Last week was heavy. You showed up anyway — 3,157 of you on Friday alone — and I am still not over it. Thank you feels insufficient but it’s what I have so: thank you. From the bottom of everything. This blog started as a place to put things down and it has become something I genuinely did not expect. I just keep showing up and apparently so do you and I find that miraculous every single week.
This week though? We’re lightening it up. We earned it.
Sally is currently parkouring through this house at full speed as a giant fluff ball with absolutely zero regard for anything in her path and I am writing this in her wake like a woman who has accepted her circumstances. This is fine. Everything is fine.
Evelyn woke up this morning hangry and choosing violence with every female in this house — sisters included, because why limit the chaos — which is impressive range for 7am honestly. Nick is making her French toast which should satiate the tiny angry hungry monster within, and then he is off on a solo step-dad and daughter adventure for the weekend with Emily. We’re making a quick urgent care pit stop first for a possible ear infection — because nothing says bon voyage like a surprise co-pay — but on the bright side it means they get on the road earlier. Both are excited. I am counting down to bedtime and shark-coochie and margaritas with one of my older girls tonight and I will not be taking questions.
We also got Evelyn’s Pre-K email this week. Documentation goes in this afternoon. We are not talking about it. You know the rules.
Finn spent the better part of this morning trying to get behind the couch for the ONE tennis ball he wanted when he already had two fresh ones sitting right next to him. I watched this for longer than I care to admit. I understand him completely and I find that concerning. There is something deeply human about reaching for the unreachable, the damaged, the familiar — instead of the fresh, new thing sitting right beside you waiting to be picked up. Finn, buddy. I see you. I am you. We’re working on it.
The gym has been everything this week. Hello follicular phase, I missed you and your glorious energy. Nick was offered a hybrid schedule — three days home, two in the office — and I will say that having another human in the house who isn’t Evelyn is its own kind of comfort. Even when we aren’t speaking. It’s like asking someone to come help but not actually needing the help — you just needed the body in the room. The emotional support human. He doesn’t even have to do anything. He just has to exist nearby and somehow that’s enough.
Evelyn discovered this week that she can make people laugh by squeezing her face and shaking with her eyes wide open — full Cornholio energy — and once she saw it worked she has not stopped. We have run the full gamut of colors and feelings this week but we are all surviving and that is a plus.
I moved furniture around this week — which you know by now is basically my love language — and the whole time Florence was playing in my head. You Can Have it All. Moving the furniture about, trying to control what I can, making space for what comes next. Nick and I are carving out a proper workspace for both of us and something about the act of physically rearranging the space felt intentional in the best way.
Speaking of Florence — she is playing in Atlantic City this weekend. Last minute venue change because of the NHL playoffs. Floor tickets. Cheap hotel nearby. Ticketmaster aggressively reminding me there are LOTS of tickets left. Every single person in my life — my friends, my therapist, Nick — has been unanimously telling me to go. Solo adventure. YOLO. The whole panel voted yes.
And I am not going.
Because somewhere between watching Finn wedge himself behind the couch and the ice cream stand closing at exactly the right moment last night, I realized something. Going this weekend would be me doing exactly what Finn does — reaching behind the couch for the familiar feeling instead of letting the next experience be its own fresh thing. Last week cracked me open in ways I’m still processing. I don’t need to chase a feeling I should have let be what it was.
And then this morning, standing in line at the coffee shop post workout, You’ve Got the Love came on. Florence. In the coffee shop. After I had already made my peace with not going.
The universe is not subtle.
But here’s the thing — Evelyn’s bedtime is 7:15p. The show starts at 7:30p. If that’s not a sign I don’t know what is. The ice cream stand closed. The sitter didn’t materialize. And Florence’s opening notes will be playing at exactly the moment my daughter is going down for the night.
Some things are just not meant to be this time. And somehow that’s okay.
The next time will be better. It always is when you wait for the right moment. That time will include Evelyn. VIP. A meet and greet. The whole thing. That is not a consolation prize. That is the better version of the story.
My grandfather read last week’s post, saw the traffic numbers, and the business advisor in him immediately asked how I’m going to monetize this. There is a plan. But honestly? I enjoy writing. I enjoy showing up. I enjoy that this doesn’t feel like work. Would it be nice to make money doing something I love? Absolutely. Do I want it to become about selling something to people? No. I want it to stay exactly what it is — a place where I show up, tell the truth, and hopefully make someone feel a little less alone in it.
For now I’ll be here with my little miss, listening to her sing her own rendition of Buckle, getting my hands dirty repotting plants for the sunroom. I’m not exactly Mother Nature but getting that space ready for the warmer season makes my heart genuinely happy. It gives us somewhere to breathe that feels outside without being outside. Something feels really good about being calm in my space and accepting that I don’t have to go anywhere or do anything if I don’t want to.
That’s enough. That’s actually everything.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a small Cornholio who needs to be separated from the females of this household before someone loses their mind.
See you next week. 🖤
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