someone that meant more to you than you ever expressed?  If so, I’d love to hear about it!  If you don’t want to share it here, it’s never too late to say thank you to that person!  And let’s never lose sight of the impact the small acts of kindness mean to those on the receiving end…it can be life-changing.

I remember bits and pieces of my elementary school days…I remember most of my teachers’ names, of course my friends from that time, and an occasional memory here and there.  However, 1978-79 stands out pretty clearly for me.  That was the year I was in fourth grade and I LOVED fourth grade.

We studied dinosaurs, we studied the Civil War and I even remember the project I did with my friend Andrea where we wrote letters from the front line of the battle back home to our pretend families.  I recall burning the edges of the paper so the letters would look old and worn.  I have committed to memory a heated game of kickball where I was standing on the foul line and Chuck (the best kicker in the class) kicked one right down the foul line and before I could even move, my face stopped the ball and was a red, swollen mess for the rest of the day!  It was also the year boys began to enter my life (although I was not ready for them!)  Someone in our class had a “kissing game”.  The game was just a girl and a boy and when you pushed the button, the heads spun and landed on the girl kissing the boy, the boy kissing the girl, both heads turned away or the boy and girl kissing each other.  It landed on the boy and girl kissing each other and some boys in the class teased that since a boy named Kurt liked me, it was he and I kissing each other.  I spent the rest of the day crying because I was so embarrassed.  It was also the year Pat, a boy from my class that lived in my neighborhood, came to my front door and brought me a rose.  My mother called me upstairs to accept it and made me say thank you and then I immediately retreated to my room, refusing to come out because I thought it meant I had to be his girlfriend and I didn’t want to be his girlfriend.  Although my mom explained to me I didn’t need to be anyone’s girlfriend, I was so traumatized I refused to go to school the next day, thereby crushing my dream of the perfect attendance award I had been working so hard towards.  Why in the world do I remember all of these things so distinctly?  Because of Mrs. Long…my fourth grade teacher.

I loved Mrs. Long and she loved me.  How did I know she loved me?  I just knew.  I knew by the way she never lost patience with me.  I knew by the way she spent time with me outside of school and the letters she sent home to my parents.  I knew by the way she gave me the important job of filling out her grade book because I had such good handwriting (probably illegal now!).  I knew by the way she listened to me and never made my problems seem silly or inconsequential.  I knew because she made me feel special.  And although she never said it, I just knew deep down inside I was her favorite.

I may not have been the typical kid that often writes about the difference a teacher made in their life.  I didn’t come from a low-income family or a broken home.  I wasn’t suffering with a family secret, bullied, or having trouble making friends.  I wasn’t struggling with my grades or a behavior problem.  In fact, I was the complete opposite.  I was a straight A student from a middle class, loving family with lots of friends.  But I was a kid, like every other kid.  Our differences didn’t matter; we all wanted the same thing.   We craved adult attention.  We longed to feel special.  We wanted someone to really like us, not pretend to like us or like us because they had to, but really like us.  We yearned for someone to truly care about all the things important to a ten year-old and Mrs. Long did all these things.   I would venture to guess that every single student in her class that year felt like her favorite.  That’s just the kind of teacher she was.

Wouldn’t it be huge if every child had a Mrs. Long in their life?  Wouldn’t it be even more amazing if YOU were the Mrs. Long in a young person’s life?  You don’t have to be a teacher to be a Mrs. Long, there are many other opportunities.  Maybe it’s a child in your neighborhood or a friend of your own child.  Maybe it’s the teenager in your Sunday school group or the young man you coach.  Maybe it’s the pre-teen in your Girl Scout troop or the child who stops in your store often.  Maybe it’s your niece or your grandson.  Or maybe you are a teacher and to you I say THANK YOU.  I see you emulating Mrs. Long every single day with many different students, each with a myriad of needs.  And you do this year after year.

I never got a chance to tell Mrs. Long what an impact she made on my life.  I don’t know where she is or where life has taken her in all these years.  Maybe someone reading this does and I would love to hear from you!  But in case I never get a chance to tell her, my humble way to honor her is to strive every day to walk in her footsteps and pass forward the most valuable gifts she gave me…her time, her attention, and her love.  I fall short on a daily basis, especially with my own kids, but if each of us was intentional in our commitment to be a “Mrs. Long”, what a wonderful, loving world it would be!

Who was your “Mrs. Long”?  How was your life impacted by the attention of a loving adult?  I’d love to hear your story!

I’m sitting here thinking about what’s expected of me in my job.  My most important (and most difficult) responsibility is the expectation to teach my students about character.  Very simply, this is what is expected of me…

I’m expected to teach them about respect.  To explain they don’t have to be everyone’s friend, but they must be respectful and kind and treat others the way they want to be treated.  Bullying others is not ok and they must stand up for each other and what they believe in. 

I’m expected to teach them about responsibility.  To help them see they must sometimes do the hard stuff before they can do the fun stuff and that people count on them to do their jobs. 

I’m expected to teach them to be thankful.  To be thankful for this country, for our school, for the people who give them the privilege to lead the life they lead.  And to do more than feel thankful…to speak of and show their gratitude.

I’m expected to teach them to be caring.  To think of others before they think of themselves sometimes and that relationships are as important as being “right”.  Giving is more rewarding than receiving and doing things for others is the cornerstone of a kind world and kind heart.

I’m expected to teach them to persevere.  To work hard and never give up.  If you try hard enough, you will be able to accomplish anything.  To take small steps towards a larger purpose and to keep moving forward.

I’m expected to teach them to be trustworthy.  To understand the importance of keeping their promises and sticking to their word.  They must not lie, cheat, or steal.  Trust is something very sacred and once it is lost, it’s almost impossible to get back. 

I’m expected to teach them to be a good citizen.  To honor our country, to take care of our earth, to follow rules, and to take care of each other.  To be a good sport and to not kick someone when they are down, but hold out your hand to help them up.  To be humble and to be proud.

I’m expected to teach them self-discipline.  To help them see they are responsible for their own choices and they must pay consequences for those choices sometimes.  To show them they have full control over their actions and behaviors and they cannot blame others for their shortcomings.

I’m expected to teach them to cooperate.  To model that compromise is a crucial and essential skill.  That you must really listen to others and try to see others’ points of view in order to accomplish anything.  That everyone’s role is important and necessary within a group and people count on you to do your part.

Then I turn on the news.  And I wonder if I should be teaching my elementary school character lessons to our politicians instead.  To them I say…you expect me to do these things to keep my job?  Well, I expect you to do them as well.  It’s time to grow up.

When I was a kid, we kept ourselves busy by playing outside. There was a street light near my house that bats were drawn to.  They would fly around the light at night.  The neighborhood kids would throw rocks up in the air and watch the bats swoop down, I guess assuming the rocks were food. I was a little weary of the bats. I worried they would swoop down and land on my head so I typically just sat and watched.  One night I got brave and decided to participate.  I threw my rock high up in the air!  I watched the rock go up…and I watched the rock come back down and hit me on the side of the head!  After some blood and tears, I decided I was done with the “bat game”.

I still have a dent on the right side of my temple from that rock.  It’s probably something only I can notice, but it occasionally leads me back to my 8 or 9 year-old self
to wonder why I didn’t get out of the way.  My husband would tell you it’s because
I was gifted with plenty of smarts but not a lick of sense.  He’s probably right, I am lacking in the common sense department at times, but I also think it might have been an indicator of things to come.

You see, just like that child stood and watched the rock hit her smack on the side of the head, this adult sometimes stands and allows hurtful people and situations to plow me over, with never even an attempt to get out of the way.  And just like I was the person who threw the rock that hit me, I think most of my painful situations have been self-inflicted as well.  
 
So how DO we “get out of the way”?  Here are some of the things I'm working on...

Stop surrounding yourself with people who bring you down.  Stay away from friends who judge you and make you feel bad about yourself and relationships that leave you feeling sad, rejected, and lonely.   Surround yourself with people who bring out the best in you.  Friends who support you and make you smile.  People you can be your authentic self with, not a mask of who you think they want you to be.  When I started doing this, my circle of friends dwindled, but I became a much happier person in the process.

Stop putting yourself in situations you know will lead to unhappiness.  Do things that make you happy… even if those things aren’t popular with your friends.  Doing things you truly enjoy will connect you with people with similar interests and you will be surprised how many people out there may have a hidden passion for the same things you do.  Writing a blog such as this is not something I have in common with many
people.  I knew I might not get a lot of support for it, but it has connected me with some of the most amazing people who write me privately about their struggles.  My writing is not for everyone, but for those who “get me” I cannot say thank you enough for your camaraderie.

Be you own best friend. Get to know yourself.  Learn to be comfortable spending time alone.  I spent more time by myself this summer than I ever have.  It was a blessing.  There was a time I would have not been comfortable doing that.  I always felt like I had to “fill” my time and try to keep up with the fun I thought everyone else was having.  For the first time in a long time, I’m comfortable in my own skin and I like being with me.

Let go of what you can’t control.  Just let it go.  It’s heavy and it’s weighing you down.  Hand it over to a higher power or decide you will revisit it some other time, but for now, set it down and continue the journey without it.  This is probably the hardest for me, but I’m making baby steps and so can you.

Stay positive and count your blessings.  There is always something to be thankful for, even if it’s just growing old…many don’t have that privilege.   Don’t take life so seriously.  That’s my goal this year…to put more fun in my life, especially at work.  Keep the focus on what’s good in your life and that will help you stay on the path of positivity.

What do you do to “get out of the way”?  Are some of the painful situations in your life “self-inflicted”?  I would love to hear your story!

If you've been following my blog from the beginning, you know that part of my inspiration for this journey came from a stray cat that showed up at our house last summer.  Here is that post.  I wouldn't go as far as to say Sadie became part of our family, but more like she became part of me.  Unfortunately, as unexpectedly as she came, she's gone.  I have not seen her for two weeks.  That's not a good sign.  She has waited at the back door every morning for a year for her breakfast and every evening for her dinner.  She would be sunning on the porch every afternoon when I got home from work and asleep in the garage or on the porch every night before I went to bed.  She has stayed away for a day sometimes, but I don't believe she would purposely stay away this long.  This is the first time I've really talked about it, because I felt like if I said it out loud or wrote it down that it would make it real and I wasn't ready for that until now.  Sadie deserves a good-bye.

When I think about what that sweet cat taught me, three lessons come immediately to mind.

Be open to new things...I hated cats.  Period.  I have never owned a cat, paid no mind to any cats that might be pets of my friends, and did my best to avoid cats at all costs.  I have no idea why.  I just thought I didn't like them.  "I'm a dog person" I would say to everyone.  I'm not really sure why I felt you either needed to be a "dog person" or a "cat person" and you couldn't be both, but that's beside the point.  She taught me to be open to new ideas and even old ideas that may not be true to who I am anymore.  By loving her, I realize I never hated cats, I just never gave them a chance.  I was never open to the idea and had a pre-conceived notion about something I knew nothing about it.  I think about how many other things in my life I haven't given a chance because I have already made a judgment based on a past experience or memory or even because I'm afraid.  (And yes, I will be trying yogurt today.  I have in my head I hate yogurt so I have refused to try it my entire adult life.  I have a yucky look on my face right now even thinking about it, but considering I don't actually have a memory of ever eating it and not liking it, I think I've created the whole thing in my head!  I'll keep you posted!)

A simple life is a happy life...As with most animals, she didn't need much to be happy.  She just wanted to be fed, a safe place to sleep, and a little attention here and there.  That's it.  I tried to buy her some fancy cat toys one time but she looked at me like "Girl...really?" and never touched them.  She was happy with the sun on her face and the peace that came with knowing she was safe...that she didn't need to look over her shoulder all the time.  I do believe she was genuinely happy this past year and that definitely brings me some comfort.  And I agree with her, a simple life is a happy life.  The more "stuff" I accumulate in my house and even in my mind, only makes my life feel cluttered.  I don't need it.  She has inspired me to simplify.

We all want to belong, to feel connected...As independent as Sadie was, she still wanted to belong to something...to our family.  She wanted to feel loved and she wanted to feel connected to something bigger than herself.  One day when I wasn't feeling well and I was in bed all day, Todd brought her into the house and put her in the bed with me.  She never left my side.  She wanted to be touching me the whole time.  We all need that human touch.  We all need to feel loved.  We all want to belong.  There's not a person out there, no matter how independent and strong, that doesn't have these basic needs.  We should always remember that.

If Sadie is still alive, I hope she's found a loving home and I will always be looking for to show up again.  If she's not, I just hope there was no suffering and she is looking down on me from a very happy place.  We had a very special connection.  I always felt like she was watching me...looking after me.  And there were times this year, I needed to feel like someone was watching out for me.  She brought me comfort, she showed me love, and she gave me inspiration.  I will be forever grateful.  Dr. Seuss says "Don't cry because it's over.  Smile because it happened."  I'm smiling Sadie, I'm smiling.

I am so thrilled to be spending this week at the beach with two of my best friends from college.  It has been much too long.  I have seen them each individually over the years but the last time we were all three together was 10 years ago at my dad’s funeral.  The last time we did a girls’ only trip was probably for one of our bachelorette parties 20 years ago.  Like I said, it’s been much too long.  Someone asked me if I was nervous about the trip since it has been many years since we have all been together.  I was a little surprised because it never even occurred to me to be nervous.  I’ve been way too busy being ridiculously excited! 

I met Mary Beth and Kari in college.  We were all pledging Kappa Delta sorority and became fast and forever friends.  (Picture is from a sorority formal!)  They were bridesmaids in my wedding, and I in theirs.  Much has happened in each of our lives since those days and I’m not sure if any of us would have predicted where we would be in life some 20 years later…many blessings and much happiness, but also plenty of disappointments and buckets of tears.  As many friends do, we have gone through periods of losing touch, sometimes even for years.  But as all true friends do, once we get back in touch, we pick up right where we left off. The friendship is familiar, supportive, comfortable, and easy.

When I think about my friends, I think about the saying…Make new friends but keep the old, for one is silver and the other is gold.  All of my friends are priceless to me and they each hold a special place in my heart. They each fulfill a unique need in my life as well.  Some I call when I need a good listener.  Some I call when I need a good laugh.  Some share a love of movies with me, while others share my love of books.  Some I call when I want to be philosophical and deep, while other times I want a different friend because I know it will never get philosophical and deep!  Some know the ins and outs of my day and love my kids as their own, while others do not really know my kids
at all, but know me in a way my current friends do not, because they grew up with me.  Some I talk work with, while others may not even know what I do for a living, because our common ground is something much different.  Some know me from the inside out, while others just know what they see. I need them all though.  They each serve a purpose.

While I could not survive without my current friends, I feel a connection to my
childhood/college friends that can never be replaced.  They know ME. Many don’t
know me as a wife or as a mother, they knew me at a time when my only identity
was just Paige.  I miss that sometimes.  Research shows that remembering happy times from your past is a great way to boost your happiness in the present.  Maintaining friendships from all stages of your life can have a real effect on your current happiness.  But let’s get real, it’s hard to do.  I’ve done a terrible job.  I can barely carve out time for a lunch date with my mom who lives in the same town! 
This is why this trip is so important to me.  It’s non-negotiable.  No matter what came up last minute with my family, this trip was non-negotiable and they respected that.  I need to do this more often.  My high school friends and I are in the preliminary talks of trying to find a weekend to get together.  We have not all been together for 20 years either.  My wedding was the last time I saw some of them.  I’ve already decided, that trip will be non-negotiable also.  If it’s  planned, I will be there.

So five days at the beach with two of my best friends!  How lucky am I?  And I’m
packing light…I’ve got a beach chair, a bathing suit, bottles of wine and portable wine glasses for the beach…what more do old friends need?!

Throughout all the highs and lows of my marriage, one thing about my husband has stayed steadfast and true. He is a good father.  No, a great father.  The kind of father I only dreamed of my kids having one day.  And it’s been that way from the very beginning.

When I was pregnant with Brandon, I had a really awful delivery.  Some minor complications after the delivery left me in and out of consciousness for a bit.  Every time I would come to, I would panic…THE BABY!  And every time I opened my eyes, there was Todd rocking him, soothing him, feeding him, and loving him.  As we were getting ready to leave the hospital, I remember being in the shower worried about how in the world I was going to dress this tiny little thing without hurting him and prepare him for our trip home.  I came out of the bathroom and there was Brandon, all dressed and ready to go, lying on Todd’s chest.  From that moment on, I knew my kids would always be in the best of hands.

Todd took to parenting in a way I never did.  It was so natural to him.  You can’t teach that, it just is.  When I worried, he wondered.  When I stressed, he smiled.  What I saw as a huge responsibility, he saw as a huge adventure.  It’s still that way.  He always saw parenting, not as an equal obligation so much, but as an equal journey he was so blessed to be part of.  When Brandon was just a couple weeks old, I left him with Todd while I went out to run some errands.  I remember seeing a friend who stopped me and asked where the baby was.  I replied that he was home with Todd.  She looked genuinely shocked.  Her exact words were, “I can’t believe you’re letting Todd babysit him this soon.”  I was speechless. “He’s his dad, not his babysitter” I countered,” and he is more than capable.”  And he was. I was unable to breastfeed Brandon so Todd became an efficient bottle maker, making them in big batches so I didn’t have to do it.  Even though he was working, we had a system at night.  Anything the baby needed before 2:00 a.m. was my responsibility, anything after 2:00 a.m. was his. (We came up with this because I was a night person and he was a morning person!). While pregnant
with Catie, I was put on bed rest for 6 months.  Todd worked, cooked, kept the house as best he could, took care of two-year old Brandon, and took care of me every day
for those 6 months.  Once Catie came along, he never even flinched.  He was as comfortable with two as he was with one. He has a remarkable gift.

Todd is devoted to Brandon and Catie in a way that’s truly humbling.  He’s involved, but knows how to give them space.  He’s fun, but knows when to lay down the law.  He’s proud, but keeps things in perspective.  He’s their friend, but also their parent.  He cooks for them, he attends everything they participate in, he plays with them, and most importantly, he loves them unconditionally.  He’s patient, kind, loyal and generous. 
If they don’t now, my kids will soon realize what a special dad they have.

So thank you Todd.  Thank you for being more than I could ever ask for in a father to my children. Thank you for being all the things I’m not.  Thank you for allowing the kids to see the world from your perspective.  Thank you for always being ready for an adventure with them and helping them experience the fun side of life.  Thank you for providing for them and working so incredibly hard to give them the life I know you believe they deserve.  Thank you for always being so involved in their lives and making them feel like the most important thing in the world...because they are. But most of all, thank you for the peace of mind in knowing that should anything ever happen to me, they have and always will be in the best of hands. 

Happy Father's Day!  We love you!