I’m walking out of the gym, laughing about what my coach said about my deadlift. I step out into the sun and reach into my gym bag to pull out my phone. I flip up the screen, turn off the do not disturb button, and instantly my phone is bombarded with texts, all from my kids and my husband. The first one that comes through is:

“If I don’t make it I love you and I appreciated everything you did for me.”

It’s my high school senior. The one who just signed a commitment to UC Denver and put a deposit down on her first apartment. There’s an active shooter at her high school.

Read more…

You know what makes me anxious about my anxiety? The way it just happens to me. Like, I’m walking along in the garden of life, picking daisies and enjoying the warm sunshine on my back, when all of the sudden, I become aware of something lurking behind a bush. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, but can never quite put my finger on it. I run through the questions in my mind: did I leave the gate open? Did I invite it in, somehow? Did I miss the warning signs that it was going to camp out in my body? Nope, nope, nope. It just happens, out of the blue, and that makes me anxious as hell. Anxious-er.
Read more…

Photo by Daniela Rey on Unsplash

It used to be easy. Band-aids and kisses fixed skinned knees, a cuddle on the couch with your favorite book would cure a grumpy mood, a little extra time helping with homework would bring that math grade up to one we both felt better about. Brownies, movie nights, family time, commiserating and hating all the girls who hated you…easy fixes to problems we thought hard at the time.

But now, you are you. You have grown up ideas and grown up ways, but still with only the years of a fledgling. It’s no longer enough to kiss your wounds – now you’re learning on the hard road of experience, and I’m only there to encourage you, help pick up the pieces. I can offer that band-aid, but it seems insignificant and small compared to the hole I see in your heart. Read more…