3-2-1: What I miss, what I love, and what I've learned

You can take the teacher out of the classroom, but you can't take the classroom out of the teacher.  And so it goes...a 3-2-1 for my present day.

Three things I miss about Naperville (not Chicago, because I didn't actually live there).

1. My friends...this goes without saying, really.  All of my friends; the ones I saw every day and the ones I saw on occasion, but knew they were there.  I miss the laughter and the conversations.  Man, I miss the intelligent conversations...I miss seeing their cars in the Target parking lot and last minute play dates.  I miss the gossip.  And the hugs.  And the familiarity of what it means to have friends.  I miss the security that comes with truly being friends with your neighbors.  
2. The food!  Ugh!  This is so unfair!  I didn't even know what a Portillo's hot dog WAS until I moved there.  And I didn't know that giardiniera peppers make the perfect condiment on everything!  And whoa! Garrett's popcorn is an entity unto itself.  Note to self: order some giardiniera peppers from amazon...stat!
3. A school for my daughters where they are loved.  Academically, I could not be happier with their new school.  I think they have adjusted well and they continue to do well.  I have resilient, bright children (if I do say so myself) and they are proving this day in and day out.  Their teachers like them (one of the VPK teachers commented that she wanted B in her class next year...cue my heart swelling with pride).  But it's not the same.  The hugs are not as warm, the voices not as genuine, the friendships are not real.  My kids are happy to be around other kids, but their new friends pale in comparison to their old ones.  When we FaceTime with Bella's old class I am reminded of this like a punch in the gut.  The sincere happiness and joy that crosses the faces of her old classroom of friends is priceless.  I miss that for them.  

Two things I love about Florida.

1. The pool in our backyard!  Until last week I was on the fence.  I didn't know if it would be worth it...it definitely is!  Especially now that the girls are swimming so well, I know that we will spend many days/nights in there!  I'm trying to forget that we don't really have a backyard (especially compared to our backyard in IL) and focus on the amazing summer we are about to have!  There will be plenty of opportunities to enjoy grilling and warm summer evenings.  It's pretty  awesome.
2. All of the memories we are making.  Yes, some of these are Disney related, but many are not.  Bella told me the other day, "Mommy, I like it better when you don't work.  I get to see you more."  And that's what this is all about.  Making memories, even simple ones, with my family.  Snuggling in bed on a random Tuesday morning, picking blueberries, dusting sand out of the girls' sandals as they adjust to the texture, watching them splash in the waves at the beach, burying their daddy in the sand, staying up way past their bedtime to watch the fireworks at Magic Kingdom...the list goes on and on.  And it is incredible.  

One thing I've learned about myself. 

1. Sometimes isolation is liberating.  Last weekend I was told, by someone whose opinion matters to me a great deal, that I seem very comfortable in my own skin for the first time in a very long time.  This was an interesting observation considering a large part of my struggle since moving has been the unease I've felt about not working.  Couple that with the isolation of having made one friend in four months and you have a recipe for a very strong "woe is me" attitude.  And until the aforementioned conversation, I kind of thought I had that attitude.  But I was forced to see things through different lenses momentarily, and psychoanalyze (with all of my expertise) myself.  

Those of us fortunate enough to find ourselves in the exclusive club called "motherhood" put an enormous amount of pressure on ourselves.  Let me say this again, we put it on ourselves!  Even when we don't want to admit it, we have placed ourselves on a stage of epic proportions.  Pinterest is partially to blame, and social media in general.  But it is, at the core, our own insecurities and imperfections that  push us into this colosseum of competition.  It is the desire to be "good" mothers and raise "good" kids that creates in us an insatiable appetite for cute birthday parties and healthy dinners, when the reality is that my daughters want colorful cupcakes with cheap plastic ring toppers for their birthday parties and raviolis and frozen green beans for dinner (yes, still frozen).  What should drive us is our children's happiness.  Yes, they need discipline.  And yes, they need boundaries.  Anyone who knows us knows that we have both of these in our home.  But, at the end of the day, don't we just want our kids to be happy?

And this is where I've found myself.  At the end of the competition highway, surrounded by the people that matter most to me, striving, with each and every day, to make sure that we are happy.

I  know the name of one of the other moms at the girls' school.  I've attempted, unsuccessfully, to reach out to several of them.  Have I done everything I can to connect with these mothers?  No.  Have I done quite a few things?  Yes.  When the time is right, the right kids will become friends with mine and I will connect with their moms.  But until that time, I've taken a step back.  And, suddenly, with the removal of competition and "keeping up with the Joneses" I've found peace with myself as a mother and wife.

I put "I ♥ you, B" notes in my daughter's lunch box because I know they make her smile.

I make S lunches that include four different silicone cupcake holders in different colors because she likes to have a little bit of everything in her lunchbox.

We make marshmallow snowmen with toothpicks because it makes them smile.

And we play with shaving cream because they think it's hysterical.

I challenge myself to make new,  healthy meals for the sole benefit of the people who enjoy them (even if I do post them on Facebook...I'm proud of them...I've worked hard to create them, and I really think I should be on Hell's Kitchen, if I'm being honest!)

Right now I'm doing these things for no one else's benefit but my kids'.  There's no one else to keep up with.  There's no one to try to match in style or athleticism.  There are no other kids to compare my own to.  Removing an immediate circle of onlookers has given me a very unique perspective.

I tell my daughter all the time, "worry about yourself".  I guess Mommy knows what she's talking about, after all!

Make new friends...but keep the old...

Okay.  Moving is hard.  The actual moving part is not so hard.  It's the readjusting and acclimating that's hard.  Why can't I do things as easily as Bella?  (I can't believe I just said that!  I was so worried about her.)  She walked right into her new school, made 10 new friends the first day, hugs them fiercely when she leaves, and never thinks twice.  She assumes they are her new best friends.  I am the one sitting on the sidelines cringing because I see the uncomfortable look on their faces when she hugs them.  They are not Sophia Warnock.  They don't think of her as their new best friend.  But she neither recognizes this or cares.  But my heart is slightly broken for her.

I, on the other hand, am struggling to meet people.  Staying at home does not provide many opportunities to meet other people, unless you put yourself out there.  And without knowing where to put yourself, it's hard.  I've run into some walls.  Cliquey walls.  The walls that you run into in middle school and high school.  They are still there.  And, surprisingly, they still hurt.

When we moved to Chicago I found myself in the same situation.  But the welcoming attitude was overwhelming.  I remember saying, "I wish I had more friends here" and "Oh, this mom seems like we could be friends".  It's a terrifying situation to be in, but it's real.  Luckily, we seemed to be surrounded by people who continuously sought out opportunities to make us feel welcomed.  I hadn't thought about this too deeply until last week when a friend posted this blog about making Mommy friends.  When I read this I thought, "Oh my!  That is me!"  And I was slightly horrified!  I don't know how to make friends anymore!

I have found myself for so many years in a work environment where you meet people with similar interests and they become your friends.  English teachers tend to have enough in common to form some relationships.  We like to talk.  We like to read.  We like to laugh.  We generally have a similar, slightly cynical, outlook on life, and we tend to like being around other people.  Teachers, by nature, like to be inclusive.  We spend our days in the classroom looking for ways to include the student who is being excluded.  And I think we let that take over in our "real" lives, also.  This fosters a work environment where the new teacher is almost immediately included in conversation and relationship building.  I've done this for so long that I am uncomfortable doing it outside of the work environment.

In Chicago I almost immediately met Jill, who moved in right next door the week after us, with three young kids, from New Jersey.  We immediately had common ground.  We were "in the middle of nowhere" completely outside of our comfort zones.  We clung to each other for dear life until we were confident enough to venture out on our own and our circles of friendship widened.  Now, when I think of our move to Chicago, I don't think I could have done it without her.  My girls are missing them.  We are missing them.  There's something very powerful and inexplicable about having people you trust and feel safe with living right next door.

But then there's the preschool mom thing.  I immediately made friends with the teachers at the girls' school in Chicago.  Everyone was so welcoming.  Over the last few weeks I've wondered why it's so different here.  And I think, through a few conversations with my husband and one of my dearest friends in Chicago, I've got it.

To quote my friend, "You know this has nothing to do with you, right?"  And I knew this.  But I needed to hear it.  The rejection, being snubbed, not fitting in...it hurts.  But the reality is as true now as an adult as it is in middle school.  It really has very little to do with me.  It's not the clothes I wear, the way my kids behave, or the neighborhood we live in.  It is the unwillingness of people to step outside of their comfort zones.  And I completely understand.  It is hard to put yourself in a situation of vulnerability.  And reaching out to the "new girl/family" puts people in the position to feel rejected.  Who would willingly put themselves in that situation?  I get it.  I really do.  I have to be honest in saying, I'm not sure I would be the same person, willing to reach out, if I hadn't been thrust into an uncomfortable zone three and a half years ago.  I might look at the new mom at preschool drop off, size up her doubts and unsure body language while she waves goodbye to her daughter, and not say a word.  I might have been that mom.  But because I didn't have a choice three and a half years ago, I know better how to reach out.  I'm not great at it.  But I'm willing to put myself in that position, because the pay off can be so incredibly rewarding.

Without reaching out to people in Chicago I would have never learned how to sew.  Or I would have never known what real city living was like.  I wouldn't have had random coffee dates in the summer.  And I wouldn't have laughed until my sides hurt.  I wouldn't have had a neighbor who knocked on my door on a random weeknight with a bottle of wine.  I wouldn't have had friends who kidnapped me for one last dinner date.  And I wouldn't have cried so hard when I left.  But I also would have spent three years not fitting in.  Not fitting in sucks, at any age.  But you have to be willing to make yourself vulnerable in order to fit in.

You have to be willing to throw the risk to the wind in order to reap the reward.

The identity crisis of a newly appointed Stay at Home Mom!

So.  Here I am again.  A stay at home mom.  I said I'd never do this again.  And, yet, I find myself in the exact same position that I was in just over three years ago.

And now there are two of them!  I'm outnumbered.

I hear women all over the country groaning..."You're so fortunate...I wish I could stay at home with my kids...I think that would be so wonderful..."  I hear you, and I understand you.  But hear me out on this.    I know that this is the dream of so many women, and probably quite a few men.  And I rarely hear women say what I'm about to say.  But it must be said.  Because I cannot possibly be alone on this.  Please tell me I'm not alone on this.

I love my children, but my world does not revolve around them.  Because the world will not revolve around them.  The four of us living in this home are all working and important parts of the same machine.  I have a very hard time adjusting to a life that does seem to revolve around my children, because right now, other than my husband, I have nothing in my life BUT them.  I can choose to look at this in a few different ways.  Some more optimistic than others.  But in the here and now of this moment,

I am having an identity crisis!  

I have spent so many years forming an identity.  I relate to my career, my friends, my newfound sewing hobby.  But all of a sudden I no longer have these things.  I do not wake up in the morning to be greeted by a classroom full of the leaders of tomorrow.  I am half a country away from the people that I spent time with every day; laughed, cried, joked with.  Built an identity with.  Texting is great.  Phone calls are great.  And, really, let's be honest, without facebook I might die.  But it's not the same.  Knowing that the distance is there makes it ten times greater than it is.  At least right now.  I unpacked my sewing machine and set it up on my desk, but I can't even begin to think about doing anything with it...there are boxes to unpack and about a million things to do that relate to the new home, selling the old home, or helping my girls get comfortable and acclimated; finding a school, a pediatrician, play groups, parks, libraries...the list goes on.

Somewhere between balancing budgets, grocery shopping, cooking, making lunches, cleaning, unpacking, playing Barbies, dressing dolls, practicing letters, shapes, numbers, etc., and enforcing bedtime (which I am purposely ignoring right now...the footsteps overhead are too loud, too excited, too eager to possibly go back to bed right now...I'm letting them play babies with each other, and I'm not going to feel badly about it) I've lost myself.

I am Jason's wife.  And Bella and Sophia's mom.

And while those roles are the most important roles in my life, they are not the only pieces of the puzzle that comprise the whole person.

(The monsters angels rule breakers girls are still awake...an hour and a half after bedtime.  I'm losing my mind.)

It is a struggle for me to reconcile the fact that I no longer have an identity that does not hinge on someone else.  I admire woman who embrace the role of stay at home mom in all it's glory.  Maybe it's due to upbringing or personality.  Or maybe it's due to a deep seeded desire to stand on my own two feet, even when I don't have to.  Stubbornness?  I hate that word!

I think that as a society we've adopted the understanding that being a stay at home mom is work.  It is not sitting around in your pajamas all day, eating bon bons and watching daytime television.  There is a newfound respect for women who choose to stay at home in today's culture of gender equality and feminism.  And there is an equal amount of respect for the women who work full time and still manage to run a household that has some semblance of normalcy.  But what about those of us stuck somewhere in the middle?  Trying to stay connected to their prechildren roots and independence while juggling every household responsibility known to man?  And not really feeling successful in either case.

I'm asking for a bit of compassion for those of us who find ourselves embracing the challenge of staying at home with our kids when our hearts might have a slight longing for our careers.  I am asking that you bite your tongue if your first reaction to hearing a woman is now staying home is to say something along the lines of, "I always wished I could have done that."  It truly is a knife of judgement.  It is a statement that implies that because I might not want to be with my kids 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, that I am a mother of subpar standards.  This is inaccurate.

I am a mother who wants to teach her daughters that we wear many different hats.  All of these hats are of value and importance.  Mother.  Teacher.  Wife.  Friend.  Learner.  Traveler.  Reader.  But at the end of the day the most important hat I can wear, and model for my children,  is one of genuine happiness and contentment.  One that shows my daughters that it is possible to find fulfillment in many different ways, simultaneously.  And when that fulfillment falters, it's okay to try something else for a while, even if that means *gasp* going back to work on your own terms.

Here's to the women just trying to maintain their relationships and raise good human beings while maintaining their own autonomy...and sometimes coming up short, but never losing sight of the ultimate goal.

Everyone should have a mom like mine...

There are many times that I ask myself, "How did my mom do it?"  I mean, really?  How on Earth did she manage to raise a child by herself, and at sixteen?

It is no surprise that my mom is young.  We are often confused for sisters.  She loves it.  I used to hate it.  Now I just chuckle at her reaction.  It never gets old.  Today I told her she'd never get the Carter's Grandparent's discount.  They'd never believe her.  Her response?  "I'll show them my phone case!"  I laughed...they'd just suspect they were her children.  Honestly.  No matter.  She loves the attention.  And has a way of making everyone around her at ease, comfortable, and laughing...at extreme volumes!

I was fortunate enough to spend the weekend with my mom.  My husband flew her in to relieve me of the parental responsibilities that have been mounting due to his unrelenting travel schedule.  (Although there is now a light at the end of the tunnel!!!!!)  I was grateful before she arrived, but that gratitude pales in comparison to what I feel now, as she's somewhere flying over Tennessee (I'm guessing).  And while I've enjoyed the respite of responsibilities, I enjoyed her company even more.  A long time ago I decided not to be sad when she left, but appreciative of the opportunities to visit with her.  She sometimes guilts me into crying: "You don't even love me...see, you're not even crying!"  Which is so far from the truth it's comical.  But I cannot get wrapped up in the sadness of not having my mom here. It's not worth it.  

My mom has an uncanny ability of swooping in and cleaning my house.  In the time it takes me to fold a load of laundry, she's folded three, unloaded and loaded the dishwasher, eliminated the clutter from the countertops, bleached the countertops, and completed a craft project with my children.  My husband came home the other night, looked at her, and asked, "How did you do it?"  It was comical, but honest. We cannot seem to find the time or energy to make something like that happen.  

But what she does with the house pales in comparison to what she does with my children.  She has a bond with my children that bridges time and geography.  She managed to get my uptight daughter to tie on a belly dancing skirt and "shake it"!  She brought an entire suitcase full of craft supplies.  She bought dinosaurs to make sure that Sophia knew that she was thinking of her.  She just watched the squirrels out the back window.  She took them on a nature scavenger hunt.  She just had fun.

I often ask myself the very same question that Jason asked in awe.  "How does she do it?"  And I think I finally figured it out.  She never asks.  She just does it.  While the control freak in me would initially say this is the worst idea ever, the exhausted mother in me relishes in this.  She doesn't ask what she can do to help, she just makes it happen.  There are papers everywhere on the counter?  She finds a basket to move them into.  There is an mostly empty drawer in the kitchen and a wooden spoon/spatula holder taking up valuable counter space?  She moves them, and rearranges things.  Dishes in the dishwasher?  She puts them away, without asking where they go.  Poop in a diaper?  She changes it!  (bonus points here!!!)  Laundry and cups might not make it to their exact location, but it doesn't matter.  The burden is removed.  I may spend days (or sometimes weeks) trying to get used to her new layout in the kitchen, but I don't care.  Can't find that coupon that I had for Gymboree?  She knows where it is...just make a phone call.  It's like a reminder of her visit every time I cannot find a travel mug lid.  And I love it.  Because I truly appreciate every small thing she does while she's here.  

If I can be half the mom to my daughters that my mom has been to me, I will have been successful.  I want to raise independent and opinionated daughters (even though I know it will be hard and I'll go gray and I will doubt this decision for several years between the ages of 12 and 22) and I want them to know how much I love them and treasure their head-strong personalities.  I want my daughters to know that when times get too challenging they can pick up the phone, cry for a few minutes then hang up laughing.  I want to impact the lives of my own children more than anyone else's.  I want to love them so fiercely that I disagree with them (respectfully) and point it out. I want to pack an entire suitcase full of my daughters' favorite foods to help them feel connected with "home" every time they open the pantry or refrigerator for weeks to come.   I want to make a scene at the mall when they are 31 because we are so thrilled to just be in each other's company.  I want to make my daughters' lives easier and remind them constantly that they are surrounded by unconditional love and support.  If I can do half of these things half as well as my mom does I will have been successful.  

I'm still learning from her every day; patience, acceptance, kindness, selflessness, and commitment.  She is the woman that I aspire to be.

I'm grateful for my visit with her, but the time between the girls' bedtime and my bedtime just isn't the same without my mom here!

Heading to the park!

Not exactly sure what to say about this...but a lot of laughter resulted!

:0)

A "Grammie and Me" craft

Star gazing

No better after school snack than ice cream with Grammie!

Seriously...?!

9/11 Reflection

As I was driving in to work today I was struck with a realization:

My students were not even born when the world changed.

They have no recollection of the fear and uncertainty that resulted.

Or the hope that empowered our nation.

They do no know what it's like to be glued to the television, hungry for any answer, shred of knowledge, or piece of information that might shed some light on an unimaginable tragedy.

They don't know what it's like to wait for a loved one at the gate in the airport.

They don't know a world without the terms jihad, al Qaeda, or Osama bin Laden.

And I was saddened.  They were born into a world that I never imagined.  But this devastation is their reality.  And then I asked myself, are they better off because of their ignorance?

I look around at my students, a canvas of different hues of brown; some darker than others, some lighter.  And it occurred to me that they do not see their differences.  The racial profiling that existed immediately after 9/11 gave way to a deeper need; our need as humans to connect and understand each other.  We strove to educate ourselves about the differences between extremist beliefs and traditional Muslim beliefs.  We took the time to learn differences between Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan.  We turned on the news and tuned into the world.  We vowed to teach our children love, acceptance, and understanding and to surround them with those who are different than our own families.  And instead of pointing out our differences in their most basic form, we taught our children how to ask questions that matter, learning from each other.

And the results stare me in the face each day.  There are still divides to cross; gender, socio-economic, educational, the list goes on, but the divide based on race is not as evident in my classroom of 11 year olds.  It is exceptionally smaller than the divide that stared me in the face six years ago.  The strides toward equality are in the hands of this younger generation.  We've set the tone.  We've shown them what it can look like.  We've started the ball rolling, and we've already started passing ownership to these young people with so much promise ahead of them.  We can learn a lot from the faces that look to us for guidance.

And I am filled with hope that some good can continue to come from something so tragic.

Back to school...back to school...to prove to dad that I'm not a fool...

Nothing like the looming first day of school to kick start my blogging!  Riiiiiiiight.  Maybe I have the need to feel that I've been accomplishing SOMETHING!  I feel that this summer has been highly unproductive.  There are worse things, I suppose.  But I still wish I had done more.

All things considered, I've been working on classroom management this summer.  And the following pictures are some of my intended implementations for this school year.  Some of these ideas are Pinterest hybrids, some are courtesy of a fabulous colleague of mine.  I'm still getting used to those pesky 6th graders.  I'm finding that they are, in reality, much younger than I imagined.  This isn't a bad thing...in ways it's kind of refreshing that they are still "babies" in some ways and not affected by the societal push to grow up too quickly.  But they are a far cry from my high school students, and I'm still learning how to navigate inside my own classroom.  But I'm doing it.  And I'm learning a lot about myself as a person and a teacher.  It's refreshing.

So, here you have it.  I glimpse into my classroom for the upcoming year!  I'm very excited.  (Keep in mind this decorating extravaganza took place with my children hanging out with me, except for a wonderful respite given by the above-mentioned teacher's daughters, who took my girls to the playground for a while!)


One of the things that drives me crazy is the unnecessary movement around the room!  I bought cheap canvas bags at Joann's ($1 each, but on summer clearance for 70% off), cut them in half around the ends, and sewed them up in half.  This made two bags out of one.  So for 15 cents each I created a method to offer pencils, pens, erasers, and tissues (the tissues drive me crazy!) to my students!  I was so incredibly excited at this.  They are also tied around the partnership desks, which will keep them from moving around too much!

I sometimes find that students have a difficult time monitoring their volume levels...shocking, I know.  So I created a visual cue to assist with this.  This is a less frills version of one I found on Pinterest.  (I especially like the "ninja mode"!  :0)  The dry erase board to the right was lying around my house, so I used the my Cricuit to cut out the letters I needed, and PRESTO! a homework/materials board.  I'm also focusing on using numbers, so you'll see a few reminders of putting their number on their paper, too!

It's hard to see under the homework board, but there are popsicle sticks there with all of the student numbers on them.  And there's an empty box next to it that will be labeled "I have a question".  I find that the first five minutes of class are crucial, but students often have a multitude of questions.  This is going to be their way to alert me to their question, but still get started.  No more chasing me around the classroom, standing at my desk, or wasting all of the "bellringer" time!  I can take attendance quietly and move around the room to each student with a question!

Probably my biggest time saver!  I HATE passing back papers.  Okay, I don't hate the act itself, but I never remember to do it.  Then I end up with a stack 6 inches tall and it takes an entire period to pass back!  With this (and the numbers) I can pass back student work to the file boxes (thanks for the cereal boxes, friends!) before class even starts.  They can pick them up at their convenience!

Watching "Tangled"!  They were fabulous!

Another work in progress!  Missing homework documentation!  Long story...students keep track of it themselves and I e-mail home on Fridays.  Missing homework = a lunch detention.  Failing to fill out the log when you, in fact, don't have your homework also earns you a lunch detention!  Not doing your homework is not an option.  Bottom line.

I used fabric the bulletin board at the top of the chalk board this year.  It seems to be a much better option than chart paper!  I paired student facing each other because I feel that it eliminates the need to touch each other (which they can't seem to stop doing) but still provides students with the important opportunity to discuss literature.  It also gives each student their own personal space.  Desks are numbered, too...students will sit in alphabetical order.

I will list the students here for the first few weeks of school. This will show them where to sit on the first day, but will also help me remember their numbers AND their names.  A huge thank you to the Teachers Pay Teachers free download for these numbers!  Click here!

I'm optimistic about the upcoming year.  I'm looking forward to meeting my new students and helping them mature into learners.  But I think I'm most excited about getting another year under my belt as a middle school teacher.  I'm looking at the things that didn't work so well last year as a chance to improve.  I'm not defeated.  I'm learning.  And I'm absolutely okay with that!

Finding my friends

Two days ago we came back from vacation in Florida.  The girls and I were there for ten days.  Jason joined us for the last seven days.  It was fun.  It was exciting.  It was anything but relaxing!

It was a vacation that I needed...even though I didn't realize it.

Since we've moved I've found myself on many occasions feeling down about my "social life".  It's not that I haven't made friends here, because I have.  I've met many wonderful people who have become our family.  They are kind and thoughtful and love our children.  They have listened to me vent and made me laugh.

But there's an element that's missing that cannot be fabricated...I often miss my friends that knew me before I had children.  They have watched me mature into a wife and mother.  But they also know the person I am without the "make up" of responsibility that comes with motherhood.

Since we've moved here my best friend has gotten married.  I missed her wedding because I was VERY pregnant.  She's also had a son.  Our children are not getting to "grow up together".

My sister had a baby.  Our children know each other in pictures and skype chats (that don't happen often enough!)

My other sister moved into a dorm room and started college.

My mom and dad have embraced life as "empty nesters"!

Many of my friends from my old school have retired or left.  And those who are still there talk about people I don't know.  I miss their laughter and genuine compassion.  I miss the connection.

But during this trip I was hit with the realization that these people can still be in my life.  There's no need to feel "woe is me".  Just because we are not right down the street from each other is no reason to feel that we are not or cannot be a part of each other's lives.

In ten days I was able to spend time with some of the most wonderful people I've ever met.  I spent time with one of my oldest childhood friends; laughed with her and her husband, watched our children play together, swimming and having dinner.  I snuggled my best friend's baby; watched him flirt with my daughters and laughed and joked and caught up.  I had a "girls' night" with one of my favorite pseudo-girls and many other women who have loved me unconditionally throughout the years.  I celebrated July birthdays with the one person, outside of my family, with whom I share the most childhood memories.  I had a coffee date with a friend that needed me as much as I needed her; laughing, crying, gossiping, and just being there together.  Another friend made the 45 minute trek through a storm to spend a few short hours catching up.  I spent numerous hours watching my daughters play with their cousins, on both sides.

With all of these incredible people, it seemed that no time had passed at all.  This is the tell-tale sign of true friendship.  We pick up right where we left off, whether it had been two weeks, two months, or two years.  I cherish this connection.  And shame on me for letting it escape.  Although friendship is a two way street, I have spent too much time wallowing in the fact that these friends are "gone".  They aren't gone.  They are a phone call, a text, or a facebook message away.  All I have to do it make a move.  It doesn't have to be the "right" time and I don't have to have an endless amount of time to talk to try to make a connection.  And it's okay if I have to cut the call short because one of my children is hanging from my leg, screaming, or coloring on the floor!  I simply have to let my friends know that I'm thinking about them, which happens quite often.

The next time I'm feeling down, I'm going to count my blessings and pick up the phone.  The same remarkable friends I had in Florida, I still have in Illinois.  Note to self...