Recommitting to Me

This has been one hell of a summer.

In so many good and bad ways.

We've spent more time traveling or hosting friends and family than I can remember in ages. To connect with the people we love has been glorious.

But sprinkled in the mix has also been the loss of my father-in-law which has been harder than any of us imagined.

Subsequently, my better half has been gone more than he's been home and I've been with the children alone a lot.

This weekend, he took the littles on a Dad's and Kids Camping trip and for the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I had three full days completely to myself.

I had no idea what to do first...finish up the laundry, tidy up the bedrooms, grocery shop, water the flowers, write thank you notes, catch up with friends, stare mindlessly at the wall...

In the end, I found myself lying on the couch in my underwear scooping out handfuls of homemade whipped cream while watching a flick I haven't seen in ages..."Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," with Jim Carrey (Joel) and Kate Winslet (Clementine).  The premise is that after a beautiful, passionate, and tumultuous relationship...Joelie and Clem call it quits.  The problem is that they have all of these memories of each other and their times together.  And so, they both seek out a make-shift outfit that through some interesting methods can erase one's memories of another...thereby, eliminating pain when drudging up something from the past.

The acting is fantastic.  The music is amazing.  And the concept had me laughing, crying and wondering.

At this point in my life, my world is wholly committed to my family.  There's little time, money or energy for dreaming about me or wondering about the should of, could of, would of's in life.  It's largely about who needs which school supplies, oil changes in the cars, story books at the library and maintaining sanity while the kids tear each other apart one minute and then play happily the next.

But what about the memories, the moments of life reflection, the wonderings, the cravings, the hopes?

Not long ago, I was at a dinner party and one of the women who I'm friends with on Facebook said, "What happened to your blog?  Where did your writing go?  Are you still running?  I haven't seen many morning posts?"  And then later, someone started talking about creativity and I retorted with, "I'm the least creative person I know unless you count the kids' initials in the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." To which she responded, "I think your writing is great.  I wish you'd do it more."

And I thought, how can I?  I'm just saying the same things over and over again.  What's the point?  And then she said, "I like it because it's real.  I can see me in you." And I was blown away.

This fall has me sending all three of my children to school in one form or another.  After seven years of being at home, I can hardly believe it.  I've decided that I need to write...regardless of whether it's good, it's relatable, noteworthy, inspiring, intriguing, or useful..I need it...like I need running...to smooth out the rough edges, to help me to breath, to teach me to let go and to remind me that I'm alive.

And so, feel free to ignore my ramblings.  They'll most likely just be a hodge podge of crazy talk.  But they'll be mine and that's what matters.

I can't imagine erasing any of my memories, as painful as some of them are.  They happened purposefully.  They shaped me.  And the one that I have of me writing in a villa in Tuscany and alongside a cafe in Paris haven't happened yet...but they will, one day, hopefully, with a tub of homemade whipped cream at my disposal.