this is 38. grocery store sushi and cake, 8pm, alone. and for a minute, i let it feel every bit that sad and blue. because honestly, sometimes things feel sad and blue. and one thing i am learning is that i can't deny that sad and blue. i gotta sit with it, feel it, cry a tear or three in my mediocre cake, and just be. this is 38. i am not 100% sure what i expected, but i had high hopes of a lovely birthday evening with my fellas, and instead i picked up the three crankiest angriest bullyingest boys in the universe when i went to the daycare. they were mean to each other and didn't want anything to do with anything i had to say. and instead of enjoying hanging out, we argued and fought and they went to bed unhappy and i sat down for my un-exciting birthday dinner, alone. but another thing i am learning is that routine is my friend. so i started my evening routine, finding my rhythm. a few minutes of sweeping and cleaning. a few minutes of prep for tomorrow, lunch
annapolis rock 1988 thirty years ago, my family moved from denton, tx, to a tiny rural town in the mountains of maryland. i remember being sad as we sold our things (we were packing everything into two old cars to drive north) and actually crying over the sale of our washing machine. transition does strange things to kids' emotions. yet i remember arriving, excited, into this strange green mountainous place, and i remember even more anticipation as we found a home ("the old taylor place") and got ready for school to start at smithsburg elementary. third grade -- the same grade john starts this school year. i remember meeting my first friend on a dusty dirt road - the "alley" that ran behind the high school tennis courts and athletic fields from our home just at the town's outskirts to her home just outside downtown. (if you've never known a small town downtown, that's probably hard to envision). it was an amazing place to be a child. 199