Excerpts from my Journal | 05

March 12, 2015

These pieces are anywhere from 1 month to 2 years old, but upon re-discovering them + finding strength in them, I knew that I wanted to share them.

Sunday. It was gloriously beautiful out. The kind of day where everyone is suddenly outside. your neighbors are cleaning their cars, trimming their hedges and stepping out for a long walk. The air was buzzing with excitement. Children were running the streets, filling them with laughter. The sun shining on our faces.

It was glorious.

I wore a dress, the first one of the season. Pink and black striped, a gift from my mother-in-law this past christmas. The dress, and me in it, were a perfect indication of how I was feeling. Carefree. In love. Relaxed.

Sunday. I will never forget you.


I haven’t cooked anything lately that I’m terribly proud of.

There was a cabbage roll casserole (my aunt’s recipe) that I made this past week

but beyond that, I’ve been sticking with the basics, read: easy.


Today I thought back to when I first moved to Las Vegas

before marriage, before the baby,

when my favorite thing to do while Dom worked all day was try new recipes:

chicken piccata, apple turnovers, lemon cake with an orange glaze, jambalaya.

I’m so boring now.

I come home from work, from picking DJ up from daycare,

and put together whatever I can with an anxious toddler nipping at my ankles.

And I’m tired, I’m always tired when I get home;

I just want to lay down and close my eyes for a few moments,

shake the work day from my body

maybe have a small glass of wine.


I’m great at starting things. I mean really great. I’m overflowing with inspiration, excitement and resolve. i dive in head first. Let the projects swallow me whole.

And oh, do i ride the wave for a while. I’m happy, and why wouldn’t i be when I’m creating? I’m in my element when I’m creating, no matter in what form. writing. crafting. knitting. scrapbooking. painting. it’s all the same. they all make me feel as if i can breathe better.

But. (yes, there is always a but, isn’t there always?) somewhere near the halfway point the wind dies and my sails drop. the excitement wanes. hanging on to my resolve is like trying to hold sand in the palm of my hands.

This is when I push the project aside and sometimes even begin a new project that is all shiny, new and exciting.

Sometimes i back up and pick up an old project, but (too) often, they sit, unfinished.

My mom tells me that I get that from her.

All of these unfinished projects, these unfinished thoughts… they could fill a stadium.


it was after dinner,
our bellies full of pasta
that i sat at my computer
engrossed in someone else’s life and words
(like i’m doing often these days)
and it occured to me:
i’m missing out
on sitting on the couch next to my husband
while i sip my coffee
and we watch our son
run circles around us.

off i go.

Dom’s aunt was over recently and in between giggling over whatever dj was doing at the moment she turned to me and said: “it’s sixteen years ago today that my mother passed away.”

It was so out of the blue that i didn’t know couldn’t think what to say in response. somehow I managed: “i can’t even imagine.” and i can’t.

It made me wonder if, living so far away from all of my family, it would make it easier or more difficult if something were to happen to my parents. would the physical distance equate distance from the tragedy, or would it make it that much worse?

It’s all twisted and odd to be thinking about such things, i understand. but when someone tells you about how they lost their mother when she was thirty, and you’ve just turned thirty yourself, a little piece inside of you thinks “uh oh.”

It made me want to kiss my parents, which of course i can’t because they’re thousands of miles away. such is life, i suppose. but do me a favor: give your parents the kisses that i can’t give mine. and never take them for granted.



Smile more. Wear whatever you want to wear. Leave your hair curly more often. Wear comfortable shoes. Stop comparing yourself to others. Text less, call more. Put your phone down. Better yet, leave it upstairs. Get outside more. Ask for help when you need it. Take it when it’s offered. Wear more red. Stop buying clothes. Assert your worth. Don’t settle. Know when to say no. Be okay with saying no. Stand up for yourself. Give yourself a break. Give yourself the benefit of the doubt. Wear more red lipstick. Tweeze your eyebrows more often. Tell the truth. Be open. Have more sex. Don’t stop writing about your life. Let go of the past, look forward to the future. Be more patient. Enjoy the present. Be thankful for another year…


Each time I drive away from my son, having dropped him at his grandparents, I have what can only be described as a moment of mania. I am so momentarily stunned by the myriad of options I have in regards to how to spend my toddler-free hours, that I am almost unable to move or think anything beyond how incredibly lucky I am to have in-laws who have not only the time and energy, but the desire to spend so much time with their grandson. I know not every mother can say the same.

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