Category Archives: Random thoughts

Stream of consciousness

Season of Teenagers

You know how there are seasons of life? Well, I am in a Season. Capitalization intentional. It’s not necessarily a good season or a bad season, its more like a ‘SEASON!’ I mean, it is like everything coming at me, all at once, allllllllll the time.
I was not prepared for this season of having teenagers. If you have teenagers, or have had teenagers, I know you feel this.
When you have littles, people are always saying things like “Oh just wait until they’re walking” or “Oh, just wait until they’re all in a million activities”. But no one ever says “Oh just wait until they’re teenagers and young adults and they are really independent but your world still revolves wholly around everything they have going on at the very expense of your social life”. I always hated that “Oh just wait” business, because I was like, I don’t want to wait, I just want to be right here, right now, right where I’m at. Even when it’s hard and chaotic. And now, even after being a parent for a little more than 2 decades, it’s still hard and chaotic sometimes.
It’s a different kind of hard and chaotic. It’s not cutting up their food and tying their shoes and driving all over God’s creation to make sure everyone has everything they need for a million and one things. They can not only cut their own food, usually they cook it. They not only tie their own shoes, now they order them online and then just ask you to venmo them the cost. And at least half of mine are driving themselves to their never-ending activities. Usually at the cost of “Mom, can I use your car?” But at least the middle one calls me once in a while, even if its just to ask that question. By the end of this month, we’ll have yet another driver and still the same number of cars. I desperately need to win the lottery.
Last week at church the question was posed, “What is something you are looking forward to?” I sat there and thought through this crazy summer of everyone going in a thousand directions. Typically, my answer to that question would be whatever trip or event where all of my people will be together. But this summer looks very different than years past. All 3 of my kiddos have jobs with completely random schedules. I did a big road trip with 1 kid last month and we’re doing another short overnight next weekend. 1 kid just got back from a weekend in Florida with her bestie and another kid is flying off to Florida with his bestie in a little over a week. While he’s gone, the girl will be taking care of the dog while the other 4 of us road trip to New Mexico. The day after we get back, my kids leave for vacation with their dad. The day after they get back, the girl goes back to college.
I have officially reached the stage of ‘It’s getting harder to get everyone together.’ My kids are all over here living their best lives and I am merely hanging on for the ride.
This week I asked all of them for their work schedules so I could try to find a time that we could all have dinner before everyone splits and we aren’t back together again until Christmas. You might think I’m kidding, I’m not. It’s a very real possibility, and highly probably that all my kids will not be back in my house, together, until Christmas day. Almost 6 months from now. And this summer there has been a grand total of about 15 waking minutes that we’ve all been together. How did I get here?
It sounds like I’m complaining. And on some level, I am. But I also need to make it known that I LOVE having teenagers and young adults. I love the relationships I have with them. I love the quality time I get with them. I love the one-on-one road trips for competitions or college visits or Moms weekend. I love dinner dates and nights at the MUNY, even when they end with a canceled performance of Beauty and the Beast followed by a harried run back to the car amidst hail and lightening. I love watching them become individuals, seeing what drives each of them. I love that I can see them finding their independence and knowing that I’ve helped cultivate that. I love that they still need me a little bit-to bounce ideas off of, to take them places, to vent to, to problem solve.
But I’m not kidding when I say I’m just simply trying to hang on. I have never in my life felt like such a dichotomy. I am so rarely alone, and yet sometimes I feel lonely. I crave time to rest and recover, but then I can’t sit still. I am an athlete, and yet I am way out of shape. I did an Ironman (coming up on a decade ago) and I still feel like that was an accident. I did that 140 mile race, I trained for it as a single mom of little kids. And now that they are old enough to take care of themselves, I can barely get out the door for a quick run. I guess that’s partly just because I don’t want to miss a minute with them. Before I know it, they’ll all be gone.
I know people say that when they’re little. The days are long, but the years are short. It’s true. Every bit of it.
Last night, we (the Beau and I) had a way overdue night out with friends. These are friends that we used to see every Thursday night for trivia. Last night we realized we hadn’t seen each other since an annual fundraiser we attend each year…that was in November. So while my kids’ social lives are thriving, mine is severely lacking. And to be totally honest, I’ve been feeling it.
While we were catching up last night over grilled sandwiches from The Cheese Shack food truck at 9 Mile Garden (highly recommend by the way), Kara said to me, “You Mom hard. You work hard. You self-care hard.”
“Well, not so much on the self-care part lately,” I interrupted.
Lately I’ve been feeling the lack of that part. I’ve been momming exceptionally hard and trying to be in the moment for all of it. The few days that I’m actually working this month are jam packed with patients, and trying to keep my other side tasks caught up so I don’t drown. I’ve been working through lunches, staying late, going in on days I wasn’t actually planning to work just to lighten the load.
The self-care part though. Unless you count the multiple medical procedures I’ve had done this year. Which I don’t because while they are necessary, the stress of the planning logistics, medical bills, etc, just requires more deep breaths that I haven’t felt like there’s been any time for. I swear I need another 10 hours in a day. But I also know I’ve been beating myself up lately. Yeah, I did an Ironman in 2014. But then there was nursing school, and working full time, writing a book, Covid, an injury, and the annoying Meno 20 that came on overnight and no matter what I do, not a single pound of it will budge.
I do all the things. I get my 10-12k steps daily, I lift weights 3-4 times a week, I prioritize protein, I sleep 8 hours a night, I drink plenty of water, blah, blah, blah. I like the part about “reduce stress” that they throw into that list. Oh sure, because being an adult isn’t stressful at all. Ha.
Anyway, I saw a thing the other day about finding a picture of yourself as a little girl and taping it to the mirror where you’ll see it every day. And any time you start to say something negative about yourself, remember that you’re saying it to her too.
That one hit deep.
I may not have time for self-care in the form of weekly massages and pedicures right now. And I certainly don’t have the option of planning a month-long beach retreat. But I can start now by digging up a picture and tapping it to the mirror. And going easy on myself. Speaking gently. With love.
So, like I said, I’m in a Season. It’s a little of everything. I have so much to be grateful for. I have a lot to look forward to, even if a lot of it is looking forward to seeing my kids’ smiles as they go have adventures and come home to tell me about them. I have two legs that carry me for morning miles around the little lake I live on. I’m not in a season of Ironman at the moment, and that’s ok.
I guess by saying I’m in a season, I just mean I’m living life. Sometimes its good, sometimes its hard, sometimes grief overwhelms, sometimes joy abounds, sometimes you laugh, sometimes you cry. Sometimes you have to hold on tight, sometimes you have to let go. Sometimes its all of those at the same time. But whatever season I’m in, I’m going to focus on being fully present.
Oh, and that time we carved out this week when all the kids are available for dinner. I will be leaving work promptly at 4 on Thursday so we can grab a quick bite before the oldest has to be at work at 7. It was honestly *The*Only*Time* we could find for the rest of this entire crazy summer that we are all available. So I will take what I can get, because that’s the season I’m in.

How to be a Ninja

Hi. Remember me? Your old blogger pal RRG? It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything other than a patient chart note or a grocery list.  But, ya know, that’s life as a working mom of teenagers who are always going in a million different directions and eat everything in sight. 

I also haven’t been running a whole lot lately, but I still get out there when I can.  I’ve been dealing with a long bout of Metatarsalgia.  Between that and all kinds of other stuff, running just hasn’t made its way to the top of the priority list.  I’ve been walking a lot more.  And doing some weights, cross training and the likes.  I do what I can to fight the demons of middle-age.

I did manage to put in the training miles earlier this year to run not just one, but two, half marathons a couple weeks apart.  The first one, in Louisville, was a blast and went way better than expected.  The second one, which involved some time with extended family in Quincy, was somewhat torturous and did not go as hoped.  Regardless, I had a great time with my Jacobs side.  If there is one thing that sports teach us, its that there are good days and bad days.  Enjoy the good, learn from the bad. 

Back in November when my almost 16 year old ran the Hot Chocolate 5k with me, he decided to set a goal for himself this year: Run a 5k every month.  In January, he got out there and ran it on one of the coldest days of the year.  He has ticked off each month so far, including upping the stakes in May when he ran the 10k the day of my half marathon in Quincy.  It was hot that day…and we were given absolutely zero days of heat prior so no chance to acclimate.  But he whipped out a first place age group finish like it was nothing. 

This is the kid who I used to have to slow down for and encourage him to keep going, but now he lets me start before him and then he still kicks my butt.  Sometimes we just run on our own, sometimes we do organized races.  In April we ran the Cardinals 5k and got to finish at Busch Stadium for a cool down lap around the warning track on the field.  I mean, it wasn’t Wrigley, but it’ll do. 

June was no exception.  The other day he said, “Mom, we still have to do our 5k for the month” and the opportunities were dwindling.  Between the air quality alert days, the heat advisories and work schedules, we landed on June 30.  Today. 

Our text convo yesterday went like this:

Me: Are we running this 5k at 6am or on the treadmill?

Him: I ain’t doing it on the treadmill.

Me: Well I’m not doing it in the afternoon!

Last night we discussed our plan of attack.  Despite the fact that he has always been my early riser, he was not looking forward to being up at sunrise during summer break.  And then he said, “I guess that’s part of the challenge.”  Yes, kiddo, that it is.  Working towards our goals, even when we don’t feel like it.

And so, we rose by 6am and were out the door shortly after.  I left first and headed around the lake.  We typically cross paths when we run from home, but I went a slightly different route today than he did so I never even saw him.  But just knowing he was doing the same, kept me going. 

I’m not gonna lie, it was warm this morning, but at least it wasn’t as bad as yesterday when I walked outside at 5:30am and felt the humidity slap me silly.  Or on Wednesday when I went out for my pre-work walk and felt like I was thrown directly into a smoky bonfire.  By the time I finished that one, my lungs were burning. 

The beau said to me upon arrival home, “You aren’t supposed to be outside today”. 

“Oh, well, I can see why.”

At any rate, today it was about 75 degrees during run time and it was surprisingly less horrible than I prepared myself for it to be.  When I finished running every step of that 3.10 miles, I texted him to make sure he was good.  He was already done, of course, in about 29 minutes. I think he was feeling bad about it not being anywhere close to his best. 

Again, there are good days, and bad days.  But I’ll get back to that.

Did I mention that we got home from his World’s competition for Ninja on Monday?  Last week we went on an epic adventure to the Carolinas.  World Ninja League held the 2023 Championships in Greensboro, NC last weekend.  In the fall, Silas set a goal to qualify for World’s.  And that he did. 

I will never forget a day about 10 years ago, he was probably 6 at the time.  It was a hot summer morning and he came downstairs wearing a long sleeve black shirt that read, “How to be a Ninja…”  

I said, “Bud, are you sure you want to wear that?  It’s so hot outside.  Why don’t I go help you find something cooler.”

“Umm, no” he replied, “I’m ok.  And besides, I kind of want to be a ninja.” And so it began.

The trip to Greensboro was arranged.  And rearranged. And rearranged again due to unforeseen circumstances.  But there was no denying it was happening. 

We left on Monday afternoon and stopped in Nashville for some Hattie B’s hot chicken.  On the way through the Smoky Mountains we stopped to hike and picnicked by a waterfall. He found a fun barn Airbnb for us outside of Greenville, SC, where we toured the sights in the rain, ate some great food and laughed a lot. We planned the whole road trip around ninja gyms he wanted to stop at. How lucky am I that my 15-year-old (16 in a month) still enjoys hanging out with his mom? Then we arrived in Greensboro, NC on Thursday for the pinnacle of the trip, where he promptly ditched me for his friends and I hardly saw him.  Ha!

He was set to compete in Stage 1 on Saturday morning.  We got to the Coliseum nice and early for him to check in.  He warmed up and strategized with his friend and coach, Aidan.  I got progressively more nervous and had to remind myself to breathe. 

When Ally did cheer, I started a thing when she was warming up I would pray, “Lord, give me her nerves”.  She can keep the adrenaline, but I’ll take the nerves.  And now I have transferred that prayer for her younger brother.  And so I said my prayer, “Lord, give me his nerves”. 

The time for his course run came.  I knew with everything in me that he could full clear the course.  However, one of the obstacles that eventually took out many of the others had its way with him.  In the moment, it feels somewhat crushing.  You work so hard for something and then its done in an instant.  He went on to complete the rest of the course almost flawlessly. 

He was disappointed.  I was disappointed for him.  I let him know how proud I was and that I understood his disappointment, then I gave him some space to process as he needed to.  It was a long day after that with lots of good moments.  Watching his little buddy Ivan full clear the kids course with literally 1 second to spare so he could move on to Stage 2.  Seeing Silas coach some of the other kids. Cheering on the others that made it to Stage 2. The parents telling me how much they adore Silas and appreciate how much he does for the kids.  There were also some other tough moments when some of his teammates had similar missteps that ended their run. Like I said, good days and bad days.  Even for the Elites. 

Ninja is a really special community.  Much like running and triathlon, its an individual sport, but the camaraderie is something to behold.  The way they encourage each other, support each other, even when they are competing against each other, is a really beautiful thing. 

Much later in the evening, as Aidan’s course run was nearing, the schedule had gotten a little off.  Kids still needed coaches, coaches were preparing to run the skills course.  It got a little dicey on timing.  People shifted around to make sure all the athletes were covered.  Will, who was supposed to coach Aidan, went to skills and at the last second Silas stepped in to coach Aidan. 

Aidan’s course run was so fun to watch.  He crushed it!  And just like on the show American Ninja Warrior, he got to the end, hit the buzzer and the smoke went up.  With smoke still hanging in the air, Silas and Aidan threw their arms around each other yelling “Let’s Go” and my heart busted into a million pieces. 

Seeing my kid react with that much joy for his friend, his own disappointment completely eliminated in that moment, was beyond heartwarming.  It was heart exploding. 

Even on his not best days, this kid still constantly impresses me with his determination and perseverance, his drive to be better and his never give up attitude.  I’d like to think maybe I’ve had a part in teaching him that.  But even more than that, his ability to pick himself up when he’s down and genuinely love his people.  I could not be more proud of my ninja.

So, this morning, after our run, I showered and had coffee.  And then I went off to see Dr. Laiderman.  You might recall that he put me back together after an injury during Ironman training many years ago.  Earlier this year, I went back to see him for this foot issue, which is really a calf issue and so much more because little things lead to big things when we don’t take care of them.  We’ve been slowly working through it and hopefully there will be another marathon in my future. 

As we talked through how my pain has shifted, he said something really profound.  He was talking about how when trauma happens, if we don’t address it right away, its in the body’s nature to try and avoid pain so we compensate in other areas, which ultimately leads to a big mess.  He said it much more eloquently than that, but I’m RRG, so that’s what you get.  I sat there looking at him, like, whoa. 

“It’s the same with emotional trauma,” I said. 

“Yeah, that’s how the brain works,” he replied.

So where does that leave us?  I guess what I’m trying to say is, everyone should be more like my ninja.  I don’t remember how his shirt said to do that, but here’s what I would say: Pursue your dreams fiercely.  Process your disappointment. Set your goals high and go after them.  Learn from your falls but don’t let them keep you down. Pick yourself up again.  Cheer on your friends.  Don’t be afraid of a challenge. And no matter what, run fearlessly through the ninja course of life. 

Being A Legend

I should be in Florida right now.  I’m maybe just a tad bitter about the fact that instead, I am home in Missouri.

Four-ish years ago, if you had told me what I’d be missing out on right now, I would have said I know I’d be bummed to be missing a trip to Florida with my girlfriends for a long weekend.  But there’s way more to it than that.

I’ve missed out on races I’ve trained hard for, it’s painful.  I was trained for a marathon in March. It was canceled due to this Coronavirus mess.  But this time around, Coronavirus messed with my daughter.

Those four-ish years ago, Ally decided to try competitive cheer.  She’d tried a couple other sports, but nothing had really stuck.  And I thought for sure her desire to cheer came from a place of watching too much Dance Moms.  She always said she just liked watching the dance part of the show, not all the mom drama.  But when I showed up with Ally to our first out of town competition in Louisville, I was pretty convinced I would have a run in with Abby Lee Miller.

I felt like a fish out of water.  I had no clue how to help Ally with her hair, or her make-up.  My tight monthly budget went out the window with tuition, uniforms, comp fees, travel expenses.  Ugh.

On top of all that, I didn’t know any of the moms.  Well, except for my ex-husband’s new wife since Ally’s step-sister was also on the same team.  It was uncomfortable, to say the very least.

As the first season progressed, something became very clear.  While Ally’s team was a part of an established St. Louis gym, it was the first year they’d filled a team of the level Ally fell into.  It was, shall we say, a building year.  Her team was not great. They came in last at every single competition that season.

Ally and I drove lots of miles together that season.  We tried to meet up with Ally’s teammates and their parents occasionally but mostly it was just the two of us, doing our thing.  She was having fun learning new skills and making friends, I was trying to survive.  I wiped a lot of tears and gave a lot of speeches about how it was a learning experience. I talked about how learning to lose graciously was important, and it made you appreciate winning so much more.

The season finally came to an end in Columbus, OH and after sitting through an awards ceremony where the girls came in last, again, we had a nine-hour drive back to St. Louis.  We pulled in well after midnight and got up for work and school the next morning.  I was so glad that was over.

But, it wasn’t over.  A few weeks later were tryouts and Ally was ready to go back for more.  I was proud that she didn’t want to give up after such a demoralizing first year.  She said, “My goal next year is to improve my skills. And someday I want to compete at Summit.”  I had no clue what she was even talking about.

The next year, she started the season and immediately became attached at the hip to her soul sister.  She and Sav were inseparable from the start.  I finally got to meet Sav, and her mom DJ, at the first competition of the season in Nashville. The first showing of the season was shaky, but as the season progressed, we could tell the girls were gelling and had a chance to do well.  Ally and Sav bonded with a couple of the other girls, and I enjoyed getting to know their moms.  I was glad to discover that they didn’t stir the pot like the moms on Dance Moms, and they were actually very down to earth.

By the time Spring Break rolled around, the girls still didn’t have their bid to Summit, but they were so close.  They could taste it.  They wanted it.  An email went out to the parents proposing an extra competition to give the girls one last shot at earning their way to the big comp at the end of the season at Disney’s ESPN zone.  The girls had worked hard, they’d earned it, and the parents made it happen.  Athletes traveled with other families, some families canceled spring break trips, we signed the forms, paid the fees and went off to KC for one more shot.

It didn’t go great.  They girls thought they blew it.  But the following Monday the girls got the news, they got their bid and were invited to Summit.

We rented a house with some of the other girls and their mom’s over Mother’s Day weekend in 2018.  I had been married less than 2 weeks when Ally and I boarded a flight to Orlando at 7:50pm on a Thursday night that could have been mistaken for a Cheer Legendz charter flight.  We landed in Florida, took a shuttle to the house, threw some frozen pizzas in the oven for a 2am dinner and stayed up most of the night, just excited to be there.

The whole weekend was amazing.  The girls competed and did well on their first day, but unfortunately, they didn’t make it to finals.  We made the best of it by spending Mother’s Day sipping mimosas by the pool and then Mothers and Daughters went off to the Magic Kingdom.

We laughed, we cried, we bonded.  We slept too little and we had the time of our lives.

Year 3.  Ally continued to push herself and improve her skills.  I was so happy that she had found an athletic passion to pursue and the camaraderie of a team.

Despite the fact that our group had girls split up over 3 different teams, we began traveling to most of the competitions with our little pack.  Sometimes we got home at 4am, sometimes we drove through blizzards and ice storms, counting how many cars were off the road in the ditch.  We cheered on all the girls.  We celebrated birthdays, and other milestones, on the road. We supported each other through highs and lows, we came together in good times and bad.  But we had found our people and we had become a family.

At the end of that season, only Madalyn’s team had earned their way back to Florida.  Ally landed her back tuck right before tryouts and she was ready to bring it.

That brings us to this year.  The 2019-2020 season.

When the e-mail announcement went out for team placements, we were all on pins and needles.  Gabriella had given up competitive cheer in place of HS cheer.  But we had our fingers crossed that Madalyn, Savanna and Ally would be placed together.  We were hoping for several other girls as well. And they all came together.

A cheer went up (pun intended) through all of St. Louis when we got the word.  Cougarz.  We were ready and we knew this team was something special.  There was no doubt we were making our way back to Summit.

At the first comp of the season in Nashville, the girls proved us right.  They got their bid.  And one by one, the other Cheer Legendz teams got theirs, as well.  The season was going swimmingly.

In the middle of the season however, the girls were one by one, coming to the conclusion that it was going to be their last season cheering.  And then another announcement came.  This was the last season for Cheer Legendz too. The owners were selling the gym to ICE athletics and this was our farewell tour.   We all agreed, we were going out with a bang.

In January, we made flight reservations and rented a house.  We started talking plans and getting excited.  We invited a couple other moms and their girls to join us.  Even some of the grandmas were going to join in the fun.  A girls’ weekend with Cheer and Disney, we were over the moon.

And then, in early March, as talk of a pandemic started swirling, our plans started to crumble.  We held on to hope that Summit would stand.  Or even if it got pushed back, we might still be able to make it work.  I waited until last week to finally cancel my plane ticket; I was in complete denial.

Summit is still being held this year, in June now, but all the big gyms have pulled out.  And frankly, we still really don’t even know what next month will look like.  Our girls haven’t worked out at the gym since before Spring Break.  The dream is over.

But, is it?

Here’s the thing.  Yes, this was a totally crappy and anti-climactic way for the chapter to end.  The chapter of Ally’s cheer career, the end of Cheer Legendz, the way we were supposed to go out on such a high note.  Ok, so yes, the dream for all that is over.  But what it has led to is so many other dreams.

My little girl learned what it feels like to be part of a team.  She learned what it’s like to love a sport with her whole heart and she learned how to pursue excellence.  She learned how to lose and how to win. She learned how to pick herself up and keep on going, and how to hold her head high. Her cheer years gave us so many fun memories during her high school years that have bonded us in a way I could never have imagined.  Cheer gave us friends who are like family.

On Saturday, we were supposed to be in Florida for the girls to compete.  We didn’t get to do that.  But Anthony, one of the coaches/owners of Cheer Legendz was celebrating a birthday.  His partner Ryan organized a birthday parade, out in front of Cheer Legendz.  We made signs and decorated the car.  We met up with our little crew in Chesterfield valley and then we sat in line for Over An Hour to say Happy Birthday to Anthony.

But it was more than a birthday parade.  We waved to so many familiar faces.  We gathered in the parking lot and took socially distanced pictures.  We got to say good-bye to the season that was supposed to be.  It was what we all needed.

Kind of like the season, I don’t really know how to bring this to a close.  But I do know that I will never forget how much Ally’s cheer years have given me and my girl.  And even if you don’t know how the dream will end, always always ALWAYS pursue it with everything you’ve got.  Because That’s what it feels like to be a Legend.


Hello RRG Readers!  Did you think I had disappeared forever and was never coming back?

I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve been on here, but I have a very exciting announcement. I used my blogging sabbatical wisely and on January 1 of this year, my book, STRONGER: From Trials to Triathlete to Triumphant, went live on Amazon.

That’s right, I finally finished my book!  And this is where it all began!

On Thursday evening, I’ll be hosting a party to celebrate this milestone.  If you’re in the St. Louis area and would like to join the celebration, feel free to email me at for details.

Thank you for all of your support and encouragement along the way.  It’s exciting to be here!  Please check out my book on Amazon (click the link below), or if you’d like to purchase a signed copy, email me at the address listed above.

All the best in 2020!


Welcome 2019!

New year’s resolutions have never really been my thing. I’ve always been more in the school of thought that if you want to change something about your life, why do you need to wait for a certain day of the year? Just make the decision and do it. Even if it’s on, say, June 22.

However, I do understand that with the closing of one year and the beginning of a new one, there is a tendency to reflect a little more, to think about the things that went wrong, the things that went right, the things that just went and were endured.

As I was preparing to shut the door on 2018, which definitely had its share of high-highs and low-lows, I found myself enjoying every moment that I got to spend with all of the most special people in my life. After saying goodbye to my last living grandparent just a few days before the anniversary of my dad’s passing, it would have been hard not to think about the relationships that are so important to me.

I was fortunate enough to have a chance to say goodbye to Norma when I know she still heard and understood me. I got to recount some of my favorite memories with her and then make even more memories with my uncles, aunts and cousins. Its easier to let go when you know it brings your loved one peace, and it will bring them to a really joyous reunion.

Speaking of joyous unions, y’all know I got married in 2018, right? And we celebrated with that trip to Ireland I’ve been dreaming of for so long. So even with the hard tears, there were happy tears too. And it seems to me, that hard tears mixed with happy tears are the proof that we are really living.

In the past week, I’ve spent some quality time with our new blended family of six, enjoying old traditions and making some new ones. The kids have had their friends around and gone over to friends’ houses. We traveled to the little ‘ville in the northeastern corner of Missouri, where the beau and I met so many years ago before we found our way back to each other, to see his parents. We also got to see his sister and her kids. And at the last minute I got to reunite briefly with the friend who was like a sister to me during the very challenging tween years. I couldn’t know that she was only a mile from me and not at least stop in for a quick hug.

A couple nights ago, right after returning from NEMO (Northeast Missouri) I hooked up with my friend/colleague/roommate Katrina so we could have one last beverage at iTap, our post work retreat when we were both dealing with some of life’s most challenging hits. We couldn’t let iTap close it’s doors for good today without a little reminiscing. As we were heading our separate ways back to our respective neighborhoods, she suggested we try to do a meet up every month. Yes. I agreed. As busy as life gets, it’s reasonable to find at least an hour out of 30 days to have some friend time.

Last night, we had friends over for snacks and drinks. There were kids running around, the pug kept attacking my “frother” (friend who is like a brother-did I just make that up?) Dan, and his wife (who he also married this year) Andrea has been a kindred soul of mine since I first met her on a run (back when I still led the social run) and before we set them up.

I’ve gotten to run and have coffee with one of my besties from Chicago who has been in St. Lou visiting family over break. I even got to start the new year hitting the trail with her this morning at Al Foster, my fave. We remembered running there together 4 years ago on Christmas Eve, we even remembered some of our conversation from that day.

This afternoon, the beau and I took all 4 of our kids, and one of my “adopted” daughters over to Skyzone. We had 7 jumpers. 5 kids and 2 adults. That’s right, even after running 6 miles this morning, I kept the adrenaline going for a romp in the trampoline park. Followed by happy hour at Sonic to negate all the calories burned.

So as I have packed in the quality time here at the tail end of 2018 and extending into the front end of 2019, something occurred to me. Last night, Andrea asked “So, what are your resolutions?” I didn’t really have an answer, since I don’t really do resolutions. But while running with Lynnie today and playing at Skyzone with the kiddos, it just reinforced that I want to continue nurturing my important relationships and living life in a way that is really, truly living. And while I wouldn’t really call them “resolutions” as much as “reinforcements”, I would say these are mine:

Live fully. Laugh more. Love whole-heartedly. Worry less. Take more pictures, both with the camera and mentally. Run with friends regularly. Do anything with friends more regularly. Love the ones who treat you right, and let go of the ones who don’t. Hug as often as possible. Snuggle a lot. Don’t beat yourself up for eating the ice cream (or the pizza, or the tacos, or whatever empty calories present themselves). Seek out more adventures. Take in as many sunrises, sunsets and star-filled skies as possible. Smell the roses. Don’t sweat the small stuff, or the big stuff. Trust that it’s going to work out the way it should. Remember to breathe. Look around and enjoy life. Do the things that make you happy-write more, read more, run more. Go on more hikes with family. Be present. Take care of yourself. Smile. Make people wonder why you’re smiling. Play more games. Play more in general. And when given the choice, jump on the trampoline with your kids. (But be sure to take some ibuprofen and maybe do some Kegels once in a while)

Happy 2019, everyone! I’m wishing you all a year full of love, laughter, hugs, smiles, snuggles, sunny days, starry nights and more happy than hard tears.

Much love,
Rambling Runner Girl

Happy Nursiversary to Me

As of today, it’s been exactly one year that I’ve been at my job. There are still days I find it hard to believe I made it through nursing school and I am actually a nurse. When I look back on that process, I know that training for endurance sports is a major contributing factor to my success.
Endurance: the fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way. Synonyms: tolerance, sufferance, forbearance, patience, acceptance, stoicism.
Training to run marathons and complete long-distance triathlons gave me the mental capacity to keep going when it gets hard. Nursing school was hard. Life as a nurse is nothing to scoff at either. But here are a few things that I have learned, or at least been reminded of over the past 365 days:
*I care deeply for people. Even when it’s people who are threatening my sanity, I put my entire heart into serving them. Even if that means I have to sit on hold with a pharmacy well after the 5:00 dismissal so that someone gets a prescription they need so they don’t have to remain uncomfortable. Doesn’t mean I won’t complain about it, but I will still do it.
*The sound of a fetal heartbeat is the most beautiful sound in the world. It never gets old. Not. Ever.
*For all the nurses I fit for shoes at Fleet Feet, I daily think about how important good footwear is. But Aleve is necessary to keep on hard as well.
*I never get tired of carrying my dad’s stethoscope around my neck. I take him with me daily. Today our supply guy, Paul, asked me about it and I’m pretty sure we both had tears in our eyes.
*OB/Gyn is definitely where I am supposed to be. I love the hope of new life, the relationships I get to build over 9 months and the beautiful babies that come to visit.
*I have cried for my patients on more than one occasion, and I have prayed for them even more.
*There will always be someone who doesn’t like you. And that’s ok.
*Spontaneous triplets might be the coolest thing in the world.
*It makes me crazy when people leave a voicemail without telling me their name.
*Coffee makes the world go round.
*Scrubs have pockets for a reason.
*You can’t beat a good pen.
*Even better than the words “Thank you” are the words “I appreciate ya”.

Nursing is not for the weak or the faint of heart. It takes strength, and endurance to get through the days and the weeks. You don’t always know when you’ll get to eat, or pee, or even sit down for a moment. But take advantage of the aide stations when they come, keep putting one foot in front of the other and stick with it for the long haul. And it will be worth the effort.
Unrelated to my job, I’m pleased to report that I’ve been running a couple times a week. Even in the midwestern misery of heat and humidity, I’ve built my mileage up to 8 whole miles. Its slow and steady, but it gets the job done. No Garmin, I just know where the turn arounds are from many years of training and I couldn’t begin to tell you my pace. I don’t really care, maybe cause if I knew it would make me sad how far I’ve fallen off from where I was before. But also, I’m enjoying it more this way. So there’s that.
And last but not least, since we were talking about being in it for the long haul, I picked up a project recently that I had to set down for nursing school. It seems kind of appropriate that on the year anniversary of starting one job, I’m going back to another. No, I’m not selling shoes again, and I won’t be making an income from this one for a bit, but I started back today as a writer. I had a conference with my book coach this morning, in the chaos of my life, with a husband, four kids and a puppy in the background, and it’s time I got back to telling my story.
It’s never going to be easy to find the time to make this dream come to fruition, but it’s not going to get any easier the longer I wait. And so, the journey of Rambling Runner Girl resumes. Slow and steady, one foot in front of the other. Onward!
Maybe by my second work anniversary, you can all celebrate by buying my book. ;)

Runner’s High

Medical definition of runner’s high: a feeling of euphoria that is experienced by some individuals engaged in strenuous running and that is held to be associated with the release of endorphins by the brain.
I can tell you the exact last time I experienced this. It was approximately 3 years, 6 months, 3 weeks and 3 days ago. I had already completely a knock down drag out of a 2.4-mile swim and a grueling 112 miles on a bike in the foothills of Arizona with crazy winds. I still remember wanting to throw my cycling shoes into Tempe Town Lake and never wear them ever again. I’m fairly certain they haven’t touched my feet since then. But then, it was time to trade in my bike for my Mizunos. My time had come. The first few miles of that marathon were, interesting, to say the least. I needed some nutrition, and sodium, and my legs had to get a handle on a different form of propulsion. But after a few miles, I felt it. I remember at about mile 5, yelling to my friend Allison, who hates running, “I’m so happy to be running!”
During the marathon at the end of an Ironman, a runner’s high is not likely to last the entirety of 26 miles. It came and went. I had moments of feeling like I could keep running forever, despite the depleting efforts of the day. And because I am a mere mortal, I had moments that I just wanted to cross the finish line and end my misery. I will tell you this, there is nothing, NO. THING. At all in this world, like coming down the finisher’s chute of an Ironman, and knowing that, in spite of all the obstacles you were up against, you completed the whole dang thing. I have chills just remembering it. And by chills, I mean tears welling up in my eyes.
Flash forward to June 2018. Reality. A runner’s high seems pretty much like a thing of the past, a figment of my imagination, an unattainable dream. Since that day in Arizona, I have run two other marathons. One of them, very nearly killed me. Like, seriously, almost killed me since it sent me into acute renal failure and septic shock. In fairness, I was the dope who ignored my kidney’s pleas to stop running and continued on through the hills of Mark Twain forest anyway. But I digress.
After the marathon of death, running has been brutal, not fun at all, and I have just sort of trudged along through the miles to get them done. At the end of 2016, during my “comeback marathon”, the thing that kept me going was the fact that I was running as a St. Jude’s Hero. I was running for kids who couldn’t. I loved that race, but I didn’t particularly love the running. It was just relentlessly putting one foot in front of the other and wishing it was over.
That’s basically how I would describe almost every mile I have run since November 16, 2014. Relentlessly putting one foot in front of the other and wishing it was over. Running has become painful, both physically and mentally. Its something I do just to say I did, to attempt to stay fit, so I can eat all the food. I’ve tried taking breaks, running in my favorite places, giving up the Garmin. But the joy was gone. It’s not fun anymore. What’s wrong with me?
Nothing, nothing is wrong with me. I’m just…human. And it’s ok that something that is hard, and painful is…hard and painful. Even if its something that used to bring me so much happiness. Even if the passion isn’t there. Sometimes we have to let go of things we love.
And sometimes, on a muggy, June morning in the Midwest, on a path we’ve run countless times, when we least expect it, they come back to us.
I’m not gonna lie, I struggled to get out the door this morning. I guzzled a cup of coffee thinking the caffeine might help the headache I’ve been fighting for the better part of the week, and I took some Midol knowing that it was most likely hormonal. It was humid, I wasn’t looking forward to running, but I’m trying to just feel good in the skin I’m in, so I made myself go.
It was pretty uneventful for the first few miles, but then, with about a mile to go, I felt kind of weird. I had just passed Wildwood Towne Center and I was in the home stretch with a little over a mile to go. I was thinking that I had recently said to the beau (Yeah, he’s the husband now, but he’s always gonna my beau) that I’m considering signing up for a half in the fall, just to give myself something to focus on and work toward. I was thinking about what I might sign up for. I was thinking that I would do it like I did with training for my first marathon, Chicago 2001, no Garmin, no time goal, just finish and enjoy the journey. I was thinking of so many of the races of the past 17 years, flashes of the highlights and the lessons learned. And the next thing I knew, I felt it. It didn’t last long, but it was there.
At first, I thought I was just getting goosebumps because I was dehydrated. But I did a quick assessment (I’m a nurse, it’s second nature) and I realized I was fine. I was just having a release of endorphins in a way that made me *want* to keep running. It was The. Best. Feeling. And even though I fully expected it to leave as quickly as it came, I made a mental note to just enjoy the feeling while it was there. I ran up the hill toward the pedestrian bridge…still there. I crossed to the other side of Old Manchester and rounded the curve back to the neighborhood…still there. I headed around the mud-pit that is Lake Chesterfield, it’s drained again, this time on purpose to try to figure out how to fix it. Sometimes things have to get worse before they get better, am I right? By the time I had less than a quarter mile to go, it was gone. But there was a quote that had been in my head, for whatever reason, at the beginning of my run: Don’t be sad that it’s over, be glad that it happened.
I don’t know if my passion for running is fully restored. I don’t know if I’ll ever have another runner’s high ever again. But I had one today. And I’ll take what I can get.
In the meantime, I’m gonna keep doing what I do and trying to enjoy the moment that I’m in. As I’ve been writing this, I received a picture from Ally who is at camp this week, I’ve been listening to three boys going in and out of the house and inventing a game they’re playing, and my husband walked by and gave me a kiss a little bit ago.
Now, I’m no expert, but I’m gonna go ahead and say that maybe, just maybe, the reason I felt a little lighter on my feet today, and less like I’m trudging along up a mountain is because my life is a little lighter and less trudgey these days. It’s still not perfect, and its definitely got its challenges, but my people are here. So, I’m going to let the endorphins flow freely, I’m going to enjoy the moment that I’m in, and if and when another runner’s high comes along, I’ll take that too.
But instead of holding my breath and waiting, I’m gonna go pack a suitcase for Ireland. #bucketlist


Welcome to the Next Chapter

I’ll be honest, I didn’t run today. In fact, I haven’t run in over a week. But I can still ramble like nobody’s business. Now, I don’t know if there’s still an audience out there, but RRG is willing to talk to anyone who is willing to listen.
If you’ve been on this journey with me since the beginning 5+ years ago, or even if you joined the ride somewhere along the way, you know that this has been a sounding board for my struggles. And of those there have been many.
It’s funny, isn’t it, how when you are in the midst of a trial and you can’t see the way out, you definitely can’t see the purpose for the struggle. You might remind yourself of Kanye’s lyrics occasionally, “N-now th-that that don’t kill me, can only make me stronger…” and you might even convince yourself those words are true, but you certainly don’t know what the “stronger” is going to look like or why it’s necessary.
As I was driving home today after work, it occurred to me that tonight is the last night I will be alone in my house. My beau has been gradually moving his stuff in here, but he’s back in Shrewsbury for one more week. Tomorrow night the kids come back from their dad’s. On Wednesday, my brother, sister in law, niece and nephew, and my mom, will arrive for the weekend festivities. On Friday, my nieces fly in and the Kirksville crew will make the drive down. As of Saturday, this will be an even fuller version of “our house”.
So, what does one do on their last night of solitude? Well, I stopped at the library to drop off some books, I went into Barnes and Noble to pick up a birthday present for my almost teenager, I hit up Gold’s Gym for a workout and I went to counseling. Exciting stuff, right? And now, here I sit, with the remnants of my organic frozen pizza and the last of the bottle of wine I was working on over the weekend and I’m contemplating the events of the last 7-ish years.
As I prepare to turn the page on this chapter, I think about all that I accomplished. I learned how to be a home owner, I learned to be a single parent, I became an Ironman, I went back to school, graduated with honors and became a nurse, with a real job. But tonight when I pulled into the garage, it was obvious to me that those major life events that I’ve tackled, pale by comparison to the things that don’t really have a label.
When I was a newly single home-owning parent, there were nights I would pull into the garage and sit in the car, sometimes for an hour or more, because I couldn’t bear the thought of going into an empty house. Tonight it was clear, I’m not afraid of the empty house anymore. I haven’t been afraid in a long time, but when did that transition take place? When we’re in it, we don’t see it happening, but then one day, it’s right in front of us and we realize that we made it.
When I got home, I was ready to jump out of the car and get the oven going for my pizza, but there was a song on the radio, and because I am a weirdo, I sometimes sit in the car to listen to a song to completion. This was the chorus, “I have won, and I have lost, I got it right sometimes, but sometimes I did not. Life’s been a journey, I’ve seen joy, I’ve seen regret. Oh and you have been my god through all of it.”
All of those nights that I was afraid of going into an empty, lonely house…I was never really alone. He was always there with me. And while this chapter is closing, and I’m about to embark on a new chapter, that will hold it’s own set of challenges, and struggles, and trials, but also so much joy, not only do I know that I will never be alone, I know that I can look back on these past struggles and I can say I’m ready for it. I made it. This is what the stronger looks like. I persevered through the hard part. Through all the hard parts. I did it. And even more importantly than that, I did it well.

Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Romans 5:3-4


An Open Letter to 41, On the Eve of my 42nd Birthday

Dear 41,

With 42 standing just outside the door, waiting for you to make your exit, there are a few things I need to tell you before we part ways forever.  Before I can say good-bye, I want you to know how much our trip around the sun together has meant to me.

We have seen a lot of good days, and some bad.  We’ve shared laughter and tears.  We’ve had our ups and downs, but that was all after you came roaring in last October while I was in the middle of my third semester of nursing school.  We cried together when things were hard, but you also stayed by my side and saw me through to the end.  We made it all the way through school together.  You watched me graduate with honors and rise above my fears to be the student speaker at my graduation ceremony.

We experienced so many adventures together.  We traveled to NYC, Louisville, Columbus, Memphis, North Carolina, Kentucky Lakes, the mitten (twice), Chicago and more.  We saw my Cubbies win the World Series-something I always hoped for, but never really believed I would see.  We ran the St. Judes Marathon in December; running through the St. Judes campus hearing, “Thank you, Hero!” from the parents and the kids we raised money for, was absolutely unforgettable.

Traveling to NYC with the beau was amazing, spending a week at Kentucky Lake with the kids was full of laughs, we enjoyed a week at the beach with the Jacobs side and last but certainly not least, hiking to the top of a mountain in the Smokies where we got engaged to the love of my life!  It has been quite a year.

We started my very first nursing job, 41!  And I could not be happier.  I really love it!  Working with a father/daughter OB/Gyn team is the perfect setting for me.  I love the hope for the future that I get to witness on a daily basis.  I have found my passion, my calling, my purpose.  I was born for this, but you were the one who helped me figure that out.  On any given day, my heart bursts with happiness and breaks wide open for the patients I am coming to know.  All while wearing my dad’s stethoscope around my neck.

41, you were certainly not without frustrations, but we conquered things together and we made it.  You have set things up for 42 to be something really special.  Make no mistake about it, 41, you will always have a special place in my heart.  You helped me come to a point of truly accepting that I am a work in progress.  Not just saying those words, but owning them, believing them and embracing them.  You helped me find my peace, 41, and for that I will be forever grateful.  I know I’m going to miss you and it’s hard to let you go.  Not because I am afraid of 42, or whatever lies beyond, but because of all you have done to make me who I am, the person who I am supposed to be.  From the bottom of my heart, 41, thank you.  Thank you for everything.

All my love,


PS. Don’t tell the others, but so far, you are hands down my favorite.

First Day of 41

Last Day of 41

Redefining and Refining

So what’s next?

Its no surprise that after finishing nursing school and getting engaged in April, I’ve heard that question more than a few times this summer.

Initially, my response was, “I’m going to take boards and see where I’m at.”

Well, I took my boards (and passed, YAY!) in June, so what have I been doing since then?

I decided that I was going to take the summer off! Since I was going to have the kids for a big portion of the summer, and since we had a couple vacations planned, and since they have suffered through the last two summers with me going off to school every day, it seemed appropriate for us to have one last hurrah.  Pretty soon I will be working, and by next summer we’ll be a family of 6, so I felt I owed it to them, and to myself, to have some fun.

I took my board exam while they were on vacation with their dad in early June and that was about the end of my peace and quiet for the summer.  After that we had pool days and adventures.  We spent a few days in Kentucky at a lake house over the 4th of July where we shot off fireworks, fished, jumped in and swam off the doc, played games, ate A TON and just generally enjoyed ourselves.

A couple weeks later, we spent 10 days in Michigan with the Jacobs side.  We crammed 12 of us (my mom, brother and family, nieces and my kids) into my mom’s New Buffalo condo.  It was cozy, but we made it work.  We played Scrabble, went tubing, played on the beach and in the pool, watched sunsets, hiked up the dunes, picked blueberries, ate A TON and just generally enjoyed ourselves.  Are you sensing a theme here?  We’re Jacobs.  We like to eat.

We celebrated Silas’ 10th birthday.  We celebrated Greyson’s (my bonus kid’s) 8th birthday.  We started planning a wedding.  We took all the kids to Johnson’s Shut-ins, which they deemed the coolest place in the world, after whining the entire 1.5+ hour drive there that it wasn’t going to be worth it.  (Just a hint: It’s totally worth it!) We sent my oldest off to high school (very bittersweet!).  We watched a total solar eclipse, sadly not together, but it was absolutely stunning.  It’s been a fun, and somewhat exhausting, summer of Lindsey.

But it wasn’t all fun and games.  I spent quite a bit of time working on some projects around the house as well.  While the kids were gone in June, I spent a couple days peeling wallpaper, painting and surprised them with a makeover in their bathroom.  They loved it so much, they all stopped using my master shower and moved back into their own bathroom, that only took 5 years of living in this house.  I guess I should have done it sooner.  Unfortunately, the shift in shower usage, also revealed a leak in the pipes, resulting in a hole in my kitchen ceiling that is currently under repair.  Thanks, Roger!

The wallpaper removal has continued, with the kids’ help in the upstairs hallway, stairwell and into the front room of the house.  We recently hit a stall there, but will pick back up after these few nice days that St. Louis has for the year pass us by.  I also started a project of refinishing a couple of old chairs.  Since one of the dining room chairs busted several years back, we’re down to 5.  We need to rectify that before there are six of us sitting around the table on a regular basis.  Of course, that will also require that the dining room become a place to eat, as opposed to its current state of “craft and game room”.  Ah, well, life is all about redefining purposes, right?

Another thing that happened this summer was I spent several hours working in the yard.  This is something I always enjoyed the excuse of, “I’m in nursing school, so don’t judge my yard.”  To my dismay, it was time to let go of that excuse and dig in.  As many hours as I spent digging, you wouldn’t know it to look at it.  I’ve made a dent, but it’s a never-ending process.  Oddly, I did find it somewhat satisfying every time I filled a yard waste bag to drag to the curb for pick up on Thursdays.

You want to know what I didn’t do much of this summer?  Run.  If I got in an average of one run a week, I would be surprised.  I’ll tell you this, running in St. Louis in the summer humidity is abysmal.  Any confidence you ever had in your abilities can be wiped away as soon as you step foot out the front door on day that its 95 degrees and 95% humidity before the sun is up.  As soon as you try to make your feet move you wonder who put lead in your running shoes.  Gross.

I found that doing yoga with a background of Pandora’s Instrumental Chill station was just as productive and better for my mental health.  I’ve also found that after a long hiatus from the pool, as in the lap pool at the gym, I look forward to the soothing sound of myself blowing bubbles in the water.  Silence IS golden.  Especially when your house contains boys.  I’ve also averaged about a book a week, reading for pleasure is nice.  And it’s hard to run while reading, so I jumped on the elliptical with my book more often than not.

But between yard work and not running, here’s what I figured out.  This summer was not just about the summer of Lindsey because I got to play so much, it was more about the summer of redefining Lindsey.  I started thinking…I used to be a runner.  But does the fact that I don’t want to run because St. Louis is miserable this time of year mean that I should change the name of this blog to Rambling Swimmer Girl or Rambling Yardwork Girl?  I’m no less a runner just because I’m not as fast as I once was, or because I am only running when I feel like it and, sit down for this runner friends, WITHOUT a Garmin (Gasp!  The horror!)  I’m no less a runner when I average 5 miles a week than my friends who are posting about having a hundred-mile week…well, ok, maybe I am less a runner than them, because I literally AM running less.  A lot less.

But ya know what?  I’m ok with that.

The other day while I was sitting in a church parking lot with one of my best friends in the entire world waiting for the moon to eclipse the sun we were discussing how my relationship with running has changed.  I used to run 2 or sometimes 3 times a day.  Seriously.  It was kind of a sickness to be honest.  I had so much inner turmoil, my head and my heart were such a mess, that I felt this need to make the outside hurt just as much as the inside.  Every time I ran and pushed to the point of feeling sick.  Now I don’t think of that as particularly fun.  I told Lynn, “Running is there when I need it, but I no longer need it to be everything.”  Redefining Lindsey.

So where is the metaphor in this summer?  Because I’m RRG, and you know I’m all about metaphors.  Well, here you go.  I distinctly remember one of those days of working in the yard, I was a sweaty dirty mess in cutoff jeans that I’ve had since college and orange rain boots.  What?  I don’t want to come across some long slithery thing and have it take a stroll across my foot.  No thanks!  And besides, the one time I went out in sneakers, I ended up with poison ivy on my shin.  Grrrrrr.   Anyway, I was out there trimming hedges and gathering the clippings and pulling weeds, but it wasn’t just about making the parts you can see presentable, there were points that I was on my hands and knees digging underneath the bushes pulling out old, dead, rotted leaves that had collected in hard to reach places.  It gets nasty under there.  And I’m still bearing the battle scars of evergreens, holly plants and pricker bushes.  It got pretty ugly.  But it was necessary.  You have to clear out the crap to keep everything healthy and growing.  And it’s NEVER going to be finished, it’s always a work in progress.  There’s going to be blood, sweat and tears sometimes, but it’s going to be worth it in the end.  I guess you could pay someone to do it for you, but where is the satisfaction in that?

I am no more a gardener and no less a runner than I used to be.  I’m just RRG, doing what makes me happy.  And somedays that looks different than other days.  I will continue to redefine who I am, or maybe refine is a better word.  I’m sure I will find another race to train for in the not too distant future, but in the meantime, I’m going to leave the Garmin at home, or read my WW II novels, or whatever.

So, what’s next? The year ahead will be one with some pretty major transitions.  I’m going to start working again full time.  I’m planning a wedding.  I’m trying to finish some projects to get the house ready for 2 more.  Redefining and refining.  The leaves will fall, weeds will keep popping up, and so forth, but I’ll keep doing the best I can.

People have also been asking what exactly I want to do when I get a job.  I’ve been answering that I’m not really sure, so I’m keeping my options open.  I know I do not want to work in a nursing home, I prefer OB or Peds to geriatrics.  About a week and a half ago, I decided it was time to send out a resume with some intention, now that the summer is winding down I should start what has the potential to be a long, tedious process (like yard work?).  So, I sent a resume.  Yes, “a”. And yesterday afternoon, I was offered a job that feels completely meant to be.  Without knowing exactly what I was looking for, it is exactly what I was looking for. It doesn’t always work out that easily, but sometimes, like every 400 years or so, the sun and the moon align.  And when that happens, it’s a beautiful, beautiful thing.

I’m a nurse.  I start September 5th.  Stay tuned for more…

When the sun and moon align