One hello away.

I always thought I’d be the type of parent that could kiss my kids goodbye without crying. It was important to me that I maintain my identity as a person not just form a new identity as a parent. Key to that idea was travel. I spent the majority of my life contained in the same state. I made myself

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It’s the most horrific time of the year

Dear Girls, October really is the scariest time of the year for me. It’s not the ghouls and goblins that cause me concern. It’s not masked monsters, hooded hoodlums, or even the abundance of sugary treats that really terrifies me. I don’t waste my time worrying about poisoned candy, hidden needles, or lurking weirdos. Really, it’s the princesses that scare

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In it Together.

It has been unbearable in my house the last few months. July brought Evan’s sixth birthday which meant a sleepover, presents, a week long sugar high and a very whiny little sister. In August we switched roles and celebrated Lulu’s birthday. This time it was Evan that fell apart at every seam when it wasn’t her being celebrated or spoiled.

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Girtle.

I’m excited for my first backpacking trip. I don’t feel very nervous. I tell myself it’s just walking. I have a failed track record at running. My attempt at skiing was unsuccessful. But walking? That’s something I have proven I can do for 29 years now. I’m aware that there is a 30 pound pack that must be carried while

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I’m functional and I know it.

I love Mother Nature but she really needs a makeover. During the last few years I’ve poured more and more energy into trying to spend time outdoors. I think traveling to Africa and seeing such immense beauty made me realize how different the world can look when we’re not separated from it by windows and wheels. Although always an athlete I had

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Complete.

Evan and Lulu, Two years ago I set off on a mission to complete graduate school. I was 28 at the time, I had been out of college for close to 4 years, and I was fortunate enough to receive a scholarship that I could not pass on. The timing was far from ideal. You two were ages 31/2 and

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Born to Ride.

photo from: http://nytshirtstore.spreadshirt.com/born-to-ride-A4615157 Several months ago after reading Christopher McDougall’s bestselling book, Born to Run, I decided I hadn’t given running a fair shot. I read the book and McDougall made me a believer. Not only was I born to run, but I was born to run with almost no cushioning between my foot and the brutal terrain.  I begged running for forgiveness and cloaked

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Perspective, one cupful at a time.

One of my favorite things about Story Story Night (and there are many) is the way it conjures up memories I’ve forgotten were ever alive. Somewhere deep within the dusty aisles of my recollection are some raw moments that I shoved as far back as possible. There they rest stifled by darkness, forgetfulness and often times blatant embarrassment. Only when I hear other

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