Changes.

So many things are happening in my life right now. 

Quickly, as 2025 wrapped up, I found myself in the perfect mindset - and at the perfect (for me and my kiddo!) house. 

And so, I made an offer. 

And on New Year's Eve, I got the word that the offer was accepted, after a little back and forth, and I was going to be buying a new house in the new year. 

We would be moving. And semi-soon. 

A few weeks earlier, I said goodbye to my childhood home for the first time. 

Honestly? That deserves a post of its own. 

I'll come back to it. Someday. When I'm really ready. 

But the new house? The contract? 

It took about 30 days into the new year, and I closed. I was a homeowner. 

We did it!!! 

We bought a new house. 

I did it!!!

Completely on my own.

And a week later? 

I was laid off.

Well, in actuality, I learned I was going to be laid off at the end of the month. 

February felt dreadful. 

I simply didn't wanna. 

The process of finding a new job was so damned overwhelming. 

I just couldn't. 

I had to pack. 

I had to move. 

But wait, I still had to 'work'. Sort of. 

End of February was my final day of work. 

Though I hadn't seen clients in some time. 

And now - ? 

I am reminding myself that I am still a therapist. 

I can still support people. 

I know what I am doing. 

I have this degree for over twenty years. 

I have my clinical license for seventeen. 

So.

I put myself out there. 

I looked at what I really wanted. 

Want. 

And now? 

I have a few positions lined up. 

Three jobs, essentially. 

And I'm so excited. 

And so nervous.

And also happy. 

Because this shoe that finally dropped at the previous job? 

Has kicked me in the ass, and shoved me in the right direction. 

So. 

As I mention in the title of this post? 

Changes. 

They're here. 

They're coming. 

They're the path I see before me with every shift in focus. 

The move isn't complete yet. 

But it will be. 

The new jobs haven't started yet. 

But they will. Soon.

My life hasn't fully shifted yet. 

But it will, too. 

Changes. 

Such a terrifying, overwhelming, enlightening and exciting word. 

Let's see what such changes bring. 

Join me? 

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This Is Exhausting.

Everyone, hi.

Hi, hello, all the greetings. 

I've been missing for months. 

Only I have been right here. 

Exactly here. 

Exactly where most of us have been for all the days since March. 

March 13th, to be precise. 

March 13th was the last normal-ish day. 

I went to my doctor.

I went to the grocery store. 

I picked up my daughter from school.

And then. 

Everything changed. 

For all the f*ckers out there who don't think anything has changed?

You. I have issues with you. 

For anyone who is confused as to what my life has been like all these days, weeks, months?

It's been quiet.

And different.

And yet, a new normal. 

One nobody wants to accept.

And yet, I do. 

I accept it.

Because I have concerns and I think it's important to acknowledge that.

And because I think it's important to remind ourselves that not everyone is living their normal life.

Because.

This.

Is. 

Exhausting. 

Friends. 

We're STILL in a pandemic.

We're still wearing masks. 

Many of our children are still in school at home.

Many of us grown-ups are still not returning to our offices. 

Me?

I always work from home.

It's something I've answered repeatedly since March.

Yes. 

Yes. 

I have worked from home for over seven (SEVEN!) years.

Y'all.

Guess what, though?

I could leave my house after my work day.

I did the school transport back and forth.

I lived in Lyfts.

I went on dates (don't gasp, there were so very few).

I went to Starbucks (I miss you so!).

I went to dinner with friends (I miss y'all more!).

Weekends were busy. 

We did things.

We saw people.

I lived a normal life. 

We lived a normal life. 

And now?

This?

This new normal?

This.

Is. 

Exhausting. 

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This Is Not Homeschooling.

Friends.

I see so so very many of you talking about the new normal.

You're parents. And your children are now home with you for all the days.

Your school-aged children.

Let me tell you something.

This is not homeschooling.

First of all.

Homeschooling parents make a CHOICE to homeschool.

They decide. They know that this is what is best for their child(ren).

You? You have been given no choice in this so-called decision making process.

This is not homeschooling.

Homeschooling parents also have communities.

Did you not know any homeschooling parents before today? (Okay, this week, or two.)

They do not sit in their homes and just teach their child(ren) all the things.

Sure. They have days where they are home. Working on lessons and the like.

But they do so so much more than that.

You? You have been confined to your houses with your child(ren).

You are not allowed to go to the museum. The zoo. The play place. The library.

This is not homeschooling.

You (hopefully!) have some guidance from your school, your teachers, your child(ren)'s support teams. You (hopefully!) have access to efforts they have taken for you to utilize to help you teach your kids.

Homeschooling parents create their own lesson plans.

Sure - they might use an online program, they may purchase some workbooks, but they create it all. The whole syllabus. Schedule. Everything.

The main purpose of my clarification here is to remind you - as mom or dad or grandparent - that you are not required to do it all right now. This is brand new to you. This was not something you planned or decided on or researched in any way.

YOU ARE DOING THE BEST THAT YOU CAN.

WE ARE ALL DOING THE BEST THAT WE CAN.

And it's also a reminder, the next time you hear someone mention a homeschooled child and you find yourself thinking, I wonder how they're going to get on in the world without socialization (come on, you know you've thought it, or certainly HEARD it, at least ONCE!), you also remember that their parents have considered that. And they've made sure that their child(ren) gets to experience all the things. And their so-called lack of socialization? Is an unnecessary concern.

And, sure, there may be the homeschooling parent who only works from their home and doesn't offer their child(ren) the opportunities others do. For whatever reasons. It's not our place to judge. But most? Do not. They're out there. Teaching and learning and engaging with others. Ensuring their kids have the best of everything.

And it's a lot more than what you're suddenly finding yourself doing.

Because. My friends.

This is not homeschooling.

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Can We Please Not Judge?

Y'all really have your own thoughts about things, don't you?

You know what you need for your family to survive for the next 14+ days and you've made those purchases accordingly.

And maybe you got some extra toilet paper. Good on you. As long as you didn't knock someone over the head for it, I'm cool with that.

Honestly, I don't care if you ordered six dozen mega-packs of toilet paper from Amazon if it made you feel better.

And I don't care if you piled your shopping cart with about ten bottles of wine if you're so inclined.

You're a grown-up. You do you.

And I'll do the same.

But can you not judge me for my choices?

And if you're thinking, but what, Andrea, I didn't say anything to you about what you did or didn't buy when you went to the store two times this last week. What's the problem?

No. Maybe you didn't.

But did you, when you were buying your "essentials" - did you find yourself looking at the cart of the person next to you and thinking, what the heck do they need THAT for?

Did you look at how many blue boxes of macaroni and cheese they purchased and roll your eyes?

Did you count their cartons of eggs, and the number of boxes of cake mix?

Did you think, what on earth does someone need four jars of pickles for?

Did you look through their items and wonder why they didn't have berries and apples and avocados in their stockpiling stashes?

Did you consider that they didn't need that stuff because they get two produce deliveries every week so they can support local farmers and buy rejected fruits and veggies so they don't end up in the landfill?

Did you think about how their toddler ONLY eats the mac-n-cheese from the BLUE box, no matter how hard they've tried to get them to eat something else?

Did you count the number of bags of frozen chicken nuggets in comparison to packages of fresh chicken breasts and thighs? And if you did - did you realize that this was the third store they'd been to this morning and every single one of them was out of poultry?

Please, friends.

We are in the middle of a freaking PANDEMIC.

Hello. A PANDEMIC.

Definition from Merriam-Webster.

occurring over a wide geographic area and affecting an exceptionally high proportion of the population

an outbreak of a disease that occurs over a wide geographic area and affects an exceptionally high proportion of the population : a pandemic outbreak of a disease

Can we please stop with the judging?

Can we please remind ourselves that what we're just trying to get through this as best we can? And that we've each got our own concerns in the midst of it all? 

Because the last thing we need is to feel like someone is looking at us with an 'I've got it all together' kind of look. You know the one. The one that makes you feel like crap and makes you wish you could crawl into a hole. Or the freezer section at the local supermarket. Or maybe the beer section. And I don't even drink beer. 

I'm always telling people to cut themselves some slack. 

To give themselves a bit of grace. 

To remind themselves that, hey, we're all - each one of us - human. 

Now I'll take a moment to remind each of us of something else. 

The importance of doing the same for others. 

Cut them some slack. 

Give them some grace. 

Extend a bit of heart beyond your own circle. 

If you wouldn't say it to a friend, or want a friend to say it to you? 

Don't say it about anyone you don't know. 

Please. 

Please don't judge. 

* If you're struggling, I've offered some tips on how to find a bit of calm in the midst of the current chaos.

* If you're concerned about your community and the impact that closing schools will have on those families who are managing food insecurity? I have shared information on how to Donate to Your Local Food Bank. 

Read it to find ways to help.

Because helping feels so much better than judging, my friends. 

And I know you have it in you. It's why I love and respect you so. 

Important Disclaimer: 

If you're buying all the medical supplies and things that our friends' lives depend on, but yours does not? I will judge you. DO NOT PUT THE LIVES OF OTHERS AT RISK for your stockpiling purposes. Please. Just don't do it. You don't need fifteen bottles of distilled water. But your friend who needs a CPAP machine to BREATHE while they sleep? DOES. Thank you.

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Feel All The Things.

Good day, internet friends, and happy holidays.

'Tis the season for love, laughter, baking, drinking, eating, happiness! And, of course, decorating alllll the things.

But it is also the season for pain. Grief. Loss. Reminders.

And. Of course. Tears.

Allow yourself these tears.

Whether you realize it or not, you need them.

Tears are a catharsis of sorts for the body.

I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on TV, but I know that a good cry is healing for us all.

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We Move Forward.

When?

When will it end?

How many lives need to be cut short before we see change?

How many people need to check in with their loved ones to report that they are safe?

That they were 'far from' the latest incident of domestic terror?

That's what this all is, you know?

Domestic.

Terrorism.

What do we do?

We move forward.

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Life Takes Hold

Hello, friends.

I have not written in a while.

Quite possibly over a month. Maybe longer?

Life took hold of me and didn't let go.

I'm quite active on social media.

You know how that goes.

It's my norm.

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Depleting.

Divorce is depleting.

Someone in a group I am in said that this morning, not in those exact words, but more along the lines of when someone reacted to something divorce related - how depleting that was.

Is.

Feels.

Depleting.

Damn.

That is the G-d's honest truth.

Divorce is exhausting.

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Words Of Wisdom From The Mother Who Overslept

The face of a mom who totally overslept, thanks Melatonin, and is relying on the graciousness of a friend to get my child to school. #365feministselfie Also, sneaky #catsofinstagram behind me. ^..^

A post shared by Andrea Bates (@goodgirlgonered) on Feb 22, 2017 at 4:53am PST

So, this morning I totally overslept.

And for the first time in her five years of school my daughter got a "tardy".

Tardy. What a weird sounding word. Don't you think?

And here's my wisdom coming atcha.

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Stop And Take Pause.

What happens when you can't think of anything to share on your blog?

What happens when you're stuck and want to submit to other publications but lacking ideas on what to share?

What happens when you think of all the great things every other day, but never find yourself at the keyboard in time to jot them down?

You stop. You take pause.

You may stop for way too long.

I just realized this morning I have not posted since almost two weeks ago.

Huh. How did that happen?

Why is it that I have taken such pause of late?

Honestly? I don't really know.

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Finding Fitness Fridays: Finding Your Motivation

Hellllooooo, everyone. 

How's everyone doing? 

Are you like me? Are you totally lacking in motivation? 

I'm trying to find mine, and so I figured I'd be open and honest, real and raw, as I usually am, and let you know I'm struggling a bit. 

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The Top Ten Reasons I Hate Doing Homework as a Mom

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So much.

She lays next to me. Fidgeting. Unable to settle into the call of sleep.

I lay still beside her.

Reflecting on the day.

The pressure behind my right eye is immense.

Unsure of whether or not it's an actual impending headache or a ball of tears, I pretend I don't feel it.

My patience wears thin as she finds yet another need-to-do moment before shutting her eyes.

Tonight she became a Brownie.

A huge step for my little Daisy girl who has grown so over the last three years.

Huge.

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I'm sorry. #ForMiriam

An open letter to Miriam Carey. #forMiriam

Miriam,

Oh, how I wish I knew what you were experiencing. I wish I knew who failed you.

I feel like it might have been me.

No matter how hard I advocate. How hard I push. I see women like you whose lives end too soon. And it triggers me. It brings me back to the realization that it's not enough. It's never enough.

What were you going through?

Was it actually a postpartum mood disorder? Were you severely anxious? Did you realize what you were doing? Did you know your baby was in the car with you? Did you mean to risk your life? And your child's?

Where was your mind taking you?

We know it was your mind that led you to those gates. Those barricades. Your mind had you put that car into drive and go.

How far did you travel to get to where you were going?

What were you thinking along the way?

Were you thinking at all?

So many women. So many mommas. Their lives end too soon.

They appear okay. Seem to be getting help.

From people like me. I'm a therapist. I meed to be working. I need to be out there supporting women like you. I am not all the way out there yet, but I do my share as best I can.

I volunteer for organizations to support moms in need. Like Postpartum Education and Support, Moms Supporting Moms - a local organization that lets me show I'm there and flex my supportive muscles via email and phone. I write posts about postpartum mental health, posts about women like you, and I try to clarify. Try to explain that not every woman experiencing postpartum depression and/or anxiety wants to harm their child(ren).

I support moms at every point of motherhood in communities like Mama's Comfort Camp, created by Yael Saar to remind women everywhere that they are not ever alone.

I spread the word about communities like #PPDChat, created by Lauren Hale of My Postpartum Voice.

I talk about Postpartum International. I remind people that help is out there. I encourage people to get help, for themselves, their friends and loved ones.

I write posts about all of the amazing bloggers out there who are available to support, love and remind you you're not alone. These women who have been places that were similar to where you were and come back from the brink of it.

And still, it's not enough.

This is not about me. This should not be about me.

It's about you. And those like you.

But I want to shout anyway. I want to be HEARD. By those who failed you. Those who have failed so many others. I want to say COME ON, ALREADY!!!

How many women have to suffer before we figure this out? How many women have to leave their children motherless? Leave their families without a daughter, a sister, a wife? How many?

We don't know. We can't know.

And honestly, I have no idea if any of this even applies to you. Perhaps I'm being too stereotypical and jumping on the bandwagon that says you must have had some sort of postpartum mood disorder to do what you did. Maybe the small words from your mom or your boyfriend or your former boss or whomever said them led me and many down this path we shouldn't be taking, but I'm going to stand on the path, lace up my sneakers and RUN LIKE HELL. Shouting the whole way through.

Let's help these women. These moms. They need us. They need the support and love and people to trust. When they go for psychiatric care, therapy, help - we need to be there. Clinicians and physicians, OB-gyns, pediatricians, psychiatrists, I don't care who you are - what professional label you wear. If you know that a woman has just had a baby it's your responsibility to ask if she is okay. It's your JOB, your oath, your whatever the hell you want to call it - but do NOT let these women slip through the cracks. Please. I appeal to you, those out there, and beg of you - check in with your patients. Your clients. Make sure they are okay. And if they're not? Get them the help they need. If you are not capable of doing it, find them someone who can. Please. I implore you.

Please.

Do it.

Do it for them. For yourself. For the children. The loved ones.

Do it for Miriam.

And Miriam ... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that your life had to end the way it did. There are so many if only-s. If only you hadn't turned the car around. Led the police to take chase. If only you hadn't driven there to begin with. If only.

If only you knew there was someone out there like me. Waiting to open my arms to you and hug you. So many someones who know what you were going through. And who got through to the other side.

If only.

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I'm writing.

I had the incredible experience of attending the annual Type-A Parent Conference in Atlanta this past weekend. There will be so much more I will say about that but the most important thing I need to share is how absolutely incredible the hands-on session I attended was. Inspired by Just Write, a weekly link-up hosted by Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary, I listened and learned as she and Vikki of Up Popped a Fox talked writing.

And then they stopped talking. And had US write. And here's mine. I'm linking up with Heather today because it feels right.



Every night at bedtime my daughter wants me to stay with her. Me, my husband, but usually me. We've started a chart recently. Bright green checkmarks if she falls asleep on her own. It's amazing when she does. We get a few extra minutes of our nights back. No shouting up the stairs. No tearing our (my!) hair out. But what he doesn't get is how important these moments before sleep are. To me. To her. Sometimes it's habit. I need water. I have to go potty. But sometimes it's really me that she needs.

To talk about her day. Share secrets and moments with. Release the thoughts that keep her mind awake.

Lately we've been reading. I start, she finishes. Chapters from Heidi. And then we shut the light and she starts in with them. Random math problems. I think they help her sleep.

** This is where I ended when my five minutes were up.

Amazing, isn't it? A few small moments. Minutes. All it took to recall what was and is important.

My baby. Last night I was so happy to see her after being away for a few days (granted, I was also exhausted) I fell asleep in bed with her. Snuggled up tight.

She told me I am the best mommy in the world. Her special girl. She missed me so much but is so very glad I am home. And I watched her drifting. Closing her eyes some. And then I did. And she laughed this morning as we discussed who fell asleep first.

She says it was me. It might have been. And if it was, I imagine her watching me the way I watch her. With love, awe and inspiration. That we belong to one another.

That she's mine.

Thanks, Heather and Vikki. For reminding me what this blogging thing is truly about.

And if you're looking to learn more about the incredible session I attended, check it out here: How to free-write.

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"Thank you, Grilled Cheese-us!"

If you know what that means? We're meant to be friends.

It has been a HELLACIOUS week + around here, people. Seriously.

I know you think I've neglected you, and I have. And I'm sorry.

But good LAWD. I've got the cough from hell. Seriously. It's been over a week and I'm exhausted and cranky and tired and can't.stop.coughing.

ENOUGH ALREADY.

For realz.

I even went to Urgent Care last Friday night. LAST FRIDAY. And the doctor was, well, nice and sweet. And possibly twelve. But still.

And I forgave her for not giving me an antibiotic. I trusted her. *Except when she almost gave me a cough medicine with codeine and I am allergic to hydrocodone, but I digress ...

I took my inhaler prescription - and if someone can tell me how you're supposed to use those things that'd be awesome - really - and left.

And me and my OTC cough medicine from crap-land spent night after night dying. DYING.

Coughing and waking up and coughing and waking up and crying and peeing and peeing and coughing and peeing and sweating and fever-breaking and ice cold and shivering and coughing and have I mentioned coughing yet? Whew.

I'm tired just trying to breathe as I read all of that.

So I called them at the Urgent Care yesterday, desperate, and they called in a cough med. And while last night was also hellacious, I seem to have improved some already. Which reminds me, it's after midnight and I didn't take my 3rd dose today. Hmmn. To take - or not to take ...?

Anyway, I'm beat. Fried. Achey breaky and all that jazz. (Oh, Billy Ray, I'm so sorry.) *smh*

I'm ready to be healthy again because the child started school last week and I had, oh, exactly two days (that's right, count 'em, TWO. ONE. TWO.) before I was too sick to workout and I was so not happy about that one bit.

I have religiously been using My Fitness Pal and working out was supposed to go hand in hand with that, ya know? Okay, fine, I've been working hard at eating better and drinking 900 gallons of water a day (fine, it just FEELS like it), so the workouts were supposed to go with all of that. Pooh. They didn't. Haven't. I can't imagine when I'll be able to finish the 2-1/2 minute walk to the bus stop each afternoon without breaking into a sweat (HELLO HUMIDITY. #wherethehellisfall?) and coughing fit once I stop moving.

But soon.

I hope.

Because if not?

I'm seriously going to dedicate my life to eating Grilled Chees-us-es for every meal.

Every.Single.One.

That'll be okay if it's whole wheat bread, right? And unsalted butter?

* I see you shaking your head over there. No? Well why the heck not? *

Oooh, Challah bread. I am hoping to make some tomorrow for yontif. If I finally feel well enough. I really need some sweet as we bring in this new year. A happy and a healthy will happen, but goodness I need to feel healthy first!

Back to basics for a sec. Bread. Sandwiches. Leads me to ... self-promotion. Sorta' kinda'. Is Pinterest really self-promotion if you have like none of your own posts pinned?

But anyway ... have you seen my Sandwich Heaven Pinterest Board yet? Some of those beautiful Grilled Cheese-us-es? WOULD ROCK. Dangit, lookit at what I did to myself right there. Now I'm hungry.

This is why I need to go to bed earlier. So I can hush up AND stop eating.

Nite, y'all!

source

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Have you heard of Novica? Let me introduce you.

Disclaimer: This is a sponsored and compensated post. I have been provided with a code to gift one of my readers directly from Novica. I have also been provided with a code for myself to purchase an item of my choosing. All expressed opinions are my own. I have ordered from Novica many times and am completely impressed with the products I have received. Because of this I choose to continue working with them and am thrilled to be introducing them to my readers. 

I've been fortunate to have worked with Novica several times before, and I absolutely love their products. Of course, if you know me at all, you can guess that I most especially have an eye on their jewelry.

This is my favorite piece I have purchased from them.

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Don't be shocked - it's a sentimental thing - but I really love it and it fits perfectly.

This time I'm thinking of going in a different direction with my purchase. Actually, a few weeks ago I was surfing around their site and eyeing the fabric hammocks. 

This one is absolutely beautiful.

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It's 100% cotton. And it holds up to 450 lbs. Sounds good to me. I can totally picture myself curling up with exhaustion in this thing on a cool fall night. Ahhh.

Now ... where was I?

Oh, right, Novica. One of the things I love most about them is that they actually work with the creators of their products. They do incredible things like facilitate loans by connecting artists with lenders, help artists reach a more global market and more. You can read up on their mission by checking out their website and you'll be pleasantly surprised at how important both, the customer and creator are to Novica. 

Novica also carries beautiful clothing. Cotton dresses in a variety of styles, batik dresses, beautiful ponchos, and a variety of accessories to go with them.

And for your household partying needs you can head over to Novica for things like serving platters (many more beautiful than any you've ever seen), margarita glasses (how fun!) and more.

I think that these margarita glasses are my favorite. I kind of have a glass-related obsession, and would probably buy a glass for every drink if I had the cabinet space. As it is we have flutes and wine glasses and pilsner glasses we rarely get around to using. But aren't these beautiful? Think how much your favorite Jimmy Buffet* fan would love them!

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* Please tell me you know Margaritaville ... please ...

Anyway - it's your lucky day - no matter what product you choose! I'm giving away a code for $50 compliments of Novica.com. So check out the Rafflecopter below. I decided to use them today because I was too lazy to come up with ideas that would earn you entries. I promise, though, no jumping through hoops. Just simple entries that will earn you a shopping spree. 

So what are you waiting for? Get to it! A winner will be chosen in about a week. More details on the Rafflecopter form. Now go on and enter. And good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

p.s. How beautiful is THIS rainbow hammock? I think this might be the one I end up getting ... now if only I could figure out where the heck to PUT one. Anyone have two huge pillars I can borrow?

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The Internet is interesting.

So I'm watching all the people talking about all the conferences.

And it's interesting to me.

I'll tell you why.

Last year I went to BlogHer in New York City.

As you all know, New York is my home. I had to go home. And with the conference being there I was excited about the possibilities.

Post-conference I was a little let down. Don't get me wrong, I loved some parts of it.

Like the people. The people you connect with at blogging conferences are incredible. Last year at BlogHer I found myself meeting people I'd been speaking with online for some time. I found my friends. It made me happy.

I connected with some of my favorite people in the world. Some new friends, some not-as-new, and some that felt like home.

So this year BlogHer is in Chicago. Y'all know I live in NC. Chicago isn't quite a hop and a skip from here. So I won't be going. And I'm okay with that. And then I see some of my peeps talking about it and I feel a twang (yes, a twang - it's not quite a pang, as I'm still okay with not going, but it's there, so twang it is.) of sadness. Not envy, really, more like, dang, I wish I was able to see this person and meet that person and actually spend some quality time with so-and-so after meeting at Bloggy Boot Camp in Charlotte this past May.

And here I am, tossing around links and making it seem like I'm the conference goer. I'm the one who knows what conferences are like. But seriously, people? I'm just me. I'm just a person, a blogger, who goes when I can go and is excited about going for whatever reasons make it important to me.

BlogHer is huge. It was a little too huge for me last year because I went in with the mindset of a Type-A Parent Conference. I expected to sail around and in and out of sessions and learn and meet people and damn, it was huge. So I know many people got what they expected out of it, and I know many people were underwhelmed, or overwhelmed. And the team at BlogHer busts their humps in a huge way to get this thing going. And damn, if they don't do a kick-ass job with it. But you have to remember it might not be for you.

It's okay if you're going and you're feeling afraid. Nervous. Anxious.

You wouldn't be human if you weren't.

But I see so many people apologizing for feeling a little scared. And so many people telling them it will be fine. Myself often included sometimes. And I apologize for that. Because it WILL be fine and you WILL "survive," for lack of a less dramatic word. But it might be a lot for you to handle. You might want to go for a walk alone. Or hide out in your hotel room for a few hours to decompress.

Or you might want to skip a certain part of the Expo Hall because it's freakin' huge.

And that's okay.

You don't HAVE to do it all. You don't have to want to, even.

Just go. Be you. If you were brave enough to purchase a ticket you obviously want to be there. Enjoy it. Don't stress. And don't let yourself be disappointed. I did that a little bit and was cranky with myself for it. But I also did that for a bit at Type-A last year because after my first year it was in a different place and I was not sure what the other differences were but it felt different and I was trying to find my way. (Can I say different one more time?)

And then I got home and reflected and damn, if I didn't have an amazing time and meet some incredible people. So, yeah. Go with it. Get out of your own head. It'll be fine.

Make it what you want it to be.

Be nervous. Stressed. Anxious. But let that go when you walk up to someone you know you know and say, OMG! HEY! It's YOU!! It's ME!! And HUG. Because you'll probably be shocked at how many people you hug that weekend.

As for me? I'll be in Atlantic City with my college peeps. Catching up on years of girls' weekends I've missed. And I couldn't be happier about it.

Though I will miss meeting some of you. But hey, there's always Type-A ...

* This post is not in any way affiliated officially with either BlogHer, Bloggy Boot Camp or Type-A Parent Conference. I am simply using my own experiences to reflect on my thoughts with respect to conferences in general for bloggers. 

** I wrote this post yesterday (Thurs) but did not hit publish as I had a book review scheduled. It appears that at this time of the year there are LOADS of people posting about the conference of conferences and the like. I don't want to seem bandwagon-y, I just wanted to say what I wanted to say. If you know me, you know that and are cool with it. If you don't, no worries, it's all good. 

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Parenting is hard, yo.

Parenting is hard, yo.

Sometimes you find yourself bending over backwards to entertain, to keep them busy, to bring the fun and joy into it all.

And some days they listen. And do. And say 'Mommy, I love you,' from the back of the car and you smile and feel blessed. 

And some nights they cry out for you, and they have a fever and you worry and they need you and so you stay. 

All night. Sleeping or not, by their side. 

Glasses on. Pillows missing. An instant crick in your neck.

Choppy night but you wouldn't be anywhere else. 

And then they are better. Thank goodness.

And you take them to see the fireworks because they really want to go. They've been waiting for days. Weeks, even.

And the next day you go to the movies. And the baseball game. And eat popcorn and cotton candy and custard.

All the things you probably shouldn't give in on but you do.

And the day after that you make plans. And she shows she doesn't know how to listen. And you're done. 

And it sucks. 

So very much.

Because it's a really long weekend and you have plans. You want to go out on the water, take her fishing and ride the waves. You want to do all these things and more. 

But you're spent. You're exhausted. You're tired and you don't understand why she switches from on to off and off to on and never gives you warning. Or maybe you just missed it. The warning. There has to be one, right?

Because she's six. And you say that you expect this, and yet you expect more from a six-year-old, and yet you don't, right? I mean, what should you expect?

Sigh.

And you find yourself near tears because you just don't know. 

And then you feel guilty because you wonder if this is your fault.

Because she is only six, after all. 

And so you question whether you were too quick to react. Too overloaded. Maybe it was your husband. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was the two of you combined. 

Maybe it really was her. 

And so you come home, and you wait. You issue her instructions. Directions. Hopes she can follow and you can still have your plans later today. 

Because it sucks when you have to reprimand your kid and then you lose out, too. 

You're home and you're reading or writing when you'd rather be out on the water yourselves. 

But you can't. 

And so there you are. 

Grumbling. Stressing. Thinking. Holding back tears and making sure they don't fall. 

You don't need to be crying. You're okay. You will be fine. 

You all will. The three of you.

It just takes time. 

There will be bumps and bruises and bumbles along the way. 

But you'll expect them now. And even if you don't, you'll get through them. Past them. Over them. 

Parenting's hard, yo. 

But you can do it. 

And you will. 

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What I need to remember.

So many moments passed me by over the course of this last year.

So many memories whizzing along. Speed of light. Sound.

Headaches over homework.

Battles over what shoes to wear.

Everything I need to know I learned in Kindergarten.

Please eat your breakfast.

Fun and fancy kid-friendly lunches.

A lost spoon.  An overreaction. I'm only human.

Sharing thankfuls.

Big dreams.

Feeling broken.

The unexpected importance of colors.

Mornings.

Fact or fiction?

Musical memories.

Smiles. Laughter. A year with few tears.

Except mine. Because I missed her.

Now she's home. Our summer begins.

With a 6-year-old smile to wake up with in the morning. Spend time with each day.

Mind racing, fighting bedtime each night. Thoughts, ideas, memories flowing.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

* Except camp. She WILL have camp!

* Oh, and I'd LOVE it if she'd go to bed somewhat easily. This mama isn't ready to invite Samuel L. Jackson over again.

 

* Linking up this week with Pour Your Heart Out at Things I Can't Say

AND

Memories Captured at These Little Waves and Writing, Wishing *

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